Chapter An Escape Novels & Stories

Willow Ashford, the secretary of my mate, Alpha Garrett Blackwood, files our marking ceremony application as a mate bond dissolution for the 37th time. I finally can't hold back anymore and storm into Garrett's office, my voice trembling. "Is this what you call a top graduate from the Elite Werewolves Academy? She couldn't even figure out a simple marking ceremony application! "This is the 37th time. If you really don't have time to manage your employees, I can help you fire her." Garrett looks up from his documents, glances at the application records on my phone screen, and sighs. "I told you before, you can't have someone of Willow's caliber doing menial tasks for you. "If you have time to come here and lose your temper at me, you might as well go handle it yourself." But he doesn't know that I just discovered I'm with pup. The doctor warned me to protect the pup and avoid crowds, and the Werewolf Affairs Department is always packed and suffocating. I look at his cold profile, and something deep inside me finally shatters. In that moment, I decide to end it all. But on the day I leave the pack with our pup, leaving him behind, he goes crazy searching for me everywhere.

One week before our marking ceremony, my Alpha Mate, Corey Black, looks me straight in the eye and says something unbelievable, "I want to have a pup with my long-time friend Willow." At first, I assume it's a terrible joke, but I see determination in his serious expression. I suppress the churning feeling in my stomach and ask him why. He sighs, his gaze gentle as if he's soothing an unreasonable child. "Willow's old Beta father is dying. His only dying wish is to see Willow have a pup. We're doing it through IVF, so it won't hurt our relationship. "Her father devoted his entire life to the pack. You wouldn't refuse to fulfill even his dying wish, would you? You wouldn't be that cruel, right?" I don't know how to respond. He speaks as if not letting my fated mate have a pup with another woman is selfish. Later, when I go to visit the gravely ill old Beta, Corey is holding Willow Lester in his arms. His hand gently strokes her hair as he lets her sob against his chest. The moment our eyes meet, pain strikes my very soul. My wolf lets out a desperate howl of anguish. I stumble away, only to receive a text from him on the day of our marking ceremony. "Honey, Willow and I are undergoing the IVF procedure. Let's postpone the ceremony for now." I stare blankly at those words, my hand unconsciously moving to my still-flat stomach. Since he wants so badly to have a pup with another woman, I will grant his wish and disappear with my pup.

The night before our wedding, my Alpha, Charlie, was attacked by rogue wolves on his way to pick up my wedding dress. He survived, but the doctor diagnosed him with severe PTSD and no memory of me. Any mention of our wedding made him collapse. Around the same time, I found out I was pregnant. "Perhaps the child’s arrival might awaken the part of him that truly loves you," the doctor said. I clung to that hope，until I overheard them at the pack training grounds. "Faking PTSD to dodge the wedding? Damn, Charlie, that’s next-level." One of his brothers laughed. "You really pulled it off, man. Playing the tragic Alpha just to shake off that boring little fiancée? Genius." "Shut up!" Charlie snapped, but there was no real anger in his tone. "I love Eve. I’m only lying to her this once. Let me have my fun at The Velvet Bite a little longer, and then I’ll marry her." "Especially her cousin, Lisa," another voice jeered. "Damn, Charlie—a brothel and the fiancée’s family? That’s low, even for you." Charlie chuckled. "You don’t get it. Those women… I can’t live without that feeling. It’s addictive." My hands shook as I tore the ultrasound report into pieces. Without a word, I turned and walked away. That night, at the pack hospital, I made an appointment for an abortion.

"Are you sure you want to change the bride's name to Jasmine Shaw, Quinn?" Quinn Sullivan's voice was resolute. "Yes, I'm sure. Do as I say." She sat in silence for a long time after hanging up. She recalled what she saw after her engagement party. Her fiancé had his arms wrapped around another woman in a swaying car. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, looking like he couldn't bear to leave. Quinn didn't understand. She and Nicholas York had gone through so much to get to marriage. How could he cheat on her? Well, it didn't matter. She was willing to give him her blessings since he was in love with another woman. He could marry someone else, then. She would give him the wedding of his dreams.

I've been pregnant for six months, but my Alpha mate, William, has delayed our mating ceremony 29 times. He's waiting for his adopted sister, Rita, to find a mate so they can have a "two-couple mating ceremony." The 30th time I altered the waist of my beloved mating ceremony dress, the bridal shop assistant looked embarrassed, "Miss, this dress really can't be widened anymore. How about you choose another one?" Disappointment rose in my throat like bile. I called William, asking when the ceremony would finally happen. But William said: "I will give you an unforgettable mating ceremony, but Rita's mate hasn't been matched yet. Darling, can you wait a little longer? We shouldn't ruin her whole life over such a small thing, right? I know you'll understand. You're always so kind." My heart clenched suddenly. So, my dream mating ceremony is just a small thing. Rita's sweet, high-pitched voice chimed in: "Brother, my mating ceremony dress matches yours so perfectly!" That was the moment I realized I was never the one being chosen. I looked down at my round pregnant belly, tears slipping quietly from the corners of my eyes. Then, with a trembling hand, I dialed the number that had always been waiting for me. "I'm ready to leave." After the call ended, the clerk cautiously asked: "Would you like to choose another one?" "No. Just cancel it, please." I took one last glance at the dress that would never belong to me. If this ceremony was never for me, then I won't stay for it.

