Tragic Stories

The night before our wedding, my Alpha, Charlie, was attacked by rogue wolves on his way to pick up my wedding dress. He survived, but the doctor diagnosed him with severe PTSD and no memory of me. Any mention of our wedding made him collapse. Around the same time, I found out I was pregnant. "Perhaps the child’s arrival might awaken the part of him that truly loves you," the doctor said. I clung to that hope，until I overheard them at the pack training grounds. "Faking PTSD to dodge the wedding? Damn, Charlie, that’s next-level." One of his brothers laughed. "You really pulled it off, man. Playing the tragic Alpha just to shake off that boring little fiancée? Genius." "Shut up!" Charlie snapped, but there was no real anger in his tone. "I love Eve. I’m only lying to her this once. Let me have my fun at The Velvet Bite a little longer, and then I’ll marry her." "Especially her cousin, Lisa," another voice jeered. "Damn, Charlie—a brothel and the fiancée’s family? That’s low, even for you." Charlie chuckled. "You don’t get it. Those women… I can’t live without that feeling. It’s addictive." My hands shook as I tore the ultrasound report into pieces. Without a word, I turned and walked away. That night, at the pack hospital, I made an appointment for an abortion.

On my birthday, my husband of five years accompanied his childhood sweetheart to celebrate her dog's birthday. Avery Simpson published a loving post: [The happiest baby in the world. Mom and Dad will be with you. I hope you're always happy.] Seeing the words "Mom and Dad", I commented a question mark with confusion. The next moment, I found myself blocked. Charles Logan called me and lashed out at me. "Why do you always have to mess things up at the worse possible time? You're worse than a dog. How despicable!" Shortly after, Avery changed her profile picture to one of her and Charles, hands intertwined. When I saw the obvious provocation, I didn't get angry like before. That's because I had already made up my mind to get a divorce.

"Jamie, I've decided. I'm ready to join you at Hillridge as your exclusive screenwriter. I'll be there by the end of this month!" Melanie huddled in a quiet corner on the set as she made the call, a pregnancy test report clutched in her hand. She tried to shake off the chill from the freezing weather, but her hands and feet still felt painfully cold. Jamie's voice at the end of the line was a deep and pleasant baritone. "Your talent has long deserved a bigger stage. For eight years, you've turned me down nearly a hundred times for Ken's sake. Are you ready to leave him this time?" "Yes. I'm leaving him for good!" She clenched the pregnancy test report, her lips a bitter smile.

When my boyfriend, Sebastian Passini, comes to me in tears, claiming his famiglia has been crippled and backed into a corner, I put everything my famiglia has at stake to pave the way for him. I withstand immense pressure from my famiglia, divert four million dollars, deploy our most elite soldati, and even fall out with my Madre, all to protect him. Yet, on the eve of his "counterattack," I stumble upon his true colors in my famiglia's underground chamber. Angelina Aureli chuckles beside him. "To swallow the Valerini famiglia whole, you put on a fine performance. Are you really going to sit back and watch Isabella hand over her famiglia's foundation to you?" Sebastian sneers, "Why else would I call her a fool? Her trust—and the Valerinis' resources—are nothing but stepping stones for me to rise to the top. Once I have everything in my hands, she and that old hag are dead!" I fish out my phone and revoke the final tranche of resources I had reserved for Sebastian. I should have known from the very beginning. He and I have never been on the same path. He wants plunder and destruction, and I'll make him pay for his greed in blood.

All along, I've been following a social media account that's dedicated to a couple sharing about their romance. It doesn't have a lot of followers, but the posts are all very heartwarming. The owner of the account records all the little details about his relationship with his girlfriend. They get into arguments over a plate of pasta before breaking into laughter and calling each other an overgrown child. They climb up the hill to hold each other under the sky full of stars, wishing they could make time pause at that very moment. Even though the owner of the account never reveals his face, I am always moved by the words he writes. The day before my wedding, the owner uploads a new post. "This marks the end of our ten-year relationship. From now on, she'll be his wife, and I'll only be his friend. There won't be any more updates to this account. I wish nothing but the best for my best friend and the woman he loves the most." The picture uploaded with this caption is one of my fiancee and me, taken from behind.

