Trap No Way Out Novels & Stories

Before the start of the marking ceremony, my mate's childhood sweetheart, Gracie Green, almost drowns in the swimming pool. Simon Lloyd is bent on thinking that I was the one who pushed Gracie into the pool with the intent to murder her. So, he has me tied up in the bathtub as a punishment. "One year ago, you pushed Gracie down the stairs and cost her her pup! Now, you even intend to drown her! Why are you such a vile and selfish she-wolf? "Anyway, the marking ceremony shall only be held once you've finally acknowledged your mistakes!" When I'm in the middle of getting corroded by silver nitrate, Simon is busy celebrating Gracie's birthday with her. When Gracie pretends to be all gracious by suggesting to Simon that I should be released, he replies instantly, "Hmph! I'll only let Juliette out when she finally apologizes for her mistakes! This is what she gets for bullying you all the time, anyway!" After that, he gives my favorite moonstone necklace to Gracie as her birthday gift. One week later, Simon receives the prenatal vitamins that I've bought beforehand. He's finally willing to release me from the bathroom. The news of my pregnancy delights him so much that he keeps telling everyone he meets that he's about to become a father. But what he doesn't know is that the water running from the bathtub's tap has been changed to silver nitrate. My body has gotten corroded to the point that I'm now a pile of bones.

The day before our engagement, Stellan Graves came shopping with me, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. I bought a chili dog from a street stall and held it up to his mouth only for him to swat it out of my hand, sending it flying to the ground. Fury flashed across his face as he snapped, "Ivy Stein, the Graves family needs a woman who can actually show her face in public. Stop buying cheap trash like this. You're embarrassing me. How do you expect my parents to accept you like this?" I picked up the food in humiliation, threw it into the trash, and nodded meekly for the sake of our four years together in college. "As you wish." … However, the very next day, he switched his fiancee to Amelia Lane. "Ivy, Amelia tried to kill herself just to marry me. She's in the hospital now. Once she's stable again, I'll come back and marry you." Four years later, he showed up at my tiny apartment with a diamond ring in hand. "Ivy, Amelia has already agreed to divorce me. We can finally be together. I told you before—once Amelia lets go of her obsession with me and stops hurting herself, I'll come and marry you." I frowned at Stellan's so-called heartfelt expression. I must have had terrible luck that day. Who'd have thought I'd run into this wacko when I'd come back to my place on a whim?! "Move," I demanded, shoving him out the door. "You're blocking the way. I need to pick up my kid from school."

The last time I argued with my husband, he slammed the door on me and left. I was so upset that I died from a heart attack. Meanwhile, he took his lover and her son traveling to take his mind off things. The entire time, our daughter, who was just a child, was abandoned at home for seven days with my corpse. At last, when Eliott remembered me and my daughter, he returned home to see my corpse. Having fallen sick, my daughter was all skin and bones. When Eliott realized his mistake, he hugged our daughter tightly and broke down crying in front of my grave. My daughter pulled away from him and hid behind my gravestone. She hissed sharply at him, “Who do you think you are? Don't disturb Mommy’s rest!”

While I was traveling overseas with my family, a sudden flood hit. My fiancé slung my sister Joan over his back because her legs were weak, and ran for safety. My parents didn't have time for me, but they still remembered to grab the parrot they had just bought for Joan. All of them flew home overnight and even posted in the family group chat about how lucky everyone was to survive. But… They forgot something. I was still trapped in the flood, alone and helpless. When I woke up, I called my mentor without hesitation. "Dr. Jackson, I've decided to go with you and join Doctors Without Borders. I'm never coming back."

After reliving my life for the third time, Soren Vantrell still died at 28. Unwilling to accept it, I started over again, meeting him and falling in love as before, until a sudden turn changed everything. He began claiming his mental state was unstable, using it as an excuse to visit his psychologist, Dr. Nadia Pembroke, again and again. Until one day, I caught them kissing inside her consultation room. With a light, mocking laugh, Soren said, "You might think I’m crazy if I told you this, but I really have died three times. Every single time, I died right next to Sloane Hartwell. "I was originally curious to see how she would try to save me this time. Now that I think about it, she must have been bad luck. Once I stayed far away from her, didn’t I end up living just fine?" I quietly stepped back. In this fourth life, whether he lived or died has nothing to do with me anymore. This time, I was going to live my own life.

