439 Book(s) Related to trauma theory trauma story

Aria never wanted to marry Kael, the arrogant playboy her father forced her to accept as her fiancé. But Kael had his own twisted motives-he only wanted her because she was the one girl who refused him. When Aria rejected his demand to sleep with him a week before their wedding, Kael tried to take what he wanted by force. His drunken pursuit ended in tragedy when he was struck by a car, leaving Aria caught in the crossfire of blame.

Zander, Kael's elder brother and the soon-to-be Alpha King, believed Aria was responsible for his brother's death-and promiscuous to boot. To prevent war between their packs, Zander agreed to marry her, but only for revenge. His plan? Ruin Aria's life for a year, then cast her aside and divorce her.

But Zander's scheme begins to unravel when his ex-best friend Asher returns, determined to take Aria for himself. As secrets from the past resurface, Zander discovers betrayal, lies, and truths he never wanted to face. Was Aria truly guilty, or was she just another pawn in a deadly game of power and revenge?

Asher laugh and say, "You're a fool; she never wanted to come. I told her you were with Lyra, so she came. And now I've achieved my goal: I ruined your marriage."

Zander feel foolish, asking, "But why? I never did anything to you! You were my best friend. I should have killed you when you slept with my ex fiancée, Lyra!"

Asher respond, "You knew I loved her, but you stole Lyra from me. She was my true mate, but she refused to marry me because you were soon to be the Alpha King! She never loved you. She loved me but wanted to be the queen of werewolves; that's all."

Elorai.

They burnt my lab to the ground.

They killed my scientists… with their claws.

The white, pristine walls they coated with blood and brain matter.

Now they’re glaring down at me, teeth bared.

But they won’t kill me.

No… they’ll take me instead, keep me in a cage, and bind me forever to them.

Joke’s on them.

They’re insane if they think I won’t claw my way out.



Ronan. Knox. Lucas

She was our target—the one we were sent to kill.

And that’s what we originally planned to do.

But we had her beneath our teeth, and instead of pleading for her life, she fucking glared at us.

Daring us.

Worst part? Our alpha wills weren’t working. Her scent bothered our wolves.

So we changed our minds.

We’ll keep her… for now.

And kill everyone who tries to take her from us.


Elorai—or “Lo,” like her scientist buddies called her—was just fine, living her life as a test subject for her white-coated handlers, getting cut open and sewn back together, until one day they looked at her and tagged her successful.

That’s when everything shattered.

In an instant, her lab was destroyed and everyone she knew was killed.

She tried to run, but her attackers caught her.

Werewolves… or mad beasts, like her scientists called them.

The plan was to kill on sight—but all three beasts looked down at her, their eyes gleaming... And something shifted in their gazes.

That’s when she knew she was in trouble.

Can she survive them or will she let them ruin her? Read to find out!

The Alaskan winds cut across my face like knives, but only one thought consumed me—why hadn't Madison shown up to get me? In ten years, my sister had never failed to be there.

Until I walked in on my brother-in-law tangled up with some blonde bitch, and my world shattered. "Fallen through ice in a blizzard"? What a goddamn lie. They cut open her eight-month pregnant belly to steal her baby—while she was still conscious. They let her suffer for 47 excruciating minutes before she died.

I didn't break out of the psych ward to cry about it. I came back so these monsters can pay their blood debts in full. They think I was born wicked? Fine. Let me show them exactly how it feels to have your living body sliced open.

"She's dying, can't you be more generous?" That's what my husband said.
So I was generous.
I gave her my husband's time when our daughter was in the ER for an allergic reaction she caused.
I gave her my once-in-a-lifetime concert ticket because "she deserved it more."
I even endured our daughter wishing I would die in her place.
But when he accused me of orchestrating a kidnapping to win his sympathy, I knew my generosity had run out. I threw the divorce papers in his face. He laughed, thinking I couldn't survive without him.
He's about to find out how wrong he is.

t the most expensive medical charity gala in Manhattan, Avery Hale came in through the service corridor because she hated cameras. She wore a black dress without a label, carried her own coat, and kept her name off every donor wall.

That was the point. For seven years, Avery had hidden the money she made from film scores and documentary royalties inside an anonymous foundation that paid for surgeries, trials, and second chances for children whose families had run out of all three. She had built Second Dawn quietly because quiet was the one thing her old family had never been able to take from her.

Then the Mercers saw her.

The parents who had adopted her and discarded her. The golden son they had asked her to fund, praise, and disappear for. The family that once called her selfish for wanting college now called her a fraud for standing in a room she had paid to build.

They thought Avery had slipped into the gala to beg. They thought the powerful man watching from the edge of the ballroom was only another rich stranger. They thought public shame would make her small again.

They were wrong about every part of her.

