Folding Warhammer Table Novels & Stories

Isadora didn’t want to come to Ashwyck Academy. It wasn’t the haunting towers or the iron gates that unnerved her. It wasn’t the students—dark, beautiful, terrifying things cloaked in magic and menace. It was what it meant. Coming here was a last resort. A whispered admission from her parents that something was wrong with her. That despite being born of a temptress and a mind-bending killer, despite all the bloodlines and rituals and whispered prophecies—Isadora was still painfully, tragically human. She was quiet, clever, and careful. Not powerful. Not wicked. Not like the others. Her parents called it “late blooming.” The High Table called it “defective.” But no one said it out loud. Instead, they tucked her into Ashwyck like a final gamble and hoped the academy could awaken whatever dark inheritance slumbered beneath her skin. She hadn’t wanted to come. She still doesn’t belong. But Ashwyck has its own secrets. And Isadora is about to discover that the parts of her she’s most afraid of are the ones they’ve been waiting for.

After secretly registering our marriage, my lawyer husband, Benedict White, proposed holding a public wedding ceremony every time he gained favor with his lover, Anna Lester. Over three years, Benedict asked me thirty-three times and broke thirty-three promises. The first time, Anna’s dog died. He said we had to mourn for three months to honor it. I stood in a wedding dress and apologized endlessly to the friends and relatives seated below the stage. The second time, Anna had menstrual pain. He turned around on the way and went to care for her. After that, every ceremony he promised came with a new problem from Anna. I cried. I protested. Yet Benedict always said, “She's just a friend with benefits. You’re my wife. Don’t be so petty about it.” After the thirty-third time, I finally grew tired. I slid a divorce agreement across the table in front of him. “Let’s get this over with.”

“On your fours, now.” The Cold voice of my new Master, the ruthless and dreadful Alpha of the Red Moon Pack, brought cold shivers down my spine. Shivering, I quickly climbed on the bed. Tears circulated in my eyes, and gradually dropped in my cheeks. Of course, he doesn't care how I'm feeling. I was going to lose my virginity to a dreaded Alpha, who sees me only as his breeder and his slave. Once I give the Alpha a child, I'll be killed! * My name is Daphne Knight. I'm 22 years old, orphaned, wolf-less omega, and a breeder because I was sold by my very own father to the terrifying Alpha for money and power. “You're nothing but a breeder to me.” He growled cruelly at me. If I don't give him a pup, I'd be killed, and if I give him a pup, I'd be killed too. All I am is just the Alpha's Breeder. But what if the table turns?

At the annual company banquet, the boss had the tables and chairs from the logistics department removed, leaving only a stainless steel dog bowl in the center of the stage. "Logistics is just the company's watchdog," he said coldly. "Since when do watchdogs sit at the table and eat?" The top sales champion laughed as he dumped leftovers into the bowl. The boss casually slipped a black garbage bag over my shoulders. "From now on, you're the company's living trash can. Catch it properly." Laughter erupted across the room. Amid the jeers, I silently tightened my grip on the universal access card in my hand. What they didn't know was that the building's special approvals for water and electricity—and all its property management connections—were maintained by this very "dog face" of mine. I tossed my ID badge into the dog bowl and turned to leave. Let's see how long you last once the new year passes—without logistics there to hold everything together.

The blindfold came off. I blinked. A chandelier. A fireplace. A mansion i had never seen. And a man i had known my whole life — standing with his back to me, a half-empty bottle on the table beside him. Caleb. "Please." My voice cracked. "I don't know what's happening. I think there's been a mistake—" He turned slowly. The grief on his face curdled into something else entirely. "You put her in that chair," he said. Low. Shaking. "You did that." "I didn't—" He crossed the room in four strides. His hand closed in my hair and drove me to my knees before i could breathe. "You're not going home," Caleb Wren said quietly. "Your sister's wedding is in four days. You look exactly like her." His eyes moved over me, cold and final. "You're going to take her place. Consider it what you owe."

