When He Disappears Let Him Go Novels & Stories

My mate’s sister, Selene, was with pup when she leapt from the highest tower of Blackrock Keep. Before she died, she sent me one final whisper through the pack bond. “Lyra saw him.” From that day on, I became the greatest sinner in Stormcliff. Everyone believed I knew who had driven Selene to her death. The elders demanded the truth. My father-in-law, the aged Alpha, knelt before me. My mother-in-law, the elder Luna, clutched my legs and begged until her voice broke. But I said nothing. For two years, I carried the secret alone. Darian, my mate, did not exile me. Instead, he stayed by my side, gentler than ever. I thought he still loved me. Until the day I gave birth to his pup. That night, he locked me inside the cold stone dungeon and brought out the Soul Recollection Device. Every wolf who had used that device either died or lost their mind. As the silver needles pierced into my skull, Darian stood before me with bloodshot eyes. “If you won’t speak,” he said, his voice cold and shaking, “then I’ll tear the truth out of your soul myself.” He thought I was protecting Selene’s murderer. But when he finally saw the truth I had buried for him, Darian went mad.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

When I accompany my best friend, Olivia Martin, to the hotel in hopes of catching her partner in the act red-handed, I end up catching my own husband, Wilson Gunner, instead. I don't break down in tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. In fact, I even shoot a smile at the young lady who's with Wilson. "Don't worry. I'll keep this a secret." The lady shoots me a grateful look before stumbling out of the hotel room haphazardly. Not only does Wilson not feel any sense of shame, but he also looks at me approvingly. "I knew you were sensible enough to not cause a fuss. Since you're a plastic surgeon, you should know that it's rare to see young ladies who have never gone under the knife nowadays. "The woman from earlier is au naturale. Besides, she's all clean and pure, so you have nothing to worry about." I lower my gaze and nod gently in agreement. But I don't plan on telling Wilson that the so-called au naturale woman was still a young man last week.

On my son Theo’s birthday, my husband Dashiell brought home his first love, Sabrina. My son was forgotten, I was ignored, and my mother-in-law treated me like a servant. Dashiell, instead of comforting me, declared that because Sabrina was dying of cancer, he would fake a divorce and marry her to fulfill her dying wish. I could no longer endure it—I decided to turn the “fake divorce” into a real one. Dashiell thought he had everything under control, but he underestimated me…

Kaelani spent her life believing she was wolfless. Cast out by her pack. Forgotten by the Lycans. She lived among humans—quiet, invisible, tucked away in a town no one looked at twice. But when her first heat comes without warning, everything changes. Her body ignites. Her instincts scream. And something primal stirs beneath her skin— summoning a big, bad Alpha who knows exactly how to quench her fire. When he claims her, it’s ecstasy and ruin. For the first time, she believes she’s been accepted. Seen. Chosen. Until he leaves her the next morning— like a secret never to be spoken. But Kaelani is not what they thought. Not wolfless. Not weak. There is something ancient inside her. Something powerful. And it’s waking. And when it does— they’ll all remember the girl they tried to erase. Especially him. She’ll be the dream he keeps chasing… the one thing that ever made him feel alive. Because secrets never stay buried. And neither do dreams.

Even though this longing keeps coming to say hello, I still hope to be able to let go of this longing. With you I know, that happy turns out to be as simple as this Aahhh... This warm spring restores me to memories of three years ago. It's been that long but it still sticks in my mind. A sweet girl with a brown hair and hazel eyes haunted my mind. I don't know what magic she did to me cause I can't stop thinking about her. Not to least how long I sat in the Moidef cafe, next to the table on it there were three empty cups that were then filled with coffee in this morning. If she is here, surely she will scold me. I smile considering that. I didn't want to be dissolved in the thoughts, I immediately saw the watch in my hand that had shown a figure of three. Ah... three hours in the spring. Triple hour. I and her. In the spring. Unseen my memory back at the backlash of the past. 15th of December, 2017 ' Let's increase the speed...!' She shouted.