I was reborn on the exact day I was supposed to sign the marriage contract with the Alpha Kael.

I didn't hesitate. I crossed out my name and wrote my stepsister's instead. Let her have the bastard. I took my mother's estate back and headed straight to the underground shifter bar.

"Bring me the hottest wolf warriors you've got. All of them," I told the bartender, slapping a wad of cash down.

I was done being the obedient Luna.

"You useless thing."
My husband Cassian stared at me coldly. "I thought marrying a Costa daughter would get me something, but it turns out to be nothing. And your sister, on the contrary, has become the family heir."
With that, he wrenched off our wedding ring and smashed it violently onto the ground.
"I should have chosen her in the first place, not you." Those were his final words to me.
In my previous life, I was an unrecognized illegitimate daughter of a mafia family. I obediently accepted the arranged marriage, bared my heart to my hypocritical relatives, and believed wholeheartedly in my husband's promises.
But in the end, all I got was the iron chains of the dungeon, dying with eternal regret and the unresolved truth behind my mother's tragic death. My mother and I were nothing but stepping stones in their power struggle.
Yet when I opened my eyes again, I was back three weeks after my mother's passing — at the engagement scene that decided my entire fate.
This time, I'll make every single one of them understand: they made the wrong choice!

My pack's golden girl—my adopted sister—vanished. On my eighteenth birthday—the day my wolf should have awakened—my parents dragged me to a witch.
"Show us what you did to her."
Fine. Let them look.
Let them see who drugged me the day I came home. Who stole credit while I bled. Who smiled while planning my destruction.
They chose their precious Rosalie over me for three years.
They wanted the truth?
They were about to choke on it.

I was the best student, the most obedient, the most compliant—yet the only unloved child in our family.

When my brother got into fights, I took his punishment. When my sister snuck out with boys, I bore the consequences. Mom force-fed me pills and made me get my stomach pumped just to scare my brother away from smoking. Dad dressed ten-year-old me like a prostitute and threw me into a bar to warn my sister against going astray.

In the end, they sold me to a gambler for a few hundred dollars.

I died in a dark pond, and no one heard me calling for help.

But when my spirit drifted home, they were gathered around the dinner table, laughing and talking as if nothing was wrong.

It wasn't until the police knocked on their door that they realized—I had been missing for seven whole days.

Later, my brother clutched the chocolate he never got to give me, crying every day. My sister dreamed every night of ten-year-old me struggling and screaming in that bar. Dad knelt at my grave daily, consumed by guilt. And Mom, after killing that gambler, threw herself into the same pond where I had drowned.

Finally, they loved me.

But I was already dead.

They left me to die in a burning lab while saving my faker sister. Big mistake.

I hadn't slept in six months, perfecting the neural serum that would save Mom's life. One vial. One chance. Then my adopted sister Mia grabbed it and smashed it on the floor, sobbing about how cruel I was to a "disabled" person.

Mom and Dad ate it up. My fiancé Ryan nodded along—probably because he was banging Mia every chance he got. When fire trapped me in the lab, they carried out "paralyzed" Mia and left me hammering on reinforced glass, choking on smoke.

Want to know the best part? That manipulative snake hopped out of her wheelchair and sprinted to safety the second she thought no one was looking.

Second chance at life? Hell yes.

I'm watching Mia lift that test tube again, ready to destroy everything. But instead of lunging forward like last time, I lean back in my chair.

"Smash away," I say with a shrug. "I'm not the one who'll suffer."

Let's see how this plays out when I'm not the naive fool.

19 year old Bellatrix finds herself exiled to an enemy pack priorn to the destruction of her pack. And to worsen things, the one who brought her into the world of misery, widely feared and known for his cruelty, Alpha Anslan Robertson, turned out to be her mate.
What was the way forward for this timid young lady who even found it hard to shift?

For three years, I genuinely believed I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Until I hit play on that video.

The moment the screen lit up, my perfect reality shattered into a million jagged pieces.

The woman writhing on the bed was Amanda—the sweet, innocent girl we had both grown up with.

And the hand tracing the curve of her bare skin? It wore the platinum wedding band I had personally slipped onto Louis’s finger.

"I missed you so much..."

"You drive me fucking crazy, baby..."

Hearing my own husband's signature sweet nothings whispered to my childhood best friend gutted me completely.

Our entire social circle constantly praised us as the golden couple. But beneath the glossy surface, who could have guessed this flawless marriage was built on a mountain of sick lies?

Well, if Louis was such a brilliant actor, I figured it was time to give him a show of my own.

I was going to rip off his mask and show the entire world exactly what kind of monster my "perfect husband" truly was.

One of my employees went online and dragged me, claiming I'm making them sacrifice their health for a paycheck and forcing everyone to work over Thanksgiving.