I never wanted to gamble, yet I could not stop myself from going to the tables. I kept losing, over and over, until I was buried under ten million in debt. After investigating the cause, I finally learned the truth–my older brother had placed me under a puppet-like control. Every loss was recorded under my name, while all the winnings went straight into his pocket. My wife was furious. She slapped me, took our son, and divorced me. I tried to explain myself again and again, but she refused to listen. "Nathan, can you stop making excuses? Did someone hold a knife to your throat? You chose to gamble." After that, my brother only grew more ruthless, raising the stakes until I lost everything overnight. With nothing left, my creditors chopped off my limbs and threw me into the sea, leaving me to drown. Even after my death, they did not spare my wife and child. She was humiliated to death, and my son was sold overseas, his whereabouts unknown. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I first lost control and went to the gambling den.

A year after my divorce, my ex-husband, Harvey Fisher, pings me in a group chat. "This cold war has gone on for long enough. Come home—let's remarry." I reply, "Have you lost your mind?" Everyone in the group chat tries to convince me to take Harvey back. Meanwhile, he asks, "What have you been doing without me in your life?" I turn to look at my current husband, who's putting our child to sleep. I reply, "Recovering after having a child." The group chat members are initially excited, but they instantly fall silent at my words. Harvey angrily calls me countless times, but I ignore him. His mind is not the only thing he's lost—he's also lost the young woman who once loved him more than life itself.

"You're no daughter of this pack," my mother hissed, her golden eyes flashing in the firelight. "If you can't support your Alpha sister, then get out." I should have seen it coming. In the Ashveil Pack, family means everything—unless you're me. Vera Darkthorne, the disappointment. While my perfect sister Eris got the love, the title, even my mate Cain, I got a mating ceremony where nobody showed up. Not even the man who swore he'd always be mine. That night, I ran. Now I've built a new life in Berlin's underground werewolf syndicate, where strength is the only law that matters. I've learned to fight, to lead, to make wolves twice my size back down with just a look. But when a message comes that Eris's dying, the pack demands my return. "Come home, Vera," my father's voice crackles through the phone. "Your sister needs you." I almost laugh. After everything? But this time, I'm not the weak wolf they left behind. This time, I have fangs of my own. And when wolves hunt you down, you don't run—you rip their throats out first.

Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year. Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class. At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore. He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed. I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up. The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness. Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back. His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice. So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.

I've accidentally worn a dress belonging to my deceased older sister, Gwendolyn Stokes, to a family banquet. Because of that, my husband, Thomas Torres, goes quiet with fury. He then sentences me to a punishment of kneeling in the snow for three long hours. The blizzard chills me to the bone. My son, Robin Torres, makes fun of me while hurling snowballs at me. "No matter how much you dress up, you'll always be a phony! Don't think you can go around replacing my mommy just because you've changed into her dress!" As I stare at Robin's face, which bears some resemblance with mine, I feel my heart breaking. He has no idea that I'm his actual mother. On the year Gwendolyn passed away, Thomas, who drank himself into a stupor, mistook me for her. That night, he kept moaning Gwendolyn's name and whispering sweet nothings to me. That was how I got pregnant with Robin. Thomas has forbidden me from telling anyone the truth. On the other hand, I can't bear to leave my own child alone. So, I beg Thomas repeatedly to let me stay in the Torres residence. During my stay here, Thomas gives me the cold shoulder all the time. Only when he needs to vent his desire does he seek me out. What I didn't expect is that Robin hates my guts as well. Not only does he keep pulling pranks on me from time to time, but he also curses at me. "Shameless women like you have no right to stay in my home! Once I grow up, I'll definitely kick you out!" Now, I can finally respond to him. "Oh, I don't have to wait for you to grow up at all." Tomorrow, I'll pack my things and leave. I no longer want to remain as someone else's replacement and continue living a life of humiliation. This time, I'm going to pursue a life of my own.