Every Word You Never Said Novels & Stories

When my fiancee, Gwen Blanchard, insists on giving birth to a child belonging to her ex-boyfriend of many years, Keith Davila, everyone can't wait to see me object to her decision. But now, Gwen's child is officially one month old, and yet I've never kicked up a ruckus about the whole incident. Instead, I focus on preparing my wedding. Thinking that I've finally accepted my position as her caretaker, Gwen decides to show me sympathy, though she does so in a smug manner. "Since you've already learned your place, I shall attend the wedding and let you become my baby's father in name. I'm giving you a chance to take care of the baby and me." But Gwen seems to be overthinking it. I've only mentioned that I'm going to hold a wedding, but I've never said anything about wanting to marry her at all.

Klaus Oakluster has nothing left to sell except the one thing his body was made to offer. At twenty-three, he is malnourished, hunted by loan sharks, and entirely out of options. Renting his womb was never the dream. It was the only door still open. Norman Cross has five companies, a mansion, and a life most people would envy. What he does not have is a family. When he walks into Hope Clinic and opens a folder of surrogacy applicants, he stops at the very first page and never turns it. Something about a pink-haired Omega with chubby cheeks and desperate eyes tells his wolf that the search is already over. The contract was supposed to be simple. Clinical. Temporary. But forced proximity, shared mornings, and a scent that feels like home have a way of rewriting agreements that were never built to hold real feelings. When a fabricated betrayal tears them apart and a dangerous enemy threatens everything Klaus has left, Norman must decide whether protecting his pride is worth losing the person who turned his empty house into something worth coming home to.

When two broken hearts meet, they find their missing part in each other. Two people carrying different tragic stories met each other by fate. One who wants to cage herself in her memories, and the other one who wants to be free and bury his memories. What happens when fate starts to play with them? In a midst of chaos, Cassidy Amber found herself captivated through the beat of his drums. With every beat and every thump; she follows its rhythm. Together, they synchronized with each creating a song from their heartbeats.

In the two years after Bradley Vaughn's so-called "memory loss," we divorced seven times—all to keep his childhood crush Vivian Monroe happy. Number eight? Because Vivian got pregnant. "You can't have kids anyway. Once Vivian has the baby, we'll get back together. You can raise the kid." That was his usual ice-cold line as he slid the papers across the table. That night, he kicked me out—said Vivian got nauseous just seeing me. I moved into another house. Alone. In the rain. Even after I landed in the ER from a near assault, he didn't bother asking if I was okay. Then one day, I spotted him at a clinic with Vivian. He rubbed her belly and laughed, "So what if she finds out I faked the amnesia? She can't live without me. Toss her a bone, she'll come crawling." I looked away, steady. Then my phone buzzed. [How did your checkup go?]

As Cain Knight's mate, I watched him lead Elias Sinclair, his childhood sweetheart, onto the stage at the Black Moon Pack's annual charity gala. "In recognition of Miss Sinclair's outstanding contributions to our community," Cain announced, his voice a glacial shard as his eyes found me, "I have decided to grant her the title of this year's 'Charity Ambassador.'" An honor that had, for years, been bestowed upon the Luna by her Alpha. He shattered tradition just to humiliate me. Under the pitying gazes of the entire pack, I did not cry. I did not question him. I simply straightened my spine, set down my champagne flute, and silently turned to leave. "Let her go," I heard Cain sneer behind me. "She won't last half the night. She'll come crawling back like a beaten dog, begging for my forgiveness." A wave of derisive laughter erupted behind me. "After all these years, Lupita still uses the same tired tricks to get Alpha Cain's attention!" "I bet she'll be on her knees, pleading for Alpha Cain's forgiveness before sunrise!" But they didn't know. The person waiting to spirit me away was already at the door. This time, I would vanish from this gilded cage forever.

The whole world knew Lionel Potter was crazy about his wife. He wrote songs just for her, baked desserts for her, and couldn't go three sentences without saying "my wife". But Iris Potter discovered that the same Lionel who loved her as if his life depended on it had cheated. She summoned the system and applied to leave the world. [Understood. The self-exit channel has been activated. In 15 days, you will leave this world. The exit method will be a staged death. The location will be the seaside where you once saved the male lead. Cause of death: suicide by drowning. [Please prepare accordingly for your death.] On the 15th day, Iris arranged everything and staged her departure to look like she had gone into the sea, leaving Lionel behind. Only then did Lionel wake up. He unraveled, nearly losing his mind, consumed by the need to find her.

