Tragic Romances Novels & Stories

I am Ayna Radolf, the only White Wolf in Moonshadow Pack. Everyone says I grew up cherished by Carlson Moonclaw, the Alpha. When I was three, my father died in battle. Carlson held me in a pool of blood and swore to protect me for life. When I was five, I was bullied in the pack because of my unusual fur color. He announced to the entire pack that anyone who touched me was his enemy. For 15 years, I have lived under his protection, offering him my heart and my life without reservation. At 18, Carlson falls under the vampires' death curse. I willingly sacrifice half of my lifespan and beg a witch to use a forbidden spell to transfer the curse onto me. With that, I take on his certain death. On that same day, as I watch his unconscious form and tightly furrowed brows, I cannot help but kiss the corner of his lips. He wakes up. Unexpectedly, there isn't any tenderness or any trace of emotion—only overwhelming rage and disgust. He grips my chin with horror in his eyes, as if he is looking at a filthy maggot. "Ayna, I am your brother! How dare you have such disgusting thoughts?" From that day on, Carlson has avoided me like the plague. This goes on until Selena Fang, his so-called fated mate, returns. She cries and tells him that she is abused and abandoned by her former mate. Now, she is blind and covered in injuries. The healer declares that only my White Wolf's eyes are a perfect match for her. So my Alpha, the brother I loved for 15 years, comes to me. Carlson stands in front of me and says solemnly, "Ayna, I know this is unfair to you. But if Selena doesn't have eyes, she will live in darkness for the rest of her life. As long as you give her your eyes, I will do anything you ask—except give you my love." I snap back to reality and dig my fingers hard into my palm. The sharp pain clears my mind instantly. I am not dreaming. I am reborn and back to the day Carlson forces me to give up my eyes. In my previous life, I refused to the end. During the struggle, Serena "accidentally" fell off a cliff, and her body was never found. Carlson blamed me for everything. On my birthday, he gouged out my eyes and threw me into the dungeon where rogue wolves were imprisoned. There, I was assaulted endlessly. In the end, I died in the cold, damp darkness like a piece of discarded trash. The despair and pain from before my death still linger in my bones. I look at the man in front of me. The love that once filled my chest completely fizzles out into nothingness. I will give him these eyes as repayment for the 15 years he has protected and raised me. From now on, we will go our own ways, and we owe each other nothing.

For eight years, I was Vincent Capelli's wife, his right hand, and the only person who ever saw the man beneath the Don's cold mask. Then he got drunk at a negotiation, and slept with his secretary. He called me first, voice shaking with guilt. "Bella, I made a mistake. I paid her off. She'll never come back." I believed him. Six months later, he was ambushed in Miami. His secretary drove through a hail of bullets to save him. And she was three months pregnant. When she gave birth to twin boys, the whole Capelli family celebrated. Framed for stealing the family heirloom, I asked for a divorce. Vincent, desperate to keep me, dared me to drink a bottle of 150-proof spirit. He thought I'd never do it. I reached for the bottle. He stopped me, and gave me all the freedom I wanted. "Come back when you're done running," he said. I left and never looked back. Until the night three killers cornered me in an alley.

The nights in Vicente were a coexistence of order and gunfire. Tonight was the wedding, ten years overdue, between Anthony Oliver, the don of the Oliver mafia family, and Mabel Samson, the woman who had stood beside him through bloodshed, betrayals, and underworld wars. A top-tier luxury hotel had been cleared by the family's soldati. Below them glittered a sea of city lights; above them bloomed fireworks commissioned for the future Donna alone. The man known for his ruthlessness knelt on one knee with a rare diamond ring, his eyes filled with rare tenderness. "Mabel," he said, "you walked through hell at my side. Let me give you peace for the rest of your life." It seemed that all the sacrifices and patience had finally led somewhere. However, just as Mabel's fingers were about to touch the ring, a piercing scream came from above. "Don't! Anthony! Save me!" That single cry drew all of Anthony's attention away. The girl was not unfamiliar to Mabel. Two years earlier, Anthony's twin brother had been tortured to death by a rival mafia family while covering his retreat. His body was never recovered. And Cheryl Reyes was the fiancée he had protected with his life. Mabel watched as the man she loved abandoned everything without hesitation and ran toward another woman. She stepped forward and tried to stop him. "Don't go. The wedding isn't over." However, when their eyes met, the Don accused her coldly of being heartless and selfish. And in that moment, Mabel felt tired. Perhaps it was time, just once, to choose herself over the Family.