Here's what actually happened. My company gives nine days off for Thanksgiving. Volunteer to work overtime, get triple pay, with a $500 daily meal stipend and a $5,000 bonus. No one gets penalized for not working.

The whole internet's tearing into me for making employees sell their lives for cash. So I give her exactly what she wants and send out a company-wide notice:

To protect employee mental health, the building gets locked and the power gets cut over Thanksgiving. No one is allowed to work for any reason. Anyone who does gets fired.

The minute that email goes out, the employees who were counting on overtime to pay their mortgages lose it. Now they're all crowded outside the building, begging me to open the doors.

I died the day I caught my fiancé cheating.

I had walked in on my cousin and my fiancé, completely naked in the backseat of a brand-new Porsche. It was a car bought with stolen money—embezzled from the estate of my recently deceased grandmother, Margaret.

Panic had set in the moment I discovered them. To stop me from calling the cops, he slammed his foot on the gas.

As a pool of warm blood spread beneath my head, I heard him lying to the first responders: "She’s mentally unstable. She threw herself right in front of the car."

I died exactly like that—labeled a hysterical, suicidal woman.

But just when I thought it was all over, my eyes snapped open.

The hot blood that had just blurred my vision, the shattering agony in my bones—it was all gone.

I've been married to my husband Jake for three years. In that time, I've been pregnant twice.

But each time, I lost the baby.

What took my children wasn't a medical condition, but a painting.

A black bird, painted by Jake's ten-year-old blind brother, Billy.

My in-laws claimed he had the gift—a psychic born with sight beyond sight. And the black bird was an omen. It marked my baby as cursed, a threat to the family.

To save my second child, I got the best amniocentesis report money could buy, proving the baby had no genetic defects.

It happened again anyway.

At three in the morning, I woke to the agony of another miscarriage and stumbled to the studio door.

That's when I found out the truth.

The more I cry, the hornier my sister gets.

Not a metaphor. Stone cold reality. Me and pop superstar Melody share a sick "emotional link" — the worse I suffer, the more she glows on stage.

My husband Christian discovered this secret.

Then he chose to betray me and crawl into bed with Melody.

Now every time Melody has a big show, Christian locks me in the basement, force-feeds me depression pills, and blasts horror movies 24/7 until I'm totally broken.

My despair gets fed straight into Melody's energy, making her perform like she's possessed.

Tonight they're fucking to celebrate her win. Tomorrow's concert means draining me dry again.

Enough!

If my pain is your sex drug, I'm cutting off the supply completely.

I'm going to the medical center to freeze myself for one full year.

Let you two horny bastards screw each other to death!

I was once a world-renowned designer, but I retired for love, dedicating six years to my husband and daughter. But on our anniversary, he spent millions on my final masterpiece, only to place it around another woman's neck on live TV. My own daughter then ran on stage, sweetly calling her 'mommy.' My six years of devotion became a joke. When I asked for a divorce, he sneered, thinking I was just a housewife who couldn't survive three days without him. He has no idea that the legendary designer 'Octavia' he's desperately trying to meet is the wife he cast aside. Now, I’m back. And I'm ready to take back everything that is mine.

Seventeen-year-old Nora thought her biggest problem was surviving senior year—until she fell for Leo, her brother’s best friend and the one boy she was never supposed to want.

Leo is everything she shouldn’t touch: older, dangerous, and hiding something behind those icy blue eyes. When Nora discovers his secret—that he’s a vampire—her world shatters. But instead of running, she lets him in… and one bite binds their souls together forever.

As Nora struggles to balance love, loyalty, and the darkness that now lives inside her, a new person emerges: Killian, a powerful mafia king who sees her not as prey, but as an equal. His offer could change her fate—or end it.

Caught between two worlds and two loves, Nora must decide who she really is…
and what she’s willing to become.

Because the way they look at her—
might be the thing that saves her… or destroys her.

Vanessa is the girl everyone knows, but no one really sees. As a scholarship student at the elite Cresthaven Point Academy, she survives by being invisible, doing the Elites’ homework, and lets the popular kids think she’s a pushover. But she isn’t hiding because she’s shy, she’s hiding because she’s a werewolf. In a world where her kind is supposed to be extinct, staying invisible is the only way to keep her family safe.

Adrian is the guy everyone wants to be. He’s rich, at the top of the social ladder, and bored. He picks on Vanessa because she’s the only person who doesn’t seem to care about his status. There’s something about her he can’t explain, something quiet and strange that makes him want to figure her out.

When an incident at a beach party goes wrong, Vanessa loses control. Adrian sees her move faster than any human should, and suddenly, he’s obsessed with discovering what she is. But being stuck with Adrian makes it hard for Vanessa to stay a ghost. Her wolf is getting restless, and she can't just watch when people are in real danger. Whether it's a freak accident or someone about to die, Vanessa starts stepping in. Soon, the whole school is talking about a Ghost Guardian who does things no human being can do.

