When They Touch Me Novels & Stories

I know that I don't have much time left after getting poisoned by wolfsbane. I don't want to have any regrets, so I travel to the Sacred Crystal Lake, a place I have always wanted to visit. I don't tell anyone that I plan to end my life there. I didn't expect to run into my ex-mate there. We haven't seen each other in ten years. He has become the Alpha that he has always wanted to be, and he's wearing a ring that has another she-wolf's name engraved on it. As for me, I've already thrown away our token of love and erased him from my heart. We're exchanging pleasantries when he suddenly asks, "Do you still hate me, Giselle?" I shake my head. My life is about to end, after all. I don't need to hold on to anything anymore. In the last moments of my life, I just want to see the sea of irises that the Moon Goddess has blessed.

The annual Vittorio family gala was in full swing when my brother, Don Marco Vittorio, decided to host a card game. The stakes were simple: the winner could make one demand of him. Everyone knew I had been brought back to the Vittorio estate three years ago but still hadn't been formally acknowledged as family. They stepped aside, murmuring that this was Marco's way of giving me a chance—a test I might finally pass. Only Gianna, the family's adopted princess, made sure I had none. She counted off her boasts on her fingers. "Marco gives me a black card with a fifty-thousand-euro monthly limit." "He bid on a lighthouse in the Bay of Naples for me." "I give the family toast at New Year's Mass." "My name is on the trust." Four statements. I had one card left. She smiled and delivered the killing blow: "This whole game? Marco threw it just to cheer me up." My heart sank. I looked at my brother. He smiled indulgently—that same smile he'd worn for three years, always taking her side, always asking me to wait. I folded. I laid down my last card. And suddenly, I didn't want to go home that badly anymore. I didn't need the Vittorio name. I was done.

My mom calls me on Friday. "Don't forget to attend the family dinner tomorrow. Your brother loves shrimps, so you should buy more of those at the seafood market in the southern district. "Your sister-in-law loves lamb chops. Why don't you go scour for more in the eastern district? Also, your nephew loves imported strawberries, so you mustn't forget them now." I say yes to everything. But as soon as I end the call, I see a new message in the family's group chat. "I already told Alan the things that we love to eat. It's hard for you all to earn money, so you shouldn't buy anything at all." One second later, the message is swiftly deleted. Still, the sight renders me stunned. I've been married for two years. During every Saturday dinner, I'm the one putting in money and effort just to organize said dinner. I've been thinking that I don't have to count every little favor, seeing as we're family and all. But it seems that I've already become an outsider a long time ago. Well then, I shall not be attending the family dinner this time.

I died in the year my husband hated me most. Unable to endure his endless silent treatment any longer, I swallowed a bottle of pills and ended my life. At the crematorium, watching the flames roar inside the furnace, he allowed himself a rare smile. “Someone as vile as her doesn’t deserve to be laid to rest whole.” So when the staff handed him the urn, he flipped it over. My ashes scattered across the floor in an instant. All this time, he had believed I was responsible for the death of his first love. That belief was why he had schemed and plotted for years, all for this precise moment of final desecration. When it was over, he stepped over my ashes and walked away without looking back. Though not long after that, he fell to his knees and begged the crematorium to give my ashes back to him.

The house was on fire. My husband–a firefighter–rescued our son first. And the kitten his first love had left behind. Then, to comfort the frightened woman, he rushed off without a second thought. When his colleagues asked my son if anyone else was still inside, he glanced in my direction… and shook his head. "There's no one else." I was later found screaming for help, barely alive. Outside my hospital room, my son looked at me with disappointment. "Why didn't you just burn to death in there? "If you were gone, Aunt Maya could be my mom."

Denny parades as the Alpha bully…strong, untouchable, feared by all. But beneath the fists and fury, he's hiding a dangerous secret: he is an Omega. A lonely, horny one. When Jay, heir to a rival clan, the true definition of a ruthless Alpha, crashes into his life and challenges his dominance, Denny's carefully built facade begins to crack. Now, it's war...between a real Alpha and a pretender. Except Jay soon saw through Denny...and wanted more than sovereignty. Wanted his muscles and strength in his bed.

This book contains mature themes, intense romance, and adult situations. Do not Touch explores complicated desires, emotional conflicts, and darker aspects of relationships. It includes themes such as violence, strong language, power dynamics, and mature experiences. This story is intended for a mature audience. Reader discretion is advised.

Executed for treason by the man she once loved, Lady Evelyne thought death would be the end of her story. Instead, she wakes up five years in the past....before the betrayal, before the bloodshed, before becoming the doomed fiancée of the ruthless Crown Prince. This time, she knows exactly how the kingdom will fall. Determined to survive, Evelyne hides her memories behind a perfect smile while secretly changing the future one move at a time. But the more she tries to avoid the cold and dangerous prince destined to destroy her, the more his attention begins to follow her. Because this version of Evelyne is smarter, colder and untouchable. As political conspiracies tighten around the throne and enemies emerge from the shadows, Evelyne realizes her past life may have been built on lies. And the man she swore to hate might not be the real villain after all.

Harry Pate fails in his plan to secure a fortune from my family. He tries to drug me, hand me over to his friends, and even film it to control me. Luckily, a kind netizen overhears him plotting with his mistress at a restaurant. The netizen posts a missing person alert online. "Please share widely. Looking for Freya White. Her boyfriend is trying to drug and assault her." I see the post and quietly pour the drug into the pot they are about to drink from.

On the seventh year after the breakup, I receive a package from Clarence Fraser. All 44 pounds of said package consist of the stacks of chat history I have with him in the past. Soon, Clarence's text appears on my phone screen. "Wanna meet up? I'd like to tell you something." I pause momentarily before responding with a "1". That number signifies rejection. Then, I turn my phone off. After wiping my sweat off with a towel, I pick up another crate of fruits and continue promoting them to the customers loudly, as though nothing has happened. It's been so many years, and I don't know why Clarence decides to text me all of a sudden. Similarly, he doesn't know that I've already become someone else's wife a long time ago.