Devotion Words Novels & Stories

My husband, the Don, never acknowledged me as anything more than his political bride. From the day we married, I knew there was someone else in his heart, a woman from the slums named Elena. But for the sake of my family's honor, and for that small, pathetic scrap of love I still held onto, I endured everything in silence. Until two months ago. He came home drunk and reckless and lost all control. He kicked open my bedroom door and took me like a man possessed, and the whole time, the name he breathed into my ear wasn't mine. It was hers. But that night left something behind. I was pregnant. I thought maybe this child could be the thing that finally turned us around. So I walked to his study door, pregnancy report in hand, heart full of something dangerously close to hope. That's when I heard his voice through the door, soft and tender, speaking in a tone I had never once heard him use with me. "Don't worry, Elena. Once you have the baby, I'll bring him into the family personally. He'll be the only heir I recognize. As for Jessica..." His voice turned cold and contemptuous. "She'll never have children. For the past seven years, I've had someone slip the highest dose of birth control into the warm milk she drinks every night before bed. She's nothing but a political arrangement. Why would I let her carry my bloodline?" The door opened. He stepped out and saw me standing there, frozen. He assumed I'd do what I always did, scream and cry and demand answers. He had no idea this time was different. This time, I was really leaving.

I made a deal with the Devil. My soul, in exchange for seven days on earth after I died. The eleventh hour after my death happened to fall on our third wedding anniversary. The moment I walked through the door, he had just come home from another woman's place. He had an anniversary gift waiting for me. A set of sapphires. But the card tucked beside them bore another woman's name. I spotted a pale lavender hair tie in his hand. Once, I would have fought him over a hair tie like that, all the way from the front hall to the study. This time, I said nothing. It was him who froze instead, staring at me like I was a stranger. "You didn't used to be like this. I almost miss the way you used to fall apart over everything." He was right. The old me would have thrown a fit over something as small as him forgetting to cut my steak. But ever since the miscarriage, my heart had been dying by slow degrees. When I found out I was pregnant, I was overjoyed. I wanted him to be the first to know. But I couldn't reach him, no matter how many times I called. I lost the baby. I hemorrhaged. That very afternoon, while I lay on the operating table, a photo of him and that woman hit the entertainment headlines. He never even knew I had carried a child. Now there was only one last thing I wanted from him. To drive me up to the northern coast, and bury me with his own hands. But when he realized I had truly vanished from this world, he came undone.

Freya Stein was reborn to the day when she had to choose a fiancé. In her past life, she had chosen the high and mighty scion of the Haretts, but Magnus Harett turned out to be a cold and unapproachable man. On the day of their wedding, he lost his mind and ended up driving the car off the cliff while they were heading to the venue. She ended up becoming disabled because of it, while he became paralyzed. Despite all that, she pushed herself to the limit and took care of him for the rest of his life. As she was drawing her last breath, he regarded her icily and refused to save her. “A nasty woman like her has no right to live. It’s time she goes to hell for what she has done to Ifrit.” It was only then that she found out that Magnus had resented her all along because of what happened to the housemaid's daughter who committed suicide in their room. Now that Freya had been given a second chance, she decided she would choose another man to fulfill his wish. However, Magnus turned rabid on the day of her wedding. He showed up and wanted to stop her from marrying another man.

Samson Carroll's father, who is the CEO of Carroll Group, is hospitalized, and my sister decides to return to the hospital to work as a nurse. She throws herself into the role—donating blood, helping with emergencies, and keeping watch at his bedside around the clock. Soon, everyone's calling her a hero in scrubs. One night, she blocks the hospital room's security camera. She plans to kill the patient and forge a will so that Samson will marry her. I tell her it's too dangerous. The Carrolls are an influential family with deep pockets and powerful connections, after all. A few kind words and a forged will aren't enough to sway them. But she lashes out at me, calling me an idiot. She says that everyone in Jansbury knows Samson does whatever his father tells him to do. I drag her home, still trying to talk sense into her. "The Carroll family has ties to both the authorities and the underworld. They're untouchable," I explain. "If Samson finds out you lied to him, the consequences are unimaginable." Halfway home, she grows increasingly agitated. "Tonight was my only chance, and you ruined it! You're just jealous I'm about to become a rich man's wife! Go to hell!" Then, in a fit of rage, she shoves me into an open manhole by the side of the road. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the night I brought her dinner at the hospital.

My father was the God-King, and he loved my mortal mother with all his heart. To help her adapt to life in the divine realm, he even infused his own blood into her, granting her eternal youth and elevating her to the rank of a goddess. Defying the unanimous opposition of all gods, he built a resplendent palace solely for her here in the divine realm, making her the happiest woman across all heavens. Yet he never loved me — his first child, born of him and my mother. As time went by, he visited my mother less and less frequently. Eventually, I passed away. Mother begged him to seek justice for me, but he only replied indifferently, "We shall have many more children." His words crushed every last glimmer of hope in her heart. Mother grew utterly disillusioned with him, and resolved to avenge me with her own hands. The God-King’s patience toward her dwindled day by day. It was as if I had been born bearing nothing but misfortune. To avenge my wrongful death, Mother cast aside everything she once held dear. When she finally turned her back and left the divine realm forever, that aloof, domineering God-King went mad. He chased after her, begging desperately for her to return.

