Obsessive Novels & Stories

My mate Jackson died saving me in the great fire. I couldn't accept the truth that he was gone, so I decided to end my life by jumping into the silver pit. But the Alpha David saved me—twice—while making his rounds among the soldiers. He stayed by my side, comforting me, afraid I might try to take my life again. Slowly, I began to accept the idea of being claimed by him. But then, at his birthday party, I overheard something that shattered me. "I want to claim her as my Luna," he said, "but I still can't compete with her deceased mate, even after being with her for three years. She always pulls away when I get close, and I give up each time because I don't want to force her. But if she were to die for me... my wolf would be overjoyed—he would finally have found his fated mate, someone willing to die for him." I was stunned—especially by the plan he revealed next. So, before he could put it into action, I decided to fake my own death. That day, dressed in a wedding gown, I walked into the sea right in front of him. Later, I heard he went mad, deploying every soldier he could to search for me. But when all efforts failed, he was left alone, kneeling by the shore, sobbing like a broken mate— the sea answering him with only silence.

After three years of relentless pursuit, I finally won over Logan—a guy who had never shown the slightest interest in women—and he cherished me like I was his entire world. On the eve of our wedding, I accidentally overheard one of his friends teasing him, "Logan, are you really ready to step into the grave of marriage for Bella? And what about Joann? She's chased you for so many years. Don't you feel anything for her?" Logan's voice was cold. "If we hadn't grown up together, I wouldn't even want to see Joann's face. She could never compare to Bella, ever." So, I held onto dreams for our future, and I married him. Two years later, at our daughter's hundred-day celebration, Joann came to me in tears, claiming her baby had leukemia—and that only my daughter could save her baby. Logan's eyes reddened instantly, and without hesitation, he sent our daughter into the operating room to have her blood drawn. I struggled in the bodyguards' grip desperately, crying and pleading, "Logan, Lily is still so little. She can't take this. She'll die! Please, use the cord blood I stored for her. I'm begging you, let her go." He kicked me aside. "It's just a bit of blood. Joann's baby is dying, and you're still this selfish? Get out!" When the surgery was over, he tossed a divorce agreement at me. "Joann's child is mine. I have to give them both a name, and I'm taking her abroad for treatment." I stared at my silent, motionless daughter in the operating room, my heart turning to ash. "Fine." Six years later, Logan saw me in a baby store, holding the hand of my five-year-old son. Logan reached out with a pained look, trying to pick him up. "Why did you cut Lily's hair so short? She looks like a boy. What were you thinking?"

A business trip took an unexpected turn when our plane ran into disaster. While everyone else was penning their last words, I, an orphan with nothing to lose, decided to have a little fun with my miserly boss. “Boss, let’s keep this short—I like you.” “I really, really like you.” “Boss, this is a final goodbye.” Just when all hope seemed lost, the captain pulled off a miracle with his years of experience, saving us from the brink of catastrophe. By the time we landed safely, I was still in a daze until I saw my boss, eyes bloodshot, storming toward me, flanked by a wall of black-suited bodyguards.

My husband, Francis Zouche, thought we weren't well-off and could not afford to raise a child. So, he forcibly took me to the hospital to get an abortion. Right after the surgery, I discovered that he had transfered 200 thousand dollars to his first love, Heidi Colman, for her birthday. Out of pure rage, I got into a huge fight with him in the car, which led to an accident that killed us both. When I opened my eyes, we had returned to the day before our wedding. In our previous life, we were married for ten years. We weathered storms and supported each other, but Francis never wanted us to have a child of our own. On the day I died, I finally understood that the one he loved was Heidi. After getting a second shot at life, I decided to fulfill his wish. We canceled the wedding, blocked each other's phone numbers, and never contacted each other again. Eight years later, Francis became a top lawyer in Alvren and publicly proposed to Heidi at a law forum. Seeing that I was still single, he mocked me with a sneer, "Yvette, I know you loved me for two lifetimes. But I am getting married now. Don't keep waiting for me to come back to you." I glanced at him wordlessly and bent down to pick up my daughter before walking away. As a shocking realization hit him, his eyes reddened. He questioned furiously, "Didn't you promise to love me forever and to only give birth to my children?"

