19th Century Horror Novels 소설 & 이야기

I get approached for legal representation by my ex-boyfriend, Dante Romano, once I become the most prominent lawyer in the country. I am Dante's secret lover—the woman he could never openly claim—four years ago. I am unable to reveal our relationship, receive a ring, and am forbidden from ever setting foot inside the Romano Famiglia estate. It is because of the century-old tradition governing the Romano Famiglia—only a woman who rolls a 20 on the 20-sided gold die 20 consecutive times can become the Donna of the Romano Famiglia. I try countless times over the course of four years, yet every single roll lands on a "one". I eventually become the laughingstock of the entire eastern side of the country, with them claiming I don't have what it takes to become the Donna. However, the return of my foster sister, Sofia Conti, changes everything. She casually tosses the die and rolls a "20" 20 times in a row, securing her engagement to Dante that same night. It is only later that Dante confesses to me. "I tampered with your golden die so that it would always land on a 'one,' Elena. Sofia comes from an ordinary background and needs a legendary story to earn her place in this world. You understand why I did it, right?" It turns out that four years of my humility, struggles, and being a laughingstock are nothing more than a stepping stone he paves for another woman. I leave Kingsbay and head to Ravenport alone while they celebrate their wedding of the century, starting from scratch as a low-level intern. Four years later, I eventually become a legendary lawyer with an undefeated record. Dante suddenly arrives at my office to plead his case, pushing a half-million-dollar check toward me while saying, "You're the only one who can win this, Elena." I look at him and smile faintly. I then pull open a drawer and place the same 20-sided gold die from years ago right in front of him. "I'll represent you as long as you roll a '20' 20 times in a row."

I have known since childhood that I was destined to marry Kaden, the Alpha heir of the Moonstone pack. As the only one with the Moon-Blessed bloodline, I am the only person capable of breaking the curse that has haunted the Moonstone Alpha lineage for generations. A century ago, the Moonstone ancestor publicly insulted a fallen female Alpha during her funeral. He mocked her, saying, "She’s just a she-wolf. Why such an extravagant funeral? How could a woman ever protect our kind? She probably slept her way to the top." Goddess Selene was enraged. She cast a perpetual curse: every direct Alpha heir of the Moonstone pack would develop female traits on their eighteenth birthday, regressing into a lowly Omega. Only by mating with a Moon-Blessed wolf can the curse be lifted. I had been in love with Kaden for years and wanted nothing more than to save him. Maya claimed she also possessed the Moon-Blessed bloodline. Kaden tried to marry her, but I exposed her lie and stopped him. Forced by his parents, Kaden finally made me his Luna. After he marked me, Kaden didn’t regress into an Omega, but he didn't awaken his Alpha King bloodline either. That same night, a heartbroken Maya went for a walk in the woods alone, where she was cornered by a group of rogues and torn to pieces. My parents and Kaden hated me for it. They claimed I was a fraud whose bloodline was impure, which was why Kaden never truly ascended. They were convinced Maya was the real Moon-Blessed one. They believed my jealousy and lies had killed her and robbed Kaden of his chance to become the Alpha King. On a night of the full moon, Kaden tore my throat out in front of the entire pack. He tossed my body into a silver pool to let it corrode. The last thing I heard was his roar: "You lying bitch! Maya’s death is on your hands!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Kaden arrived at the Silver Moon pack to propose.

I had always been obedient and compliant. I never dared to disobey others' instructions. The day my wealthy biological parents brought me home, my adoptive brother leaned close to my ear and sneered arrogantly, "The position of the Spencer family's heir belongs to me. If you know what's good for you, get lost on your own." I nodded obediently. Then I turned around and threw myself straight into rush-hour traffic on the highway. My parents nearly lost their minds. Panicked and trembling, they dragged me back into the car, their faces drained white with terror. My sister's expression darkened as she warned me coldly in my ear, "If you pull another stunt for attention, believe me, I'll throw you right back into the doghouse you came from." I obediently listened. That very night, I locked myself inside a dog crate. My sister froze in complete shock. Gritting her teeth, she yanked me out, staring at me like she'd seen a ghost. Later, when my adoptive brother pretended to be sick, my sister forced me to donate blood for him. I obediently took the knife. Without the slightest hesitation, I slashed straight through the artery in my wrist. By the time my parents rushed over, blood had just begun spraying out. They screamed in horror and lunged forward to press against my wound. "Somebody call 911! Now!!!" My sister had gone just as pale. After a long moment of stunned silence, she finally stammered, "Mom, Dad… I only told him to donate a little blood to Eric. I never told him to slit his wrist…" I blinked. My sister wasn't lying. She really hadn't taught me that. It was something the traffickers taught me during the five years my family personally handed me over to them—to "learn obedience."