While Vanessa becomes the new queen of the school, Adrian's father is closing in. His family has been leading the hunt to wipe out werewolves since the beginning of time. He thinks they are all gone, and he's looking for any sign that one is left. Now Vanessa has to decide: can she really trust the son of the man who was born to destroy her? Or will her secret get them both killed?

I nearly died in the freezing ocean at my adopted sister Jane's birthday party.

When the yacht started tilting and alarms shrieked through the corridors, Dad grabbed Jane and bolted for the deck without looking back. Mom clutched Jane's ragdoll cat in her arms, following close behind under the bodyguards' protection.

They saved the cat.

But left their biological daughter to drown.

Three days later, I staggered home covered in wounds. The living room was decorated with scented candles and a three-tier birthday cake. Light piano music mingled with laughter—they were throwing Jane a makeup birthday party, celebrating how "the whole family" survived the disaster.

I'm Jennifer, a stay-at-home mom. I gave up my art career eight years ago to take care of my family. My husband Julian and my son Garry, they're my whole world.

But lately, I've noticed them getting closer to Mia, Julian's secretary. Little things. Garry asking where "Miss Mia" is. Julian mentioning her at dinner. I told myself it was nothing. I kept quiet. I put up with it.

Until last week, when Garry broke his arm playing hockey. The school called Mia, not me. She was listed as his emergency contact.

That's when I knew I was done.

Chloe faked a billionaire family name, Ethan betrayed the girl who saved his broken knee, and both stole Aria’s award-winning business model to climb Ivy League’s social ladder. They paraded on stage with her crystal trophy, calling her a poor, delusional stalker in front of thousands. What they didn’t know: the “poor girl” is the sole heir to Sterling’s trillion-dollar empire. One phone call brought lawyers, police, and a terrified university president to their knees. Every lie, every theft, every cruel word comes crashing down—hard.

I'm the rightful fucking heir to the Sterling family fortune. My old man made me lay low, keep my head down, live like some regular broke college kid.
But there's this cunt in my dance crew. Walking around flashing her fake designer shit like she's hot shit, acting like she owns the fucking place.
And now she's got her eyes on my boyfriend.
To get close to him? She's telling everyone she's the Sterling family heiress.
Oh really? You're the Sterling heir?
Then who the fuck am I?

From a young age, I understood that my asthma was a shackle for my entire family. My parents took turns caring for me, their hearts gripped by the fear of any sign of respiratory distress. In their fervent concern for my health, they even compelled my sister, Sophie, freshly accepted into university, to postpone her studies and return home to assist in my care.
At Sophie's eighteenth birthday celebration, I lingered at the edge of the crowd, my chest constricted, and my throat felt as if it were ensnared by invisible hands. I gently tugged at my mother's sleeve, my voice barely a whisper: "Mom, I... can't breathe. I want to go back to my room..."
In an instant, my mother whirled around, her eyes ablaze with fury, as though she had awaited this moment of eruption. She seized my inhaler and hurled it into the farthest corner of the room.
"If it's this painful, then go die!" she shrieked, her words cutting like a knife. "Stop using your illness to hold us hostage!"
The inhaler tumbled to the floor, rolling away like a forgotten piece of trash. I stared at it blankly, a sudden laugh escaping my lips.
And then, I truly died. Yet, in the wake of my passing, those who once found me a burden descended into madness.

Five years into living with my stepbrother Gideon, the scholarship girl he sponsored moved into our house.
To repay his "generosity," she made a habit of slipping into his bed at night. By day, she took it upon herself to "fix" my antisocial, withdrawn personality.
Three days before St. George Prep's graduation ceremony, she brought me a glass of juice wearing that nauseating sugar-sweet smile.
"You know, Charlotte, your peanut allergy is probably psychosomatic. You just need some exposure therapy. Let me help you get over it."
That night, my throat closed completely. She'd deliberately laced my drink with concentrated peanut extract.
I convulsed on the cold hardwood floor, vision tunneling as oxygen fled my lungs.
In the last second before darkness swallowed me whole, I clawed desperately toward the half-open door.
Standing in the hallway were my boyfriend Dylan and my stepbrother Gideon.
They simply watched me suffocate. Then Gideon calmly reached out and shut the door.
I died from anaphylactic shock.
Three months later, as a ghost tethered to this world, I watched her stride onto Stanford's campus. Wearing my clothes. Carrying my acceptance letter. Burning through my trust fund.
Through the crowd, I saw Gideon—my ice-cold, unreachable stepbrother—gently cradle her face and press his lips to hers.
Then I gasped awake.
I was back. Three days before graduation.

