When The Roses Bloom Again Novels & Stories

In Nightfang Pack, an Alpha heir can only claim the woman he loves if he draws the Moonmark. For six straight years, Seth drew a blank lot. This year, I overheard him speaking to his Beta. “Alpha, are you really going to switch the Moonmark for a blank lot again?” “Aren’t you afraid Layla will learn the truth and leave you? She may seem gentle, but she’s strong-willed deep down. If she truly decides to go, no one can hold her back.” Seth’s voice was calm and certain. “She has no family and no friends. If she leaves me, where could she possibly go?” “Ian’s father died saving me. His last wish was for me to stay by her side for six years. When this year ends, I’ll give Layla the grand mating ceremony she deserves.” The last shred of hope in my heart shattered the moment I heard those words. What he never knew was that if he failed to claim me this year, I would not be the one abandoned. I would return to my true pack. Take back the name and throne I had hidden for him. Seth, as the heir to the Starmoon Pack, I was never someone who needed your protection.

My boyfriend, Yves Steward, is the head of the orthopedic department. When Julia Henderson and I get into an accident at the same time, he pushes my hands away and shouts, "Stop this nonsense, Summer Simpson! Julia needs to be operated on immediately!" So, I'm the one who deserves to die. The day my skeleton is donated to the orthopedic department, Yves sits in his office for a day and night. Later, the man known as the hospital's genius orthopedist never holds a scalpel ever again.

For one perfect month, we were trapped in a snow covered town, and I believed my arranged husband finally chose me, that he finally saw me for who I am. Three years later, I learned the harsh reality that the snow never trapped us. He was the one that did. The story he sold to me was all his. Then, the woman he once loved with his life returned ...and with her were secrets that could destroy all of us. But Damon Hayes isn’t the master player. He wasn't the only one who kept the truth buried deep for years. Because I was never just his quiet, and convenient wife. I was more than a doctor who married him for duty. And when this marriage finally collapses as it would soon, it won’t be me begging to be chosen. It will be him begging not to lose me.

"At a time when I needed you most, you ended our relationship. You claimed that I wasn't the one you loved, called me a whore, and said that I wasn't your type from the start. So what do you expect me to do?" "Beg!" Michael responded immediately. "I anticipate that you will plead for mercy." "You don't deserve my plea, Michael. You're not worth my tears..." She was about to say more when Michael forcefully kissed her, making it difficult for her to breathe. "Is that why you sold yourself to Kelvin?" He inquired after releasing her lips. Nora wiped her lips with her knotted hands. She looked at him fearlessly and replied, "Who I sell myself to is none of your concern. As the whore you called me, you shouldn't be keeping track of how many men I sleep with." Her response enraged Michael, and he pushed her and raped her, only to discover that she was still a virgin. If he begs for a second chance, will Nora ever forgive him?

She watched her boyfriend drop to one knee, not for her, but for another woman. Humiliated. Betrayed. Disowned by her own mother. Krystalina is left with nothing, no dignity, no home, not even a single penny to her name. Just when she thinks life cannot be cruel, London’s richest and most ruthless lawyer offers her a lifeline. A marriage contract. A surrogacy agreement. Strict rules : No emotions. No sexual intimacy. No attachment with the baby. But rules are meant to be broken.The moment passion blurs the lines, secrets begin to unravel and the truth behind his cold proposal threatens to destroy them both. Can a relationship born out of betrayal survive their love? * “You’ve been a very bad girl, Mrs Ashton. Always disobeying me.” His thumb brushed over my lower lip, possessive, stealing my breath. “I don’t want my baby to be ill-mannered, like you” he said calmly. Tears welled in my eyes at his audacity. “Then you should terminate the contract.”