After the great war between the three clans of Human, Dragon, and Wolf, the Dragon Clan and Wolf Clan were cursed. Pure-blooded descendants of both clans could not inherit full power. To pass down the power of their bloodline, Kings of each generation of Dragon Clan and Wolf Clan would need to be with a Human woman who possessed Blessings. Whoever gave birth to a child of mixed heritage first would have their clan rule the three clans for a hundred years. In my past life, I married the King of Silver Wolves, Silas Hector, who was known to be a gentleman. One year after my marriage, I gave birth to a child who was half Wolf. He inherited full power from his bloodline, and Silas became the ruler of the three clans. The Wolves ruled the world for a hundred years. My sister, Lucia, became enamored by the magnificent Silver Dragon. She married the King of Silver Dragons, but the Dragons were arrogant and unpredictable. In a moment of mad rage, her husband injured her womb and caused her to miscarry. Lucia became barren after that. Lucia went crazy with jealousy for me, and she stabbed me to death during a family reunion. When I opened my eyes next, I had returned to the eve of the wedding organized by the three clans. Lucia was quick to enter the room of Silver Wolf King, Silas, and sleep with him. She was reborn too. However, she had no idea that Silas was a cold-blooded wolf who enjoyed torturing weak Humans.

I had fallen in love with my father’s friend—the man I was supposed to call “uncle,” Kael Viremont. For a while, I thought he loved me too. We even had this silly little promise—that if I turned twenty-seven and still want to be with him, then we could be together, publicly. Five days before my twenty-seventh birthday, I overheard him saying he’d never liked me. That he was going to marry his childhood sweetheart. And as if that wasn’t cruel enough, he was planning to use the wedding to cut me off for good. So I did the one thing I should’ve done a long time ago—accepted that he and I would never belong to the same world… and disappeared from his life for good.

Sated from their passionate deed, Jonathan Sheffield rises and gently scoops the worn-out Eloise Carter into his arms. He cleans her in the bathroom, carries her back to bed, and lets her settle in. Normally, Eloise will have fallen asleep by now. But she won't allow herself to doze off tonight, not before she takes out the birthday present she's carefully prepared for Jonathan. Jonathan is making a phone call out on the balcony when Eloise quietly takes out the present she has hidden. It's a red velvet box, containing the ring she plans to give him when she proposes. She inches closer to the balcony and is about to speak when she freezes. A shocked, male voice rings out from the other end of Jonathan's phone, which he's casually left on the balcony ledge. "What the hell? You must be out of your mind, Jonathan! You're planning to take Eloise's heart and give it to Sonia?"

When I was born, I was already a certified liar. That's a fact that everyone seems to agree with. The truth is, my mom, who's a scientist, has implanted advanced chips into me and my fraternal twin brother, Ryan Hartwell, when we were still babies. By right, as long as we lie or make mistakes, our mom will receive the devil signal from the chips. Then, she'll administer electrical shocks as a form of punishment. Ryan's chip often transmits the smiley signal. Even if he destroys our mom's research equipment and pins the blame on me, his chip still has the smiley branded on it. Meanwhile, when I reach home ten minutes later than usual because I had to help out a classmate, my chip transmits the scary devil signal. The next thing I know, I've already crippled to the floor from the intense pain caused by the electrical shock. At first, I'll still explain to Mom what happened. But she often exclaims, "Don't think you can pull off clever little tricks just like that gambling father of yours! The chip is ten thousands times smarter than you! The punishments will only be branded into your bones if the pain is searing enough! What I'm doing is saving your life!" After suffering from the pain countless times, I get brainwashed into thinking that I really am a liar and a troublemaker by nature. On the night of Christmas Eve, Mom comes to the attic to tell Ryan to join the family at the table for the Christmas dinner. That's when my asthma suddenly acts up, causing me to stumble and fall to the floor. "I… I can't breathe… Save me, Mom…" But Mom just coldly gazes at the devil signal that she has just received on her phone. Then, she dials the shock value to the maximum. "You don't have asthma at all! Ugh, you're kicking up another fuss just to attract attention! Seriously, you never change your ways!" After that, she takes Ryan's hand and leads him out of the attic. Soon, she slams the door heavily behind her. As I suffer from asphyxiation while on my deathbed, I can't help but think that Mom is right. After all, my chip has just transmitted the devil signal. Maybe the asthma attack really is just a figment of my imagination. I've always been a bad girl who loves lying to others, after all. When Mom finds out that this is the last time I've ever lied to her, she must be really happy, right?

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

The day before our wedding, I received an expensive suit from my wife. Not long after, her young lover called me, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry. It was my fault. My bad for mixing up your size. Please… please don't blame Sylvie." On the other end, I could hear Sylvie soothing him gently, patiently, until he calmed down. I stared at the plane ticket in my hand—a one-way trip out of the country—and calmly asked her for a divorce. Then, as if I no longer mattered, she left me with a single, cold sentence. "Just don't regret it."