My boyfriend of three years had a secret true love: my vicious best friend. For her, he swallowed my family business whole, froze every cent I had, and crushed my dignity into the dirt. When my father lay dying from a brain hemorrhage, I begged him for $50,000 to save his life. He refused cold-heartedly. At the exact moment my father died on the operating table, he was busy spending millions on rare jewelry for her. I didn't show up to our engagement party. Instead, I sent a "gift" that played on the big screen. That arrogant man went completely insane in front of the whole world.

How long does it take to give up on a man you've loved for ten years? It takes me 3 seconds. The first second, I signed my name on the contract to become the chief designer of a renowned studio in Paris. The second second, I lock away ten years of my youth in my heart. The third second, I completely prepare to leave Levi's world. My fiancé Levi is the heir of the Smith Group, the absolute aristocracy. For others, he is untouchable. But for me, he's the childhood sweetheart who, with a crooked paper ring he made himself for the first time in his hand, told me, "You're the only girl I'll ever marry, even if I have to wait a hundred years." From that moment on, the only person I wanted to marry was Levi, and I never doubted that I would eventually marry Levi. But on the day of our engagement, he disappeared. I waited for a whole year, waiting for a message, a phone call, or a knock on the door, but nothing came. Later, he finally appeared. He stood next to a red Ferrari, holding flowers, and said that he still loved me, that he wasn't ready before, and begged me to give him another chance. I almost believed him. But at the same time, I received a provocative message from Levi's first love, Ruby: [Aren't you curious where he went during the time he eloped from your engagement? I'm already pregnant with Levi's child, and he loves kissing my pregnant belly the most.] I wiped away my tears, turned around, and applied to study in the Sorbonne University Faculty of Medicine, leaving only one sentence: "Levi, we're breaking up." Learning that I was leaving, Levi went crazy. He braved the heavy rain and blocked the entrance to my new place, his eyes red, asking me: "Stella, if I make Ruby abort the child, can you come back to me?"

I'm the type who has the urge to overshare my life with him. It can be anything, be it the flowers blooming by the side of the road, the unpleasant coffee I end up having, or the sunset I've seen when I'm on my way home from work. Heck, when I think of Edwin Howell all of a sudden, I can't resist texting him at all. His replies are always short and perfunctory, though I suppose they count as a form of response from him. Hence, over the past six months, I've relied on these cold-sounding yet present replies to give me enough strength to deal with the engagement party, go wedding gown shopping, and choose the wedding venue all by myself. Somehow, I've managed to hang in there till the week before the wedding. But five days before the wedding, I discover an AI program that's installed within Edwin's computer. It can categorize every single sentence that I've sent to Edwin and extract the keywords. Then, it'll draft the most perfunctory responses that will never go wrong. If I miss Edwin, the AI will reply, "Mm-hmm." If I feel aggrieved, the AI will reply, "Got it." When I try to vent my frustrations to Edwin, the AI will reply, "Don't make such a big deal out of it." It turns out that Edwin isn't the one who has been responding to my need to overshare. The thing is, he has been texting another woman nonstop in another private chat. They talk about anything and everything under the sun, from exchanging simple good mornings and good nights to asking, "What are you having for lunch today?" and "Do you wanna go to the beach someday?" Finally, I realize that Edwin isn't the silent type who keeps his love in. If anything, he's the flashy type who will proclaim his love anywhere, anytime. It's just that… his love has never been mine to have. As for me, I've finally made up my mind to stop spending my life waiting for a response that will never come.

Just before my wedding, my fate mate, my Alpha fiancé, Micheal, stripped me of my wedding dress—our wedding dress—and handed it to his mistress, Becky Porter. Not only that, but he locked me in the dressing room like some rabid wolf he needed to contain. "Becky has a terminal illness.She just wants to experience being a bride before she dies." I lunged forward, my wolf howling inside me. Alpha's strength pressed against mine, his dominance forcing my muscles to lock. My claws twitched, itching to break free. "You bastard!" I snarled, my breath ragged. Micheal barely blinked. Instead, he let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head . "She’s dying, and you can’t even show a little compassion?" His tone dripped with disappointment, as if I were the villain here. "You’re only losing a wedding, but Becky… Becky is losing her dreams and her life."

Noah left me at the altar three times—for his precious Freya. First time? She threatened to jump off a building. Second? Said she was moving abroad. Third? Sent a text saying she was getting forced into some arranged marriage. Noah, usually Mr. Cool, freaked. Left a packed venue and turned me into a total joke. Again. I called him. "If you don't come back today, I'm marrying someone else." He laughed. "Freya's young. You're too old to be playing games, aren't you?" I clutched my phone, heart sinking. He knew Freya was bluffing. Still picked her. That's when I finally gave up. Later, after he'd calmed her down, he came looking for me. "Pick a new wedding date," he said, like it was no big deal. "It'll be even grander this time." A guy's voice cut through, smiling. "Sorry, man. Gotta get my wife on the plane."