Even knowing that wailing at an Eravalen aristocratic funeral was considered disrespectful to the deceased, I let my husband's adopted sister make a scene anyway. In my previous life, my husband, Robert Baker, had a distant relative among the Eravalen aristocracy who passed away. A lawyer informed him that he stood to inherit the estate and invited him to attend the funeral. His adopted sister, Mia Carter, insisted on tagging along to see how the privileged few in another country lived. She wanted to rub shoulders with nobles and make herself look important, even planning to wail dramatically in front of everyone. I rushed to stop her. "Loud mourning is taboo among the Eravalen nobility. Forget inheriting anything. We'll all be thrown out!" Yet she burst into tears, accusing me of looking down on her and thinking she was not good enough to mingle with aristocrats. She stormed out and was killed by street thugs in a random attack. I thought Robert would fall apart, but he stayed silent through the entire funeral and collected his inheritance without a hitch. Six months later, on our wedding anniversary, he took me to the snowy mountains for a photoshoot. The moment we reached the peak, he shoved me into a sleeping bag and tied it shut. "If you hadn't blown everything out of proportion, Mia never would've run off and gotten herself shot." He buried me alive in the snow. I froze to death, and he used that aristocratic fortune to become the CEO of a publicly traded company. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Mia insisted on wailing at the funeral.

My husband was working over the holidays, again. He’d been sent out of town to oversee one of the Family’s dock operations and a string of gambling houses.. I decided to buy a ticket and surprise him. Only business class was left. Staring at the five-figure price, I gritted my teeth and spent a year’s worth of savings. Then I couldn’t even figure out how to pull down the damn tray table. The socialite seated next to me let out a cold laugh. “Never flown business class before?” I forced an awkward smile. “My apologies. You must be… important. You have that aura.” “Oh, me? No. The man who keeps me is important. He’d charter a private jet if I asked. Business class is practically slumming it.” I blinked. “A… keeper? That’s rare.” “Not really. I’m his secretary. I mess up a lot. Cost him a fortune. He yells at me until I cry. And then, well… crying leads to other things.” She winked. “You know how it is.” “Funny,” I said, my voice tight. “My husband has an assistant who helps him manage accounts for the docks. She’s always messing things up too.” “You’re married?” She looked me over, head to toe. “My man has a wife about your age. Says he’s sick of her. That touching her is boring. Says I’m more exciting just brushing my hair out of my face.” She leaned closer. “I told him I wanted to see him for New Year’s. So he told the wife he had to work.” The diamond on her finger caught the light. It was identical to the wedding band I’d lost. My body went cold. No. Matteo was just a low-level enforcer. A foot soldier the Family occasionally trusted with small operations—dock shipments, backroom gambling, nothing more. When did he become a Don?

The love that I knew wasn't like the ones written in a book. It wasn't beautiful and magical. It doesn't bring butterflies in my stomach and it doesn't make me feel special. It doesn't feel like home, I do not feel secure. It does not make me feel safe and worthy. The love that I experience doesn't feel like love. I'm not really sure if it is love because it made me doubt, insecure and made me feel unloved. And all I experienced was pain. No it was torture. To see him love someone else when all I could do is to love him and let him love her. Now I don't know if I could ever love someone else, after him.

When I was a kid my entire family committed suicide. Weird, I know. Unfortunately, they thought themselves as unfit to live and ended their life. They had gotten themselves stuck in something deep and dark with a couple of the demons around our neighborhood and their contract was coming due. So at the age of only 13, I was left to fend for myself and survive in a world full of werewolves and demons. ~ I am Lisa Summers and my family was once one of the most powerful werewolf packs in North America. That is, however, only because of a contract made by a demon. After their deaths, the pack diminished to almost nothing. The spell cast upon the pack members had been lifted and they saw no reason to stick around. I was left with no one to support me and I was f****d to find my own way through life. My title as the Alpha's daughter slowly slipped back to Omega in a matter of hours. Nobody wanted anything to do with me. I was a freak in their eyes. They were embarrassed of me, I humiliated them. I was supposed to be strong and lead the pack when her parents couldn't and I wasn't able to. I was an Omega at heart. I always had been, no matter the spell the demon put on everyone. I was an Omega and they were finally beginning to see that. I was weak, pathetic, unloved, and an outcast. Everyone despised me. People who I thought of as family members disowned me. For the first time in my life I was completely and utterly alone. Until I met him. He is the one for me . Only him.