When I woke up from the car accident, the calendar had jumped to five years later.
who suddenly appeared out of nowhere , was flirting with her lover on the sofa right in front of me, and then threw her credit card in my face: "Useless thing, from today onwards, go earn your own money."
I glanced at my watch and signed the divorce agreement, agreeing to leave with nothing.
Half an hour later, the director of Patek Philippe arrived at my door carrying a royal rare watch and bowed respectfully: "Young Master Stirling, the family welcomes you back."
She froze. I put on my watch and walked out the door without looking back.
Later she realized that when I left with nothing, it wasn't because I had nothing at all, but because I didn't care about what she had.

As the eldest daughter of North America’s most feared Mafia family, the Romanos, I married Matteo purely for love. For five years, everyone constantly envied me, thinking I was the luckiest woman alive.

Until I opened that video file.

The screen flickered to life, and my world violently collapsed.

The woman he had completely pinned against the wall, thrusting into her with feral desperation, was Valentina. His sweet, innocent adopted sister. The girl we had both carefully grown up with.

And the hands gripping her waist so tightly they bruised? They bore the exact wedding band I had lovingly slipped onto Matteo’s finger.

"Oh God, brother… you're so hard. If your perfect wife knew you were deep inside me right now, she’d lose her mind."

"Good girl, then stop talking about that boring piece of wood."

My refined, elegant husband was groaning, his voice filthy and depraved between loud, wet slaps of skin. "Squeeze tighter, fuck... You drive me insane, baby. The moment I successfully drain all her family’s stock, you’ll be the true mistress of this whole estate."

Every sweet nothing he had ever whispered to me was a calculated lie, designed to completely destroy me.

Those two despicable cheaters believe they have successfully won. They think my marriage was built on submission.

Well, since this rising Mafia star completely forgot that I am a Romano first and a wife second, it’s severely past time I gave him a taste of my own wicked performance.

Playtime is over. Matteo thinks he can steal my empire while burying his face in his sister’s bed?

I am going to carefully tear down his "perfect husband" facade piece by bleeding piece, and aggressively send them both straight to hell.

The doomsday of torrential rain arrived, and I evacuated the entire village onto a passenger cruise ship.
At first, the villagers were utterly grateful to me.
But someone spread a rumor out of nowhere, claiming I had a warehouse stuffed full of food yet refused to feed them their fill.
The villagers soon grumbled and rained accusations on me.
Helpless, I opened the warehouse for them to see. There was barely any food left, yet they still refused to believe me.
"Yu Lei! You’ve definitely hidden all the food away!"
"That’s right! He never saved us with a sincere heart at all!"
They rained blows on me and hurled vile insults.
Just then, a gang of ruthless bullies stormed in to seize the ship.
Under the bullies’ brutal tyranny, the entire village was reduced to slaves. Young women became their playthings, and the children suffered an even worse fate.
I wanted to rally the villagers to fight back, but one of them betrayed our plan to the bullies, all just in exchange for a full meal.
In the end, I was beaten to death alive and thrown into the sea to feed the fish.
When I opened my eyes again, I was sent back to three days before the end of the world. I immediately packed my belongings, ready to stay far away from these ungrateful wolves.
Yet the villagers blocked my doorstep, demanding I hand over the cruise ship key.
It turned out I was not the only one reborn—every single villager had also gone back in time.
I obediently gave them the key.
After all, the system told me this would be a zombie apocalypse this time. What good would a ship even be?

In the glittering world of high society and cutthroat ambition, a single sentence shatters a marriage: "Let's get a divorce."

For three years, Claire Thompson has lived in exile, her marriage to the powerful Nelson Cooper a hollow shell existing only on paper. Shipped abroad on her wedding day and utterly forgotten, she returns only to be handed divorce papers. But Claire is no longer the timid, heartbroken girl she once was. Behind her quiet facade lies a woman transformed, secretly rejoicing at her newfound freedom.

However, freedom comes with a price. As Claire signs the papers with relief, a chilling phone call reveals a dark truth: the threats she faced overseas were no accident, and the trail leads shockingly close to home—to the family that raised her and the husband who discarded her.

Just as she prepares to sever all ties, a twist of fate pulls her back into the gilded cage. Nelson, for reasons unknown, suddenly stalls the divorce. Meanwhile, the family that disowned her and the fragile, manipulative sister who stole her life are determined to ruin her reputation and drive her out for good.

But Claire is playing a different game now. With a mysterious new identity, powerful allies, and secrets of her own, she is no one's pawn. As hidden truths unravel and loyalties are tested, a stunning question emerges: In this high-stakes battle of love, betrayal, and revenge, who is truly trapping whom?

