Hold Hand Reference Novels & Stories

Augustina Darius never planned to marry—especially not a man known for breaking enemies without mercy. But refusing Alpha Kael Dravaryn isn’t an option. It’s a death sentence. Bound by pack law and political necessity, Augustina is forced into a marriage where obedience is survival. In public, she plays the perfect Luna—quiet, graceful, compliant. Behind closed doors, she walks on invisible fault lines, knowing one wrong step could destroy her. Kael Dravaryn is everything the rumors claim: powerful, ruthless, and emotionally untouchable. His mansion is ruled by silence and secrets, and the shadow of his late wife lingers in every corridor. There are rooms Augustina is forbidden to enter. Questions she is warned never to ask. A past that refuses to stay buried. Then Kael’s five-year-old son says something that turns her blood cold. “I still see my mommy at night.” What begins as a child’s whisper becomes a trail of impossible truths—hidden doors, locked memories, and a death that may not have been an accident at all. As Augustina digs deeper into the Obsidian Vale estate, she realizes the greatest danger isn’t her husband’s reputation… It’s what he’s protecting. Because some secrets don’t just ruin marriages. They kill the women who uncover them.

Iria has spent her life as a weak, sickly omega. Who has always been overlooked and convinced she is When a violent ritual forcibly binds her to the cold, disciplined Alpha Kael, she becomes the center of an ancient power struggle. Trapped in his quarters under the guise of “protection,” Iria fights the unwanted pull of the bond while Kael battles his growing obsession with the fragile omega who weakens him and strengthens him at the same time. As dark truths about her Virellan bloodline surface, Iria must choose between sacrificing herself for a cruel system…or destroying it to claim a love that is chosen, not fated. In a world ruled by bonds and obedience, one weak Luna will teach an Alpha what real strength looks like.

I loved Stella for five years, and we were even engaged. However, she never helped when my grandfather was dying, all because the adopted son of my family suggested that she should use the opportunity to put me through adversity—so that I would toughen up. After my grandfather died helplessly, I toughened up just as she hoped for, no longer relying on her for everything. Naturally, I no longer loved her anymore either.

My first time meeting Lawrence Seinfield was during my return to a noble family as its heiress. He helped me get out of a sticky situation once, and for that, I spent five years trying to steal his heart. I loved him. Eventually, he became my fiance, but he thought I was beneath him. He thought my lack of education and proper upbringing was bad. My grandfather, the one who raised me, was dying. Just when I needed his help the most, he decided to teach me a lesson and show me my place. Without any help, my grandfather died, and like Lawrence wished, I knew my place. And I lost my love for him.

My parents have always been biased against me, even as a child. They leave me in the countryside while raising my brother themselves. When I'm finally brought to live with them, they neglect me because they don't want my brother to be upset. When my brother says that I'm rude and falsely accuses me of getting people to assault him, my parents believe him without a shadow of doubt. And so, I'm sent to a residential treatment center. Under my parents' tacit permission and my brother's persuasion, the teachers at the center "educate" me inhumanely. In the end, I learn my lesson, as everyone wishes. I die while learning it, too.

Edward Sterling is playing in his university's freshman basketball tournament when my parents banish me abroad. My biological sister and my fiancée are both on the sidelines, cheering for him. That spotlight should've been mine. The jersey he's wearing, with a star player's autograph on it, was supposed to be my 14th birthday gift. Edward and I have been rivals for most of our lives. It never matters whether I'm right or wrong—the moment he plays the victim, my parents rush to defend him and scold me without hesitation. But I am their biological son! It's not until I die alone and sick in a foreign country that I finally understand one thing. If I ever get a second chance, I'll never again fight Edward for love that was never mine to begin with.

It was my first time going to my boyfriend’s home for the New Year. In the middle of dinner, his childhood friend suddenly slammed her spoon on the table. “Cole, how could you bring a bar girl to our New Year’s Eve dinner?” The room fell silent. Everyone thought she simply had too much to drink. But she spoke with complete confidence. “One of my friends works on the vice squad. He arrested her himself. There’s no way he got the wrong person.” She threw a police penalty notice onto the table. My name was clearly printed on it. I was stunned. Last month, the city’s vice squad had arrested dozens of people. I was the one who approved and signed those cases. I had just taken office as bureau chief.

What is scarier than someone living in your walls? How about finding out the boy in the walls has seen a monster in there? What will the Count's daughter and her two unusual friends do to protect her home? Rated 12+ for light violence, kissing, sexual reference

My mother was the best portrait artist in the police station. She had a strong sense of justice and brooked no evil. However, all I got was a sharp retort when I called her to save me. "You know it's your sister's coming-of-age celebration today, and you're cursing her? Kidnapped, are you? Fine, the kidnappers can kill you for all I care." She assumed it was a prank call. So, she refused to go to the police station and do her job. I wasn't saved in time and was tortured to death. When the DNA report came out, she came to the scene all wobbly. She drew a portrait of me with my bones as reference, her hand trembling all the way. "Jessica? It can't be her. This is a mistake!" She tried again and again. Yet, it didn't matter how many times she redid it as the portrait showed my face. My mother, who had hated me my whole life, teared up.

After three years of living with my wife’s family, everyone thought they could treat me like a pushover. Me? I’m just waiting for her to hold my hand before I can give her the world.