She cannot escape him. On a blind-date, she unknowingly meets the most dangerous man to exist, and falls into his world of darkness and desire as both his mate, and his worst enemy. *** I rest both my hands against the table. "I'll go on another date with you, if you tell me one thing about yourself that no one else knows." He’s silent for a long moment, pondering my offer. Eventually he quirks his fingers at me. "Lean closer." Bracing myself against the table, I lean over it toward him, noting every detail about his face as I get closer. Every hair, every freckle. His beautiful is unimaginable. His breath warms my skin, dancing over my ear as I dip my head toward him. Will he kiss me, and make good on my sinful thoughts? His voice is like an erotic caress as he murmurs in my ear, "I'm a murderer."

My sister was the golden child, the pride of our family, but she had a rare blood disorder that required treatments costing thousands every month. To keep her alive, I became her personal blood donor, working nonstop to pay for her care and delivering food all day and night. But one day, she nearly died from hemorrhaging after trying to abort a pregnancy. That’s when I learned the child she was carrying belonged to my boyfriend. When I confronted him, he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he dragged me to the operating table himself. “You were born to be her blood bank. Dying for her? It’s the best thing you’ll ever do.” I was left there, bleeding out, my life slipping away with every drop. But as death closed in, something changed. The people who once hoped I’d disappear—the ones who used me, betrayed me—they all began to unravel, losing their insanity.

I spent three years studying like my life depended on it before I finally earned a government job. Then, on my first week there, I saw a familiar face. My cousin. The same cousin I’d met at that awkward family reunion back home. Somehow, he had gotten hired by the same department. A few days later, at a family dinner, he made his move. With my uncle sitting right there at the head of the table, acting every bit like the important city official he was, my cousin shoved a classified file into my hands. The pages had clearly been tampered with. Before I could say a word, he let out a sharp cry and dropped to the floor. The file spilled open across the tile. “Ethan!” he shouted, his voice trembling with fake disbelief. “That’s confidential government material! How could you steal it and show it to outsiders? Was the finder’s fee really worth selling us out?” My uncle slammed his hand on the table and stood up, his face dark with rage. He said he would not protect family at the cost of justice. He said he would fire me on the spot and report me to the higher-ups himself. That was when a string of floating comments appeared in front of my eyes. [This cousin is painfully stupid. Does he seriously not know the male lead was brought in from above as the head of the internal inspection team? He’s here to investigate him.] [And the uncle is still acting. Hilarious. The inspection team’s car is literally about to pull up outside.] I read the comments, then calmly lifted my teacup and took a slow sip. Across from me, my cousin was still trying to look loyal and outraged. I set the cup down and smiled. “You’re right about one thing. This file is confidential.” His eyes lit up. Then I added, “But you changed the wrong section.” The color drained from his face. I turned to my uncle. “And Uncle, didn’t you just say you’d put justice before family?” I pushed back my chair and stood. “Great. Then come with me to the Special Investigations Unit and explain how many people you’ve illegally helped into the department over the years.” My cousin stared at me, completely stunned. He had fought so hard to get into public service. He had no idea I was the one sent to clean it up.

While my husband was chatting with his friend at the dining table, his friend suddenly spoke in Italian. “You married Lyra to write a pardon letter for River. You’ve been showing more concern toward Lyra, but you’re still lying to her and saying that the contraceptives are antidepressants. Don’t you think Lyra will break down if she learns the truth?” My husband wore a complicated expression as he chuckled bitterly and said, “Why let a child be born if I don’t want it? As for Lyra, so long as she doesn’t interfere with River’s happiness, I’ll keep my promise and protect her for life.” No one knew that I had already learned Italian to keep up with my husband. I stood in the living room with fresh hickeys on my neck. In my hand, I held the “antidepressants” and felt a chill run down my spine. So, my husband’s love for me had been fake? My salvation had actually been a meticulously planned lie? In that case, I would help them fulfill their wishes.

Bianca was sold to a mafia lord at a very young age and all she could think about was getting revenge. Her plan was going well until the mafia lord's son, Nico, came into the picture. Nico was handsome and cold, brutal but calm. However, when he met Bianca, she brought out his troubled side. He didn't want her. She didn't care. In fact, she hated him. She felt he was emotionless and he felt she was too tough. Both were intrigued. ~♡~ "The only thing stopping me from taking you right here on this table, is that you belong to my father." His voice was tensed and I didn't need to see his face to know how he felt. "My father's whore." He added. I swallowed, hurt by his words. "You keep calling me a whore but when will you start treating me like one and fuck me." He was resisting. I knew it. I didn't know why but I hated him for doing so.