Riley
New name, new look, new life. I've been careful to keep my past at bay. The last thing I needed was the stranger with those calm discerning eyes to cross my path. I must avoid him at all costs, even if he haunts my dreams and sends waves of heat across my skin. My focus is survival, not lust. Not even if he ignited a longing I'd never thought possible.

Draven
A mission. Find the missing girls and bring the perpetrator to justice. The retributive kind. I've grown used to the shadows but I am drawn to her light. Moth to a flame, the only way to quell my curiosity is to satiate it. But not too much. Not completely.

TEASER:
You want me, don’t you?” A simple question that warranted a simple answer.
“Should I have had you checked for a head injury?” he scoffed, a swift blow that knocked the wind out of my lungs and I realised I had been holding my breath. My lips parted, and my chest heaved, working overtime to replenish my body’s oxygen from those few moments of starvation.
Steeling my spine, I stepped forward, invading his space, oblivious to the eyes that were thrown our way. Or was I imagining that? Draven didn’t budge, a perfectly shaped brow elevated as he considered my movement with little interest. There wasn’t a single flicker of emotion to cross his features, not even that Godforsaken misleading smile made an appearance.
“Then you’ve no reason to threaten any man I may find interesting.” I breathed the words slowly, erotically.

She rushed home late at night to celebrate her husband's birthday — only to find him with another woman.
"Daddy, when are you and Mommy getting a divorce?" her son asked, innocent and cruel all at once. "I want Auntie to be my new mommy."
She thought of the divorce papers she'd found the day before. Without hesitation, she picked up her phone and dialed her boss.
"I'll join the OriginWorld research program. But I have one condition..."
Months later, she stood at the podium as a national-level AI research consultant, delivering a keynote lecture.
And there, in the audience, sat her ex-husband — staring up at her, utterly stunned.

Noah, usually inseparable from his father, had spent the entire week insisting that only I take him camping. His declared mission: mastering "real survival skills"—a not-so-subtle jab at his dad's preference for cushy glamping.
Liam played along, hamming it up as he swung our son goodbye. But beneath the teasing jealousy, something felt off. He packed the trunk too fast. Checked the gas without being asked. Almost assembly-line efficiency.
And that line about a last-minute client flying in from Chicago? Didn't sound like bad luck. Sounded like an excuse.
All week, he never pushed back. Just quietly, almost eagerly, waited for us to leave.
I figured he wanted the house to himself: scotch, cigars, silence.
Then the call came—and I got it.
He hadn’t cleared the house for peace and quiet.
He’d cleared it for her.

I longed for family affection and true love all my life. I tried my best to get along with my stepbrother Karen, and wholeheartedly loved his friend Nolan. However, my sincerity was trampled into the mud. They conspired to hurt me, spread indecent content to ruin my life, and even broke the last relic left by my grandmother. I suffered countless humiliations and injuries, then chose to leave without saying goodbye. Years later, the two men were trapped in endless regret, but I had already walked out of the shadow of the past. Trust is gone, and so is my tenderness for them.

My stepsister and I tumbled down the stairs together. As someone with a blood clotting disorder, my spleen ruptured—I was bleeding internally, desperate for surgery to stop it.
But my mother—the renowned chief of surgery—pulled every specialist from the ER. To consult on my stepsister's condition.
All she had was a sprained ankle. Not even a scratch. Yet mom insisted on running every test in the book. And me? Left alone on that cold floor, bleeding out, half my body already soaked in blood.
I clutched at her pants, begging her to save me. But she kicked my hand away and looked at me with pure disgust.
"Lily, are you really so desperate for a man's attention that you'd pull a cheap stunt like this? Your sister's foot is swollen—and you have the nerve to fake your death here?"
In the end, I died alone in a corner of that ignored ER.
But when they wheeled my cold body out of the morgue—and they finally learned about my clotting disorder—
That mother who claimed to hate me completely lost her mind.

Her father paid one hundred million dollars for her bodyguard.

Caesar Montague called the price modest.

He's the man whose codename comes from the operative he killed. They called that one God. They call him Satan.

The one who devours God becomes the Devil.

Elizabeth Williams thinks he's a thug.

Then she watches him throw an assassin out of her fifty-eighth-floor window.

Then she watches the wealthiest man in New York — her father — bow to him.

Then she finally understands:

The man she's been screaming at isn't her bodyguard.

He's the only thing keeping her alive.

I once believed that if I was obedient enough, my birth family would finally love me. Instead, they gave everything to Anna, the fake heiress—my competition spot, my reputation, even my kidney.
Then I opened my eyes and returned to the year it all began.
This time, I won’t beg. I won’t yield. My achievements, my dignity, and my life belong to me.
When everyone called me vicious, Damian Sterling draped his jacket over my shoulders and asked in a low voice, “Am I an outsider?”
I leaned into him and smiled. “Of course not.”
But soon I discovered he was being slowly poisoned—and the culprit might be someone closest to him. Worse, the truth behind my death in my previous life may be darker than I ever imagined…

1

"Why are you avoiding me, Riley?"