The first thing I did after rebirth was follow my husband, Franklin Wallace, to the island for his military deployment. In my previous life, as a spoiled rich heiress from a wealthy family, I looked down on Franklin, the commander my family had arranged for me to marry. We fought constantly, huge arguments every few days, small quarrels in between. After having children, I grew to resent our two kids simply because they carried Franklin's blood. Later, when Franklin was ordered to be stationed on the island, I was the first to stand up and object to going with him. Since I opposed it, Franklin did not force me. He took our two kids and his widowed sister-in-law, Elsie Faulkner, to the island instead. Meanwhile, my spoiled and rebellious self could not wait to throw myself into the arms of my first love, Reuben Sandoval, once Franklin left. However, it did not take long before I discovered Reuben was nothing but a gold-digging scumbag who only wanted my money and body. He gave me an STI and drained my family fortune completely. When Franklin returned from the island with our children, they no longer recognized me as their mother and affectionately called Elsie "Mommy" instead. He even told me he had fallen in love with Elsie during their time together on the island. Eventually, I ended up homeless on the streets and starved to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Franklin was about to leave for his island deployment.

Everyone said I was Domenico Calvetti's most obedient woman. On our first wedding anniversary, he flirted with a pair of twins at the gambling table. He had lipstick smeared all over his shirt. I smiled and wiped it away with a silk handkerchief, but he swatted my hand aside. "Don't kill the mood." In the third year, the star performer from the club he ran showed up at my door with a gun pressed to my temple, demanding to take my place. Without flinching, I disarmed her using the technique he taught me and disposed of the body myself. Behind me, he held his new lover and laughed softly. "Lucia, you always know what to do." In the fifth year, he blew up the library my father left behind just to make his new flame, Marilena Rossetti, smile. That library was my mother's favorite spot when she was alive, and it held the only photographs of our family of three. The explosion made me the laughingstock of the city. People whispered, "Signora Calvetti can't even protect her own memories." Everyone believed I could never leave the Calvetti family or Domenico, but they forgot how this all started. Back then, he rescued me from my adoptive father and fell in love with me at first sight. He knelt and begged to marry me, swearing he would protect me from blood and pain for the rest of my life. For ten years, I held onto those empty words. At our tenth anniversary party, his hundredth mistress arrived. Alice Russo, fresh out of college, held a glass of red wine and poured it down my gown while Domenico watched. "Signora Calvetti, this dress is so old. Given your position, you should be wearing something better." Everyone at the party waited to see my humiliation. Instead, I lowered my eyes and dialed Domenico's father's number. "Father, the ten-year agreement is over. I won't be Signora Calvetti anymore."

When I was seven years old, my younger brother went into anaphylactic shock after sneaking a handful of peanuts. Outside the emergency room, my mother slammed my head against the wall over and over, her face twisted with rage. "If you had been watching him like you were supposed to be, this never would have happened! You should be the one with a ruptured stomach, not him!" After that, whenever my brother so much as caught a cold, my mother forced me to eat spoiled leftovers as punishment. I once prepared an elaborate feast. She flipped the entire table and made me crawl on the floor to lick it clean. When I said I wanted to study culinary arts, she poured hot oil over my hands. My father wanted to send me to vocational school to learn a trade, but my mother clutched my brother to her chest and wailed. "She destroyed her brother's health! She owes him a lifetime of service!" When I was fifteen, my brother's gluttony cost my father an important business deal. I took the blame without even being asked, and the furious client forced me to drink more than half a gallon of hard liquor. By the time I was sent home with a bleeding stomach, my father had already scolded my brother. My mother took out her anger on me instead, slapping me so hard my ears rang and my vision went dark at the edges. "You useless thing! You should’ve choked to death at that table! I get sick just looking at you!" I coughed up black blood. From my pocket, I pulled out a piece of sour candy that had gone soft and sticky. It was the only treat my mother had ever given me with a smile, back before my brother's allergic reaction. I put the candy in my mouth and swallowed it down with the taste of stomach acid. The candy was so sour it made my throat burn. Whatever came next, I just hoped I would not have to be my family’s garbage disposal again.

In the empty villa, Celia Quinn sat motionless on the sofa. It wasn't until much later that the villa's front door swung open, and Lucas Shaw stepped inside. His gaze paused briefly on her, then his expression turned cold. "Yvonne is running a fever today. Why did you keep calling me?"

Johanna Thorne and her sister, Allison Thorne, marry into the Silverplume family, the most prestigious werewolf family in the Northern Wolflands, on the same day. Their husbands are the only pair of pureblood Alpha twins in the family—Carlin Silverplume and Uriel Silverplume. Throughout the continent's long history, fewer than ten such twin pairs have ever been born. They are seen as blessings from the Moon Goddess herself, a source of pride for the entire family. Johanna is wed to the calm and stoic younger brother, Carlin. Her sister becomes the mate of the elder twin, Uriel, the family's strongest warrior Alpha. But during a mission to hunt down rebel wolves, Uriel is tragically killed. His body is never recovered. With his death, his bloodline ends. The news devastates the matriarch. She weeps before the altar, crying that this is punishment for the Silverplume family. With Uriel gone and no heir left behind, one of the family's two remaining pureblood lines is now severed. The future of their legacy hangs by a thread. Three days later, the matriarch summons Carlin and Johanna to the council hall. Before the gathered elders and priests, she solemnly proposes a solution. "Carlin shares the same blood and bone as Uriel... In the name of our ancestral spirits, I ask that Carlin form a breeding pact with Allison to fulfill Uriel's unfinished duty." Johanna's hands clench tightly. She turns to look at Carlin. In that moment, she doesn't know whether she's still his Luna or just a sacrifice offered up to preserve the family's bloodline.