Caleb Lawson's childhood sweetheart, Yvette Grant, is pregnant. No one knows who the father is. Caleb decides to claim the child as his for the sake of her reputation. Meanwhile, my child turns into a bastard whose father is unknown. "Yvie has always been obedient—getting pregnant out of wedlock is too cruel a fate for her. She won't be able to accept the criticism and mockery." His simple explanation turns our five-year relationship into a joke. Later, my family bring me to the hospital for an abortion. Caleb stays by Yvette's side, caring for her like she's a precious treasure. By the time he gets home, I've already aborted the baby and left him.

One of my roommates at the dorm was a competitive person. Whenever I studied, she would be anxious. If I opened a package, she would ask me what I was buying. She would also pressure me to tell her my whereabouts. There was even a time when I turned in my bed, she suddenly opened my divider curtain and asked me if I was secretly studying. I was literally going to go insane, but our nonchalant counsellor told me that I was overreacting. After that, I failed to secure a postgraduate position, but she managed to study overseas. When she returned, she became my supervisor. She told everyone she met that I was a very competitive person, and she kept assigning a lot of tasks for me to do. In the end, I died from overworking. When I opened my eyes again, I saw her get into my bed. I recorded the sound of pages flipping and turned on the night light. I played the recording for the entire night. If she wanted to be anxious and lose her sleep, so be it!

“Ms. Arnold, you really should sign this divorce agreement. Otherwise, I won’t be able to answer to Mr. Fisher.” Jeremy Fisher’s personal lawyer, Cole Stewart, stood in front of Hailey Arnold with an anxious expression. In his hands were a freshly printed divorce agreement, the pages still crisp. This was the thirty-third time Jeremy had asked to divorce her. The first time, Hailey climbed onto the rooftop and jumped. She survived but broke one of her legs. The second time, she slashed her wrist with a small knife, and blood flooded half the bathroom. The third time, she swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and spent three days in the hospital having her stomach pumped. … Every single time, she had used death to force Jeremy to compromise, but this time, she was tired of it.

On the day we receive our bonus, one of the staff members of the finance department gives me 500 dollars worth of vouchers for the fast food restaurant downstairs. He tells me that my wife, Jillian Dunn, who is also the company's president, specifically ordered him to do so. In utter disbelief, I seek out Jillian and question her. "Didn't we agree that whoever secures the project will get a 50,000-dollar bonus? Stop messing around! I still need to pay for Freya's cochlear implant!" "I'm not messing around with you," Jillian answers seriously. "These vouchers can last you for a whole month. I wouldn't even give them to you if you were anyone else. "Money is tight right now at the company. Besides, Freya has been deaf for more than a decade now. She can survive being deaf for another decade." The next day, Jillian gives one of the interns a sports car that's worth 50,000 dollars. I look at the photo she uploads of her and the intern grinning widely as they sit in the car and give it a like. Jillian must assume that everything is proceeding smoothly since she has signed the contract. However, she misses the additional condition that's printed on the last page of the contract. I dial her rival's number, asking, "Ms. Swan, are you interested in Project Charlie?"

My blood ran cold. Not just because of the words, they’d done worse than the scheme. They mocked me. Rewrote my pain as a punchline. Danced on the grave of my dignity like it was confetti. I staggered back from the door, suddenly aware of how my hands were trembling. Of how my chest rose and fell like I was still being dragged underwater. I could still feel it, the betrayal. The nights I cried myself sick. The baby. The blood. The gaslighting. The cold stares. The silence. No, this wasn’t just a memory. It was a resurrection. I pressed my hand to my chest, grounding myself. This body? This moment? It was mine now. Not theirs. Not his. If this was a curse, I’d break it. If this was a second chance? I’d weaponize it. Let them laugh. Let them bask in their borrowed joy. Because from this moment on, I’m not playing the quiet, obedient pawn. I’m the storm they tried to silence. The reckoning wrapped in silk and scars. They don’t deserve peace. Not after what they did to me. I’ll make them feel it. The same agony, the same betrayal. No, worse. Double. And the Kensingtons? Oh, they won’t be spared either. Their blood's just as soaked in my suffering. I lived by their rules in my last life. In this one? They live by mine. And mercy? Yeah, I left that behind in the last timeline.