Tragic Story Title Ideas

Asher Blackwood, Alpha heir to the Frostmoon Pack, had two mate candidates. One was me. The other was Serena Walsh. We were both orphaned girls adopted by the former Alpha. In my previous life, Serena died tragically in a landslide when Asher officially became Alpha. I became his Luna. I spent my whole life helping Asher to develop Frostmoon Pack into one of the top five packs in the southern territories. But when Asher successfully won the Alpha King election, he publicly announced that the dead Serena was his only Luna. He even submitted a mate bond dissolution agreement to the Alpha Council and banished me from the territory. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Asher chose his mate. But when I quit the competition and walked away, Asher and the whole pack were on their knees begging me to come back.

Eight months into my pregnancy, my husband finally makes time from his police duties to go to a prenatal checkup with me for the first time. The moment we step into the hospital, his satellite-encrypted phone buzzes urgently. The caller ID flashes briefly, and just like that, the man who's always calm and collected panics. "Honey, it's a red alert. Another international fugitive just crossed the border. I… I'm sorry…" He's clearly anxious, yet his tone is firm, leaving no room for argument. After apologizing, he rushes off. As I watch his SUV speed out of sight, my fist clenches tightly, crumpling the prenatal checkup sheet. I flag down a cab, slide into the car, and swiftly instruct the driver, "Follow that car. Don't lose it." A Red Notice for a fugitive? What a joke. My father, who works at the National Security Agency, barely catches wind of a notice like that. Yet, somehow, a mere police chief who only assists with cases is suddenly tasked with catching a high-priority criminal. Fine, then. I can't wait to meet the superior who's given him such an urgent assignment.

Before my wedding, I was three months pregnant. My fiancé, Felix, told me we should hide the pregnancy to protect my "reputation". Then, the very next day, I saw him announce that he was the father of his "savior" Isabella's child. It was only then that I discovered Isabella was his first love. After I found out, Felix tearfully begged me to give him time, promising a huge wedding for us right after Isabella's baby was born. But I had already planned to leave with my baby. I just never expected that Felix's mother would be the one to ruin everything. I watched, helpless, as they treated my child like a bastard and forced me to have an abortion. I left, my heart turned to ash. Felix cut ties with his family over it, kneeling and begging me to come back. He promised me everything—wealth, status, company shares. But I no longer cared. I already had everything I truly wanted.

I'm eight months pregnant when I suddenly faint on the train. My husband panics and cries for help as he kneels beside me. An interning doctor hurries to me. She doesn't bother checking my condition before saying, "The patient needs to undergo a C-section! We have to get the baby out now, or it might die of suffocation!" Then, she slices me open with a fruit knife—she doesn't take any precautionary measures before doing so. She takes my child out. I'm in so much pain that I don't even have the strength to scream. My blood flows everywhere. Yet, a photo of her holding my baby while standing in a pool of blood goes viral. People call her the prettiest doctor alive. My husband and his family are eternally grateful to her. They don't go after her for causing my death; they even make her my child's godmother! Meanwhile, I'm given a simple cremation. No one cares about me. After my death, all my assets go to my husband and his family. Only then do I hear my husband and the doctor talking to each other, sounding smug. "This plan killed two birds with one stone. We got rid of that woman and made ourselves out to be heroes!" That's when I learn the interning doctor is my husband's junior from high school. They got together when he accompanied me to my prenatal checkups! She failed her internship, so my husband came up with this idea—he wanted to use my death to boost her reputation and help her! Even my child eventually died under their "care". When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day we get on the train.

During a round of truth or dare, my boss, Victoria Hale, leaned in and kissed my husband, Ethan Graves. As just another junior employee, I didn’t even have the chance to call her out in front of everyone. Instead, I slipped away to the restroom and asked Ethan for a divorce. He brushed it off as if I were only sulking. "Don’t take it so seriously. She’s just had too much to drink. In the corporate world, you have to entertain, play along for the sake of the project." However, in the very next round, when Victoria was dared to kiss someone else, Ethan flipped the table in front of everyone. "Touch her, and see what happens."