On the night of my 30th birthday, I waited until the early hours of the morning, but my husband, Theodore Hawk never showed up. Instead, I came across an Instagram post from his childhood sweetheart, Emily Gallagher. [What romantic is not the starry night, it is having you by my side.] In the picture, she was wearing a delicate, sky-blue camisole that revealed just enough to charm and seduce. A man stood close behind her, his hand firmly gripping her waist. The scene was set in the seaside villa that Theodore had gifted her, their figures intimately entwined under the soft glow of the night. Someone had commented beneath the post: [I can’t stand you two being this lovey-dovey all the time! Just get married already!] Emily had responded with a shy-face emoji. I had just liked the post when Theodore, who I had failed to reach all night, blew up my phone with calls. "Are you out of your mind, Camilla? Emi and I grew up together! If we wanted to be together, we would’ve done so long ago! Why are you being so petty?" Looking at how Theodore gently held her in his arms, comforting her, I realized something. Letting go of someone you’ve loved for seven years... can take only a moment.

When my husband, Drake Connor, posted a photo of me on social media, this random woman mistook me for his mistress. She confronted me in the street, a baby in her arms and a crowd of relatives and friends in tow, ready to teach me a lesson. "You shameless tramp! How dare you seduce my husband! "I’ll beat you to death, you disgusting woman!" The crowd beat me, smashed my car, and ripped my clothes. I left that encounter bruised and battered, suffering a concussion and a fractured arm. In the end, I called the police and demanded justice. I had a divorce agreement drawn up and threw it in Drake's face. "If it weren’t for me, you’d be begging in the streets! And now you dare to hide a woman and child from me? "Get out! Don’t expect a penny from me!"

At the Luna Ceremony, my mate—Alpha Ares Grant—appears at the altar with his lover in his arms. He disdainfully throws the Snow Wolf hide, which has been enshrined on the altar, onto the muddy ground. It's something my mother left for me before she died, and it's also a sacred relic passed down through generations of the Moonriver pack. Legend says that if one's mate personally drapes this wolf hide over their shoulders, they will live in harmony and be granted a blessed future. For three years, this is the moment I had been waiting for. The next moment, he turns and places the Luna's Crown on Arthene Smith's head. "I swear on the Moon Goddess that Estella is impure, disloyal, and a fraud. I refuse to accept such a filthy she-wolf as my mate. From now on, my Luna is the pure Arthene, and nothing else," he says. I stare at the scene before me in disbelief and sorrow. "Ares, I'm your fated mate, your one and only Luna—" A heavy slap lands fiercely on my face. Ares strikes me down from the altar. The moment I tumble down the steps, I hear his cold, bone-chilling voice say, "You think a whore like you is worthy of being the Luna?"

On Valentine's Day, I paid in full for a sports car and gave it to my wife as a gift. But when my wife arrived at the private dining restaurant, she brought her parents—and her childhood sweetheart—along with her. The moment my mother-in-law saw it, she slammed her hand on the table, furious. "Tyler, do you have so much money that it's burning a hole in your pocket? Is all this really necessary just for a meal? "Megan pinches every penny at home, and here you are throwing money around outside—just to show off?" Embarrassed, I tried to explain that this was simply a token of my love for Megan. My father-in-law, however, kept a stern face. "No matter how expensive the car is, it's still going to get stuck in traffic during rush hour! It's not even as useful as the electric scooter Brandon gave her. If you ask me, you didn't put any real thought into this. "Oh, right. I heard the salesperson who sold you the car was introduced by Brandon. How exactly are you planning to repay that favor? No matter how busy you are with work, you can't just push everything onto Brandon to handle for you." I could hear the hidden meaning behind his words. So that was what this was really about. They were still holding a grudge because a week ago, when my father-in-law had twisted his back, I hadn't gone to the hospital to visit him. But at the time, I had been busy cleaning up the mess Brandon Hayes had caused for the company. I'd even kept him out of prison. Yet, instead of gratitude, they were turning the blame on me. After a long silence, my wife finally looked at me. "Tyler, transfer ten percent of the company's shares to Brandon as repayment." "And if I don't?" My father-in-law barked angrily, "Then I'll have Megan divorce you!" I laughed. Then I calmly pulled a divorce agreement from my pocket and placed it on the table. "Go ahead," I said. "Sign it."

I give up being with my family and follow my boyfriend, Leon Burton, to a research institute in the harsh land of Aetheris, just to take care of him. One day, he discovers an asteroid. According to the law in our country, the person who discovers an asteroid holds the right to name it. Without even stopping to think, he says, "I'll name it Phoebe." Everyone is stunned. Naming an asteroid is a significant event, but Leon makes his decision too hastily. The person in charge asked again, "Are you sure you want to name it that?" Leon nods without hesitation. Standing in a corner where no one can see me, I can't stop crying. Only I knew that "Phoebe" is the name of his first love, Phoebe Jones. Wiping away my tears, I call my mother. "Mom, I've decided to marry Nathan. I'm leaving Aetheris."