My wife, Chelsea Sloane, has always been an avid user of computers when it comes to work. But one day, she suddenly falls in love with the idea of using pen and paper. In fact, she loves one particular black pen to the point that she refuses to let anyone touch it. Unable to endure her twisted obsession over that pen, I decide to bring up divorce before her on our wedding anniversary. Enraged, Chelsea points at me and yells, "Are you seriously getting a divorce over a pen?" I reply coolly, "Yup. It's precisely that."

"How can you say that about me, Nathan? I never had a kid!" Aaron Fuller protests. My wife, Jenny Green, stands protectively in front of him. "That's enough! You can't slander Aaron just because you're jealous of him. Just you wait, Nathan. I haven't settled the score with you for calling Aaron this afternoon and insulting him!"

To save Hugh, I took the hit—literally. The kidnappers beat me so bad I ended up with a brain hemorrhage. My mind? Stuck at thirteen. Hugh, all guilt and promises, said, "Wenna, I'll protect you forever." And he did. He watched over me. When the house caught fire, he threw himself over me, took the burns, didn't flinch. Then came his oh-so-perfect foster sister. "Mia's not into... slow people. Maybe you should live next door," he said. And my son? The one I nearly died bringing into the world? "Stupid woman! You embarrass me and Dad. You're nothing like Aunt Mia—she's smart and pretty. If it weren't for you, she could've been my mom. You should just die!" To play hero for Mia, my son shoved me into the street. A truck did the rest. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day Hugh proposed. This time? I wasn't here for his pity. And I sure as hell wasn't marrying him.

When my older brother, Ivan Goldsmith, gets drugged, I'm forced to strip down and use my body as an antidote for him. After I get pregnant, Mom and Dad tell us that we're not blood-related siblings at all. They then ask him to marry me. Ivan nods in agreement. But on the same day, he gets into a car accident after he goes racing. I don't mind him having crippled legs. In fact, I insist on becoming his bride. I thought Ivan would be touched upon hearing my declaration and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. On our wedding night, our villa goes ablaze. After waking up choking on the thick smoke, the first thing that pops into my mind is to save Ivan from the inferno. Unexpectedly, I see him smashing a vase right into my head. Before I pass out, I hear his icy voice. "You, Mom, and Dad have ruined my love life! I've given all of our assets to Vicky just to make amends to her! Since all of you have ruined my life, then you might as well die!"

All because he believed I pushed Elena down the stairs out of jealousy. Six months ago, a rival family drugged Alexander. Elena saved him and got pregnant. Her family disowned her for it. "Ivy, why can't you just let her be?" Alexander choked me, disappointment and rage in his eyes. "She saved my life! I promised to send her away. Why be so vicious to an unborn child? If anything happens to them, I'll bury you with them." I didn't argue. I just planned an explosion. But when I vanished, the high-and-mighty Don went mad.

To the public, Maggie Sinise and I are a golden married couple who have lived peacefully with each other for over four decades. But when Maggie is on her deathbed, she grips my hand tightly while pleading to me, "Aaron, if there ever is a next life, please… please let me and Scotty be together…" I feel as though I've gotten struck by lightning. The shock lasts for a long time. But since this is Maggie's death wish, I nod in agreement. "Okay." Upon hearing the answer she's been yearning for, Maggie closes her eyes in satisfaction. What I don't expect is that both of us have actually returned to the timeframe that's set 40 years ago. Just as I'm trying to wrap my mind around the question as to why Maggie has gotten reborn as well, I hear her stating firmly, "I will never marry Aaron! In this lifetime, Scotty is the only man I will ever marry!" I'm not mad at all. I'm just curious about one thing, though. How will Maggie ever rebuild Sinise Group and make it great again without my help this time?

I pleaded with my husband Cedric Fleetham over and over, and finally, he agreed to take our daughter camping in the mountains for her birthday. When I found her late the next night, she was already gone. She lay at the foot of the mountain, her tiny hand still clutching a drawing of our family. As I knelt beside her, my heart shattered. Meanwhile, Cedric was busy updating his social media. His post read, [You and our daughter are my treasures,] and it was accompanied by a photo, where he stood beside his childhood sweetheart and held hands with another little girl, watching the sunset. And there, in the corner of the picture, was a tiny hand—my daughter’s hand. The cruelest truth of all was that my daughter took that photo.