Theo gently touched my face, his voice as warm as ever.

Before I could answer, Eliot caught my wrist.

"Because he's afraid you'll discover who he really belongs to."

Then Julian smiled.

"The only question is… which one of us he'll choose."

—

I'm Riley.

A perfectly ordinary Beta—or so everyone believes.

After returning to Saint Vira Academy, my quiet life falls apart overnight.

The man who raised me watches me with eyes that no father should have.

The vampire ancestor who rejected my feelings suddenly refuses to let me go.

The cold Hunter Association president looks at me like I've always belonged to him.

The more I uncover the truth about my strange pheromones and hidden bloodline, the more dangerous they become.

But the greatest secret isn't who I am.

It's why three of the most powerful Alpha men would risk everything...

Just to keep me.

All nobles mocked me for rejecting the talented common mage and picking a brutal gladiator with no magic as my escort. They called him a filthy hound unworthy of serving an Oberlin lady. But only I remember—this scarred man died twice for me in my past life. Reborn before my family’s ruin, I swear bloody vengeance on Cedric and Liliana, who poisoned my father and stripped my skin. I endure searing magic backlash, fight bloody death matches, and burn all traitors alive. The shadow they sneer at will become the indestructible shield of my reign.

Three torturous years hauling bodies on the mortuary night shift, and I'd finally scraped together the cash for my brother Charles's heart transplant.
He just waved it off.
"My heart is fine. Mom and Dad didn't die in that gang war, either. I orchestrated the hit. You were the only casualty."
Nearby, my husband, Gerald, casually lit a cigar to deliver his own confession. "I never went bankrupt. 'Laying low' was just my excuse to avoid squeezing into that dingy funeral home dorm with you. I've been at the Long Island estate."
"I was going to punish you for another three years," Charles added, "but the stench of formaldehyde on you is nauseating. We couldn't take it anymore."
I froze, still clutching the credit card. Charles plucked the plastic from my numb fingers and shoved his phone screen in my face. A banking app stared back at me.
Balance: exactly zero.
"My name is still on the joint account," he sneered, tossing the card into the trash. "I drained it this morning. That blood money you made bagging stiffs is being handed out to street junkies as we speak. We'd never touch that filth."
Before the sheer absurdity of it could suffocate me, my parents walked in. Flanked by bodyguards, they kept their distance, eyeing me like a plague rat.
"You thought being the biological daughter gave you the right to ruthlessly bully Violet. We simply wanted to put you in your place."
"Swear you'll never cross Violet again, and you can remain a Falcone," my mother added coolly. "Otherwise, you're dead to us."
In the stifling silence that followed, my phone buzzed. A text from my oncologist.
[Mrs. Castello, the results are back. It's terminal. Do you consent to initiating the hospice and DNR protocols we discussed?]

I was dead, and the whole world was celebrating for my sister.

For twenty-two years, I had been the hardest-working but most invisible daughter in the Sterling family, forever living in the shadow of my gymnastics prodigy sister.

Running a high fever, I begged my family to take me to the hospital, only to hear: "Don't you DARE ruin Bella's award ceremony!"

When I was tricked into the abandoned equipment room and used my last breath to call my boyfriend while lying in a pool of blood, all I heard was: "Grace, quit the drama! Bella's accepting her award on stage!"

On stage, thunderous applause erupted as Bella lifted the "Young Gymnast of the Year" trophy.

And I drew my final breath.

When they returned home triumphant, thinking I had run away in a tantrum, they had no idea I was already dead right under their noses.

There are no unmated males in our pack.
Every she-wolf in Hollowfen is promised to someone when she turns eighteen. We just don't get to know who until we walk into the Choosing Hall.
Girls go in wearing white. They come out flushed, shaking, barely able to stand. Some laugh. Some cry. None of them talk about what happens inside.
My sister Thessaly turned eighteen this spring. Gran told her she couldn't attend the Choosing.
She went anyway. She came back on shaking legs, with blood between her thighs and a smile she couldn't wipe off her face.

They left me to freeze to death in our basement freezer.

The night before prom, my foster sister Leila came crying that I'd burned her Ivy League recommendation letter. My birth parents didn't even listen to one word of explanation—they threw me into that frozen hell in forty-five below.

I beat on that door until my fingers were shredded, screamed until my throat tore apart, but all I could hear from upstairs was their laughter celebrating Leila. Even Justin—the boy I'd loved since we were kids—texted calling me a fucking psycho.

As I drew my last breath, I heard Leila's soft voice outside the door: "Rest in peace, sister."

Now I'm a ghost, watching them lose their minds when the truth comes out.

