Karma Akabane Novels & Stories

In my previous life, the apocalyptic haunts descended without warning, and the whole world plunged into a living hell. After two days of starvation, my husband and mother-in-law tied me to a chair. I begged them desperately, but they did not spare me. Instead, to keep their "food" fresh, they sliced the flesh straight from my leg. When I was reborn, I spent every last cent of my fortune to hold a grand, extravagant funeral, for myself. My husband and mother-in-law thought I had lost my mind. However, what they had not known was this: anyone who buried themselves could claim the treasures laid to rest in their own coffin: golden coins that could command the anomalies of the end times. Which meant that with this extravagant funeral, I would stand invincible when the apocalypse arrived. That time, without me as their "meat" and scapegoat… I would see how long they lasted.

My son accidentally ate peanuts and suffered a severe allergic reaction. I threw away all the anti-allergy medication in the house and even hung up when he called 911 for help. I watched helplessly as his airway swelled shut and he suffocated to death. In my previous life, when my son struggled to breathe, I immediately drove him to the hospital. After an intense rescue effort, he survived, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. However, my mother-in-law stormed in, furious, accusing me of being a monster and blaming me for nearly killing him. I hurried to explain that he was fine. Yet, when I presented the doctor's report and discharge paperwork, I was horrified to discover that they had turned into a death certificate. My son, who had been resting safely in the ICU, was gone. He had somehow appeared in the morgue. Refusing to accept it, I checked the surveillance footage. However, the footage clearly showed that my son never left the operating room. Instead, it was just me, talking to myself the entire time. I had no idea what was happening. No one believed me. They locked me in a psychiatric hospital. In the end, as my condition worsened, a swarm of frenzied patients attacked me and tore me apart alive.

I go into business with my childhood friend, Ian Ziegler. The business is a success, earning 1.2 million dollars in profit. Ian gives me my share—a whopping 5,000 dollars. Noticing my dissatisfaction, Ian puts his arm around my girlfriend, Nina Foster, and tosses the keys to his Bentley onto the table. "What, is five grand too little for you? Fine. Since you're so broke, I'll give you a chance to turn things around for yourself. There's going to be a soccer game tonight. We're both going to place our bets. If you win, you can get all 1.2 million, plus my car. "But if you lose, your girlfriend's mine. You'll also have to get on your knees and lick my shoes right here in front of everyone." Everyone else in the room cackles gleefully, eager to watch me humiliate myself. Smirking, I nod. "Sure. I'll take that bet." These people have no idea that five years ago, I'd single-handedly taken down the Northwest Aravian illegal soccer betting circuit. I'd set a trap for a match-fixing syndicate, beating the crooks at their own game. I'd walked away from that life after that. But now, Ian has seriously decided to challenge me to a soccer bet?

Alaric and I had been mates for five years, and I had believed with all my heart that I would become the first female Gamma of the pack by proving myself in the warrior’s trial. I had trained relentlessly, sharpening my claws and honing my instincts, ready to fight for my rightful place. But fate had other plans. Three days before the trial, I was ambushed by rogues. They didn't just attack me—they hunted me like prey. They tormented me with the silver knife so that my wolf was dead. The scent of death clung to me, my wolf howling in agony, desperately trying to heal, but the wounds ran too deep. As I lay barely conscious on the blood-stained sheets, I heard my husband's cold, indifferent voice. "Is she dead?" The witch doctor hesitated before answering, "No, but—" "It doesn’t matter," Alaric interrupted, Coat her wounds with wolfsbane and silver—make sure it seeps into her blood, burns through her veins, and poisons her wolf beyond repair. I want her body to reject her own nature, so she will never heal. There will only be one Gamma in this pack, and that's Serina." In that moment, the truth became clear—I had never truly stood a chance in the warrior’s trial I had dreamed of. The battle had been decided long before I ever stepped into the arena.