The night before returning to the Cantrell residence, I had a dream where I was the despised antagonist in a book. In the story, my father had adopted a girl who bore an uncanny resemblance to my late mother. On the day he came to pick me up, he got into a devastating car accident. After that, my second brother, Shawn Cantrell, lashed out, calling me a curse, while my eldest brother, Seth Cantrell, treated me with cold indifference. In the end, I was abandoned by everyone, meeting a tragic and lonely end.

I was about to get married, but my boyfriend of nine years had no idea. Why? All because his recently divorced ex-girlfriend waltzed back into town, and he threw himself into her life without hesitation. The knight in shining armor was back, ready to save the day. The moment they saw each other, it was like a scene from a bad romance novel. Their gazes lingered, sparks flying, the kind that screamed, “Oh, we’re soulmates reunited.” To welcome her back, he had 9,999 Juliet roses flown in to decorate her room. Why? All because it was a promise he had made to her long ago. How sweet. Except for one small problem: I’m severely allergic to pollen. When I woke up in the hospital after an emergency rescue, I didn’t cry, yell, or demand answers. No, I pulled out my phone and texted my parents, "Please help me arrange a marriage. I’m done."

On the day of our engagement, just because Madison Calder wants to eat the ravioli my fiance Nicholas Olsen made, he decides to leave without hesitation. I can't help but try to stop him, but he slaps me across the face. "It's just an engagement party—we can have another one. What if Maddy starves?" Even my brother Brandon Lewis scolds me for being unreasonable. "You're older than Maddy. Can't you be more understanding?" I say nothing more and choose to let go and leave. They think I'm just throwing a tantrum and ignore me. They even clear their schedules just to take Madison on a vacation. It isn't until half a month later that they think to contact me, only to discover I have already joined a classified government weapons research program that will last ten years. Moreover, I have decided never to come home again. They completely panic.

My mother, Mariana Heimann, has terminal cancer. She wants me to get married before she dies. It takes 57 days of me pleading with my boyfriend, Hayden Weatherford, before he finally agrees to marry me. On the day we agreed to register our marriage, he's a no-show even after the city hall staff have clocked off from work. At the same time, Hayden's childhood friend, Scarlett Needham, shows off a photo of her and Hayden holding up their marriage certificate. It's captioned, "Time sure flies. In another week, we'll have been married for two months." It dawns on me that Hayden and Scarlett were married on the day I first begged him to marry me. I receive a message from Hayden on my phone. He apologizes, "Scarlett's family members were forcing her into marriage, Lucy. I couldn't stand by and watch her suffer, pressured into marrying a stranger. We'll get divorced in a week, after which you and I can get married." … One week later, I send Hayden a message as he waits for me in front of the city hall, dressed in a suit. "We'll never meet again, Hayden."

When the flood hit, my husband, Patrick Holmes, who was part of the rescue team, stood between me and his first love, Victoria Clarke, torn with hesitation written all over his face. Without thinking twice, I shoved the only lifebuoy into Victoria's arms. In my previous life, Patrick had handed the lifebuoy to me instead and stayed behind with Victoria, choosing to die alongside her. Just before they both drowned, rescuers arrived in the nick of time and pulled him out, but Victoria didn't make it—she drowned that day. After that, he devoted himself completely to me, taking care of me in every moment of our daily lives. I had thought that the disaster made him cherish me more, but I was wrong—so terribly wrong. While I was hospitalized, Patrick unplugged my oxygen tank himself. He hissed, "If you hadn't insisted on going home to rest that day, I wouldn't have been torn on who to save, and she wouldn't have died. Now, you'll atone to her in the afterlife." I struggled helplessly as my vision blurred and death crept in. Then, everything went dark. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day the flood began.