When I was rushed to the ER with food poisoning, I heard the doctor shout, "We need to pump her stomach, now!"
But my mother, Catherine, calmly stopped the doctor's hand.
"No hurry," she said coldly. "Give her a sedative first."
My brother Austin panicked. "Mom! If you don't detox her, she could die!"
But my mother's voice was ruthless, low and sharp:
"If she dies, she dies. As long as her uterus is still warm, that's all that matters."
"Did you forget our plan? Sarah's transplant surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. If Elena wakes up now, what if she runs away?"
"Our priority is keeping her uterus safe for Sarah—not saving her life."
In that moment, the burn in my stomach was nothing compared to the chill in my heart.
I forced my eyes open and saw my brother—the one who'd always protected me—hesitate for a moment, then slowly let go of my hand.
"...Okay. You're right, Mom. Saving Sarah comes first."
The moment I closed my eyes, I made a decision: If I survived, this life would never belong to this family again.

Violet loses her parents as a young child and is brought up by an elderly aunt. As she approaches her 17th birthday her life is turned upside down when her Aunt tells her that the life she has built with her must end - she has to go and learn about the background of her father. Secrets have been kept and those secrets turn Violet's life on it's head!

Not only does she have to accept that her father wasn't who she thought he was, but she too, is something she didn't even realise existed! It seems a whole plan had been in place for if something happened to her parents, including learning of her heritage and all it means.
So, Violet is sent to Autumn Moon Pack, where an elderly relative of her father's still lives to give Violet chance to be surrounded by others like her. In truth, she plans to learn what she needs to learn what she needs to and leave to live alone like her father before her.
But will meeting the handsome Beta, who seems quite taken with her, change her mind? And could there be yet more secrets to be revealed?

When my husband's eight-year-old "nephew" Noah was diagnosed with acute leukemia, the whole family begged for my help.

They needed my six-year-old daughter, Molly—the only perfect match.

Against my instincts as a head nurse, I agreed.

But the second Molly's stem cells were harvested, their gratitude vanished.

To avoid paying for my daughter’s mandatory sterile recovery room, Noah's mother live-streamed a crying fit in my lobby, accusing me of medical extortion. My husband, Grant, stood by in utter silence.

Without the isolation bed, my baby girl contracted a severe infection and died. My mother-in-law simply sneered outside the ICU, "Dead is dead. Better than wasting more money."

Three months later, Noah relapses.

Now, my phone is blowing up. The same people who watched my daughter suffocate in her own fluids are desperately begging me to use my hospital registry access to save him again.

Standing by Molly’s tiny headstone, I look down at the confidential DNA report I pulled from the hospital database.

They think I don’t know Noah is actually Grant's illegitimate son. They think I'll just hang up and cry.

Instead, I swipe to answer the call. It's time to make them pay.

While I bled to death locked in a storage room, my fiancé Adrian was holding my sister's hand, comforting her.

He hung up on my final call for help, leaving only a voicemail: "If anything happens to Lena, the engagement is off."

My sister once said her birthday wish had always been for me to disappear.

That night, her wish came true early.

But my soul never left.

I watched everyone gather around her, singing happy birthday.

As she blew out the candles, I whispered in her ear:

"Enjoy it while it lasts. This will be your last birthday."

The day I came home carrying the Royal Pack's highest honor, the one that names its strongest warrior, I pictured Irene's proud smile waiting for me, and Chase's arms wrapping around me.

Then I cross into Crescent Moon Pack territory and the smell hits me. Blood, thick enough to make me gag.

I claw through the scorched wreckage like something possessed, not even noticing my nails tearing, blood running down my fingers.

And then I find her. Irene, the one person who'd ever shown me real kindness, lying in the ash. Not breathing. Gone.

Three scents linger in the air, all of them familiar: Garrett. Ivy. And Chase.

I follow the scent to the lakeside lodge, and that's when I hear Chase, his voice dripping with that same gentle warmth I used to love. "Who cares about Irene, as long as you're happy."

Something in my head just snaps.

"Traitors don't get to live."

Tonight, they're all going to join Irene in death.

Just because I got a B+ in physics, my father slapped me across the face and kicked me while I was down.

"If you worked even half as hard at school as we do at our jobs, you'd have straight A's!"

"Your mom and I kill ourselves every single day, and this is how you repay us?"

To make sure I couldn't argue anymore, they spent a fortune getting their hands on some kind of devil's contract.

Dad sneered: "Once this thing is signed, every hour we work, you have to study. Now that's what I call fair."

Mom nodded along: "No more complaining that we don't understand what you go through."

Looking at their smug, satisfied faces, I didn't argue. I just bit my finger and signed.

Because I knew better than anyone what their "killing ourselves" actually amounted to.

By the time the contract came due, they were on their knees begging me to cancel it.