Seer Corvyn once foretold that House Ashveil would produce a daughter who could see the future. I hid the birthmark I was born with on my forehead, yet my younger sister painted a vivid mark on her forehead every single day. Then, a royal decree came, naming her the Crown Prince, Prince Caelen’s fiancée, and I married Prince Aldric, just like I had wanted. For the next five years, I used my ability to foresee the future to help Aldric rise to power. On the night he ascended the throne, I finally wiped away the layers of makeup and told him my secret. However, instead of relief, he flew into a rage. He carved the flesh from my forehead and had me executed. “Leanora, how dare you imitate Rosalind’s birthmark? If you hadn’t chosen me first, she would never have been forced to marry Caelen! She should have been my true queen! For five years, every moment I touched you has disgusted me. You shall die in her place.” When I opened my eyes again, Aldric burst in, cutting off Seer Corvyn mid-sentence. “How can a mark prove that Rosalind is the chosen one?” “I’m willing to use the blank royal decree Father once granted me to marry the Lord Chancellor’s illegitimate daughter, Rosalind Ashveil.”

The day our daughter had a high fever, Matt was at a parent-teacher meeting for his first love’s son. I called him, only for her to pick up. Through sobs, she apologized, but Matt quickly grabbed the phone, his tone impatient. "She’s a single mom with a kid. What’s wrong with me looking out for them?" So, I turned to my daughter, who was quietly receiving her IV, and asked softly, "How about it, sweetheart? From now on, it’s just you and me."

To cheer up his pretty assistant, my boyfriend brought her to attend a party. I had to bail him out after he was arrested by the police. The charge? Public indecency after consuming illegal substances. When I arrived at the police station to pick him up, he was still trying to comfort his assistant, paying no heed to the possibility that I might have seen the lipstick marks on his neck. After seeing that I wasn’t saying anything, my boyfriend assumed I was upset and explained impatiently, “Winnie was in a terrible mood that day, and I was just there to keep her company. We didn’t take part in any public indecency! It was the other guests who were messing about!” What a terrible excuse. If it was any other day, I wouldn’t be this calm. This time was different. I will no longer press him for answers like a mad woman. As I walked past the police station entrance, an officer looked at my boyfriend and his assistant, who were still all over each other. With eyes full of sympathy, he asked me, “Your partner?” I glanced at my boyfriend, whose focus was entirely fixated on Winnie, and shook my head. “No, just an acquaintance.” At that moment, Winnie was leaning against him, seeking his comfort. I pulled out my phone and texted my dad silently. “I agree to marry President Lee. I’ll leave the wedding preparation to you guys.” “I’ll be back in five days.”

In the first year I was brought home, the phony heiress Viola Baker suggested a trip to Gold Island to build a sisterly connection with me. My fiancé, Jeremy Abbott, had joined us to ensure our safety. However, they ended up amassing significant gambling debts at the island's casinos. In a bid to flee, he abandoned me on the island as a hostage, vanishing without a trace alongside Viola. The casino staff restrained me, poised to unleash their wrath upon me. In my frantic struggle, I glimpsed a phone number labeled "Island Owner" on the leader's phone screen. "Could that be the number of my brother, who had cared for me for more than a decade?"

My husband makes me quit my job to care for his deceased friend's wife after she's given birth. Yet, she deliberately breastfeeds to his face. He can't take his eyes off her, yet he has the nerve to call me petty. He even says I'm asking for trouble. Later, I get a divorce and sell the house. I return to my hometown and make it big there. That's when he begs me to take him back.

My boyfriend, Tom, promised a grand mating ceremony for my twentieth birthday. But at my banquet, he publicly requested a mate link with my stepsister, Lily. While the whole pack roared and cheered, I just stood there like a fool. The betrayal hit hard. Before I could even breathe, Sam—the Obsidian Pack's Alpha heir—said he'd secretly loved me all along and asked to claim me. I said yes. For five years, he spoiled me. Memorized my favorite runs, my wolf's quirks. Then I overheard him with his Beta: "Sam, Lily's Luna of White Rose Pack now, just like she wanted. You still gonna fake it with Any?" "I can't have Lily. Doesn't even matter who my mate is anymore. As long as I'm with Any, Lily's safe and happy." Later that night, I found his safe in the study. Inside? Every single thing she ever gave him. Handmade wolf fang pendants. Letters sealed with her paw print. His prized chest armor, every single scale etched with her name: [Lily, my dearest love. I'd shred through every thorn for your smile.] [Lily, rip out my wolf heart if you needed it. ] [Lily! Hell, I'd steal the whole damn world if you asked.] Five years. Five years of lies, shattered in seconds. I filed my request to leave the pack. In two days, I'd be out of Sam's life for good.