Is Doc Severinsen Still Alive Novels & Stories

I was rejected, but soon, I will marry a wheelchair-bound Rogue. "Is this your fiancé?" "Yes, he is my husband, Raymond Black," I introduced. "How shameful, you are marrying this... uh, rogue, who has no clan, no fixed pack, and can't even protect you if attacked by other werewolves?" I stood at the altar, with many people below, as if saying to me: you are such a fool! Raymond said beside me, "Caitlin, if you want to back out, you still have a chance now, you can choose to run away." I shook my head, "No... I won't run away, you will be my husband." I saw a hint of surprise in his emerald, green eyes. ******* I was set up by my best friend to have sex with a strange man, my first MATE rejected me, an enemy weapon ran through my father's heart, pierced my mother's body. My best friend's family stripped me of my ALPHA status, and I became everyone's go-to OMEGA. Until that man came along, Rogue, and he saved me, but... I found that he seemed to hide a lot of secrets, wait, my second mate is alpha king?!

3 years ago, the Southern witch sealed the mate bond between Dylan and me with her spell. She said that if we still truly loved each other after 3 years, the bond would remain. Otherwise, it would be broken. During these years, I helped him become the Alpha of our pack as his Luna. But in his heart, there was someone else, his childhood sweetheart, Eleanor. When Eleanor found out that we had started our mate bond, she chose to leave with another werewolf. Dylan was drunk and cried out her name in my arms. His wolf claws scratched me. At that moment, my arm was bleeding, so was my heart. But I believed that he would gradually fall in love with me as time went on. I thought 3 years would be quite enough for that. When the 3 years are almost up, Eleanor returned. Dylan dropped an important meeting to meet with her. We lost $2 billion because of that. Dylan started being by her side every day, just like before. I used to be so afraid that when the time came, we wouldn’t be in love, and that I might lose Dylan. 7 days later, our mate bond would be gone. This time, I didn’t care anymore. It was just a countdown for me to become the Alpha Queen of my own pack.

On their engagement day, her fiancé cheated with her sister, and pushed her down the stairs even though she was pregnant!Five years later, Charmine Jiang made an impactful return, rooted with a deep hatred for scumbags. She was cold-hearted, ready to fight for the family money, eyed to become a supermodel. She was ready to stun the world.Although she was determined to make her own money for revenge, hordes of men still insisted on helping her, spoiling her.“Who offended my lady? Get the gears ready!”“AK999 ready, I’ve got the scumbags! Dad, Mom, please bring me a little sister!”

“Damn it, Viola! Do you even hear yourself? You’re miserable, and you’re pretending it’s normal!” Logan says, clenching his fists beside him. I drag in a shaky breath. “What do you want me to do, Logan? Just leave my marriage?” “Yes!” I freeze. He steps closer. “Leave. And let me love you the way you deserve.” *** She thought heartbreak was the worst thing he could do to her. Then he came back. Three years ago, Logan Reynolds chose ambition over love, leaving Viola McCoy behind—and breaking her heart in the process. Determined to move on, she made a choice—one that led her into the arms of Julian Cruz, a man who vowed to love her but only saw her as a means to an end. Now, trapped in a loveless marriage, Viola endures the whispers, the neglect, and the bruises she hides beneath designer sleeves. But when Logan returns as the new CEO of Reynolds Publishing—her boss—Viola’s carefully constructed world begins to crack. He sees through her forced smiles and polite lies. He soon realizes the woman he left behind is still fighting to be heard. Logan is determined to save her. Viola? She’s certain she can’t be saved. But in the middle of stolen glances, midnight confessions, and the words they can’t say out loud, one question remains: Can love be rewritten, or are some stories doomed to end the same way twice?

Lindsey Johnson asks her fiance's true love, Stephanie Sullivan, to repay her debt. The next day, Jacob Whitaker throws at her a ledger that she had never seen before. Every single expense from their five-year relationship is recorded inside. From small things like two-dollar ice cream to the expensive items like the luxury bags he gave her. Even the costs of hotel stays and condoms are recorded in the ledger. "I'll split half the hotel bills with you. After deducting the 100 grand Stephie owes you, you still owe me 2.08 million. You have one month to transfer the month to my account."