Tamara Winslow stands amid the crowd while clutching two different documents in her hand. One of them shows a diagnosis report on her alexithymia, while the other showcases a divorce agreement. Three hours ago, she had specifically visited the Clerk's Office because the hospital's system had shown her marital status as "divorced". The city clerk looks up at her. "Ma'am, it's true that you and Mr. Braxton Merrick got divorced three years ago." Tamara's expression freezes on her face. "How could that be? We got married three years ago!" The city clerk checks the details once again. This time, he adapts a rather awkward tone. "The results are correct. It's true that you got divorced three years ago. In fact, it took place… on the seventh second right after you got married…"

At the Thanksgiving dinner, Raphael's assistant Daphne was sitting in my seat. I frowned at Raphael. “Why is she in the Donna's seat? Doesn’t she know, and don’t you?” Raphael clicked his tongue, impatient. “You're the one who showed up late. People sit where they want. If it bothers you, leave.” I opened my mouth to argue, and his thoughts reached me before I could. [Scarlett, get angry. Fight back.] [Tell me you're my wife, the Donna of the Sterling family, that no one else has the right to sit at my side.] [Prove you love me. It's the only thing that makes me feel safe.] This time, I didn't give his thoughts what they were begging for. I slid the wedding ring off my finger instead. “That's the Donna's seat. If you've decided she belongs in it, I won't argue.” “Let's get divorced.”

The day I decided to marry the heir to one of the East Coast's wealthiest families, my ex-boyfriend Jack Harris showed up in my dream again. This time was different from all the others. He was on his knees in front of me, sobbing until his voice gave out. "Nora, I regret it." "Won't you come back to me?" The old me would have softened. But this time, I woke up and only wanted to laugh. For ten years I thought I dreamed of him because I couldn't let go, that I was pathetic for it. Then my best friend, a therapist, told me a colleague of hers had picked up a very strange client, a man who'd sold off everything he owned to learn a form of hypnosis that let him control people's dreams deeply. That man was Jack Harris. His wife was Vivian, the classmate who'd bullied me for years. The three of us had grown up together, childhood friends from the same small town. He'd tormented me for ten years, dumping me a different way in my dreams every single night, all to keep Vivian happy. And now he had me listening to his confessions in my dreams. It wasn't his conscience turning over. It was so I'd kill myself, so my heart could be transplanted into Vivian whole and undamaged. What he never imagined was that I'd found out everything ahead of time. This time, I was going to watch this rotten pair destroy themselves, one rotting away in his dreams, the other rotting in a hospital bed.

On the night of the Moon Hunt, I was chasing a silver-tailed fox through the forest when the horse beneath me suddenly lost control and threw me down the slope. Right when I was about to fall off the cliff, Xavier Long—the Alpha heir—shifted into his wolf form and pulled me back to safety. However, in the process, his foreleg was slashed by silver thorns, the injury cutting deep into the bone. Because of that wound, when my stepsister, Winnie Sullivan, was later attacked by rogue wolves in the Moon Rite Forest, he couldn’t reach her in time. She died beneath the wolves’ claws. Not long after, the elders of the Frostmoon Pack arranged a mating bond between Xavier and me. He accepted the arrangement calmly. At the time, I thought that even if we weren’t fated to be mates, what we had was no less meaningful. However, I was wrong. When I became pregnant with our first child, Xavier poisoned me with wolfsbane. As I lay dying, he looked at me with indifference and said, “If you hadn’t been wearing Winnie’s pale moon-white cloak that day, I would never have mistaken you for her in the forest, and she wouldn’t have died. If I had another chance, I’d rather watch you die beneath those werewolves than save you again.” Only then did I realize that in Xavier’s heart, he had always considered my stepsister his true mate. He had even once gone to the Alpha to ask for permission to mark her. Then, when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the Moon Hunt.