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

“I Thalia Rose Laurel reject you, Alpha of Flame Valley Pack Knox Winslow.” I cry out, breaking the bond that never should have been. Ryan's eyes flash with horror, his gaze flickering between Knox and I. “Thalia no.” “Yes.” I blink through my tears. “Let me do what he didn't have the guts to do five years ago, what I should have done to us the moment he slammed my head into a wall while I was grieving my daughter!” “I'm sorry, Thalia.” Knox grabs my hand, but I can't stand to be touched by him. “Don't do this to us, to our-” “Let me end this Knox.” I choke out and it's the saddest plea I've ever uttered. “I started this obsessive diminishhing game between us so it's right I be the one to end it. Accept my rejection.” His head shakes, watching me with teary eyes. “I love you.” Knox won't let me go, but I'm ready to let him go, to let us go and so I do the one thing I can.... .………….. Thalia and Knox have had a rocky start to their relationship, and with Knox bullying wolfless Thalia when he knew she was his mate under the guise of oblivion. Knox falls for Thalia and she him but both know she doesn't meet the standard of what he wants in a mate and Luna, the two try to make their relationship work but Knox falls prey to his previous playboy lifestyle multiple times, hurting Thalia and ruining the little that's left of their relationship. Thalia's need to appear strong, and worthy of Flame Valley lands her in trouble, birthing the core reason for the major drift I'n their relationship. Their love is strong but can it overcome the deceptions and conspiracies that surround Them?

Two souls, forged in suffering, would collide in a dance of darkness and desire, testing the limits of love and redemption. Their paths meet when Asher's sister becomes the target of a predator, and Kaidën sees an opportunity for justice. As they navigate their dark worlds, they must confront the demons that haunt them. Will Asher's desire for protection and Kaidën's quest for vengeance spark a twisted romance, or will their shattered reflections destroy them? *** “You killed my mother.” Asher's voice trembled with fury. Kaidën's smile was cold, almost mirthful. “Who gave your sister to her husband who sold her to pay off his debts.” “I watched you murder her in cold blood!” Asher’s fists clenched around the gun he held pointed at the killer, memories of that night flooding back. Kaidën leaned closer, a sinister smile creeping onto his face. "I remember begging you to look away. But you didn’t. Did you enjoy it, Asher? Watching the woman who shattered your world writhe in agony? Or would you prefer to keep that little secret buried deep? Ah, but don’t answer that. Come, help me gather the pieces of your father's remains. It’s time to tidy up this little mess." Asher’s eyes widened in horror, realization crashing over him like a wave. All this time, he had been unaware that he was not only a witness to his father’s murder, but had watched it unfold until the very end, just like he had done that night when he watched his mother’s murder. Nodding, he picked up the severed hand of his father—the same hand that had beaten and broken him until his skin grew numb to pain. ‘Oh, sweet Emily, if only you could see our father now. How the mighty have fallen.’

On Independence Day, I was on my way to my boyfriend's house when a car slammed into me. The stretch of road was deserted. The collision jammed my door shut, and the acrid smell of gasoline filled the air. My car was about to explode. I scrambled for the emergency hammer, only to find it had been swapped out for a pink toy mallet. Panic rising in my chest, I dialed my boyfriend's number. To my horror, his ringtone sounded from the very car that had crashed into me. He stepped out, arm wrapped around his childhood sweetheart. She put on a pitiful face, tears in her eyes. "Oh no, I'm so clumsy. It's my first time driving, and I hit someone." When my boyfriend realized the victim was me, he didn't hesitate to console her. "Don't worry. She must have collided with you on purpose." I pounded on the window, desperate. "Nick! The emergency hammer's been switched out. Help me get out of here!" His childhood sweetheart lit up with a mischievous smile. "Katie, I swapped it! Isn't the pink hammer super cute?" Disgust flickered across Nick's face. "It's just a little crash. Get out on your own." By now, thick smoke was pouring into the car, and the heat was searing my lungs. I begged him to save me. But the girl only giggled, covering her nose in mock annoyance. "Katie, why are you cooking in there? The smoke is awful." Then she patted her stomach. "Oops, my tummy is rumbling. Nick, let's go home and eat." He tightened his hold around her and turned to leave. "Enough already. Stop pretending. My parents are waiting for us at home." Just as suffocation closed in on me, I slammed my hand against the car's emergency distress button.

Saira was once a cheerful girl, but her life drastically changed after the devastating loss of her father. Her high school years were filled with torment, as she was relentlessly bullied by a cruel classmate who made her life miserable. When she finally graduated, she felt relief, believing that chapter of her life was over. However, after graduation, she faced another struggle, landing a terrible job where her life only seemed to get harder. Her world turned upside down again when her mother announced her marriage to a new husband and introduced her to their new family. To Saira’s horror, her new stepbrother was none other than her former high school bully—the very person she thought she’d never have to see again. Shocked and heartbroken, she dreaded what was to come. Things got even worse when she learned she would be working as his secretary. Despite her fears of facing torment once more, Saira was surprised by her stepbrother’s behavior. He had completely changed. Instead of bullying her, he was now protecting her—saving her from workplace issues, standing up for her, and being supportive in ways she never imagined. The boy who once hurt her deeply had transformed into a man who treated her with care and respect. Saira’s heart began to waver. The crush she once had on him returned, and she couldn’t deny that his changes captivated her. But forgiving him wasn’t easy. The scars of the past still lingered. Conflicted, Saira confronted him, demanding answers, accusing him of playing tricks on her. In response, he begged for her forgiveness, admitting his regret and pleading for a chance to make things right. Saira must decide whether she can trust him again—or whether the pain of the past is too much to overcome.

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,