The most powerful Godfather in the mafia underworld—Dante Costello—had an expensive diamond signet ring custom-made to fit my finger perfectly and sent straight to our home. He said that whoever could wear the ring would become the lady of his family. The Monroe family had long since fallen from grace. All that remained were four women. On ordinary days, we fought endlessly, tearing each other apart. Every single one of us wanted to marry Dante because marrying him meant preserving a life of dignity and comfort. In the first life, the fake heiress, Blair, secretly had the ring resized smaller and married into the family. Dante took one look at her, then had her thrown into the river to drown. “Not her.” In the second life, my cousin, Chloe, underwent plastic surgery to alter her fingers and force the ring on. Dante gifted her a staged car accident. “Still not her.” In the third life, my stepmother, Catherine, clenched her teeth and forced the ring onto her finger. Her blood hadn’t even dried when she married Dante. He coldly slashed her face, then locked her in the basement, where she slowly wasted away until death. By the fourth life, all three of them were terrified. None of them dared to marry him anymore, so they hurriedly pushed me forward instead. I put on the ring. This time, the size was perfect. Just when I thought my good days had finally begun, Dante stabbed me to death on our wedding night, his eyes burning red with madness. After my rebirth, the consigliere of the Dante family delivered the ring once again. This time, all four of us avoided it like the plague.

After I was reborn, I dumped the cheating bastard and married his older twin brother. But as it turns out, I still picked the wrong man. In my past life, I married Maxwell Vaughan, the younger twin. Not long after our wedding, he started sleeping with Kelly Sloan, the maid's daughter. For her, he set the house on fire while I was sleeping. I woke up burned beyond recognition. Amoura, the world-famous lingerie brand, dropped me overnight. Just like that, my modeling career was over. This time, I chose Charlie Vaughan, the older twin. We were in sync and deeply in love. I thought I'd finally made it, that I'd rise to the top and become the supermodel I was meant to be. But the night before my Amoura runway show, my face was burned again. Charlie uncovered the truth quickly and had Maxwell arrested. For a moment, I thought I'd made the right choice this time. Six years later, I overhear something I was never meant to hear as Charlie tucks our sons, Declan and Dylan Vaughan, into bed. "Dad, Uncle Max already took the fall for Kelly. So why did she have to leave the country? Couldn't she have stayed here with us?" "Yeah, Dad. We still want Kelly to be our mom. We hate that freak!" Charlie pulls Declan and Dylan into his arms. His gaze softens with sorrow, then hardens with quiet resolve. "I already betrayed your mom once for Kelly. I'll spend the rest of my life to make it right." A rush of emotion surged through me, the pain cutting deeper than the fire ever did. For six years of marriage and eight years of love, I've been nothing more than a joke. Only now do I see it—Charlie loved Kelly all along, just like Maxwell did. Our marriage was nothing more than a matter of convenience. Even Declan and Dylan call me a freak and wish Kelly were their mother. If that's how it is, then so be it. I'm done with all three of them.

Yvette and I fought over who was the real heiress for two lifetimes. In my first life, my parents were convinced I was their true daughter. They coaxed me into going to the hospital for a blood test. However, when I woke up in the ward, weak from blood loss, I saw their faces twisted with hatred as they strangled me. “You fake! Just die!” “You’re not our child at all!” I could not fight back. In agony, I took my last breath. In my second life, I was certain Yvette was the real heiress. I pretended to be sick to avoid my parents. Still, I saw the news a few days later—Yvette’s body had been found in the wilderness, drained to a husk. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn for the second time. Yvette was shaken with fear, while I was dragging my suitcase. Both of us were staring at each other. I looked at her and smiled. “How about we run away together?”

"Is that pussy still aching for me?" Roman breathed, his thumb tracing dangerously close without landing. "Two years of being ignored and one touch from me has you soaking through your pretty little underwear." "I hate you," I whispered, even as my hips chased his hand. "No you don't." His eyes locked on mine, dark and certain. "You hate that your husband never once made you feel this way. You hate that it's his brother who knows exactly how to ruin you." He was right and I hated him for it. ********** It shouldn't have been Roman touching me, consuming me and making me scream things I couldn't take back. He was reckless, unapologetic and completely wrong for me. He was also my husband's brother. Yet one look from him dismantled two years of careful composure. One touch and every reason to stop dissolved into nothing. I should have walked away the night he found me on that couch. Instead I said yes. And Roman Clarke never stopped collecting on that answer. This is not your normal spicy, I am here to remind you that some cravings are worth every consequence.

Three years of marriage, and it all ends with two words. Sign it. He didn’t even look up when he said it. Just slid the papers across the table like I was another business deal to close. We weren’t supposed to fall in love it started as a contract, something practical, something safe. But feelings have a way of growing where they shouldn’t. For a while, I thought he cared. The quiet moments, the small things he remembered my favorite song, how I take my tea, the way I hate the rain. I thought they meant something. Turns out, they did. Just not for me. Every gesture, every soft word, was borrowed from a memory. From her. The woman who had him first. The one who left. The one who’s now back. So I signed. I smiled. I walked away. Not because I wanted to but because I had to. He doesn’t chase me. Not yet. But I can feel it the weight of everything unsaid still hanging in the air between us. Maybe he’ll realize what he’s lost. Maybe he won’t. Either way, this time, I’m not waiting around to find out.