Karma Classrooms Novels & Stories

After my twin sister Harper died, my Alpha mate hated me for ten years. For a whole decade, I was his Luna, and I tried every possible way to be good to him. One day, he said, “If you really want to please me so much, then just die.” So when a truck was coming at me, I didn’t even move, but I had never expected that Noah would push me out of the way to save me. He was badly injured. Before he died, he looked at me and whispered, “Charlotte, if only I had never met you, everything would have been better.” At Noah’s funeral, all the elders and members of the pack came. “I should have let Noah choose Harper as his Luna. I regret forcing him to choose you back then. You killed him!” Noah’s mother was overcome with grief. Noah’s father also said, “You know? Noah saved your life three times! He was such a kind-hearted Alpha. Why didn’t you die instead?” Everyone at the funeral stared at me with blame. Finally, I was thrown out of the funeral, lost and devastated. Three years later, with the help of a witch, I returned to the past through her spell. This time, I have made a decision. No matter what, I will never be Noah’s Luna again.

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

My roommate bought an antique bronze censer online. She burned incense day and night, praying to be with a wealthy boyfriend. I thought it was silly, until her face began to look like mine. Soon, she became the admired heiress, while I was left drowning in debts she had deliberately racked up. I begged her for my identity back, and she pretended to agree. However, she tricked me into giving her my bank account password and pushed me off a rooftop. I learned at that moment that the censer was a cursed relic that grants wishes by draining the life and luck of another. She could take everything from me once my life was ruined, but death was not the end for me. I woke up on the day she first got the cursed censer. The truth was every wish comes with a price, and I was going to make sure she pays.

I had always thought I was the happiest woman in the world. After all, my fiance was rich, handsome, and thoughtful. To everyone else, he was practically perfect. However, I found three divorce decrees and death certificates of his three ex-wives in his drawer the day before our wedding. Before I could even process the shock, a wall of floating comments appeared before my eyes. 'So, she's the next victim, huh?' 'The last three thought they could change Ivan and insist on marrying him, although they found his secret, and look where it got them. This one is even dumber, completely blinded by love. I bet she thinks he can still be redeemed. Little does she know, he doesn't love her at all.' 'We need more villainous male leads! I wonder how this woman would die this time. I can't wait to see it!' 'Great news, friends! The female lead, Cynthia, will appear soon! She's the only one who can free Ivan from his dark thoughts!' The next moment, a colleague dropped to her knees and grabbed my thigh. Tears spilled from her eyes in an instant as she accused me, "Please, give my man back to me! Being a homewrecker won't end well for you. He and I are soulmates. He needs me to pull him out of the abyss. Only I can give him what he truly wants!" My other colleagues circled me and echoed her accusations. I simply nodded. Then I tore the wedding invitations in half. 'Go ahead. He's all yours now,' I thought.

On my husband's birthday, I poured my heart into preparing a feast and selecting the perfect gift. Yet, he didn't come home. Instead, I received a picture message—a snapshot of him at the hospital, standing outside the OB-GYN ward, his hand resting tenderly on his childhood crush's belly. Beneath the photo, a message read: [The best birthday gift and a symbol of our decade-long bond.] Furious, I called her. "Don't you know he's married?" Before I could say more, my husband snatched the phone and lashed out at me. "Yvonne just wanted to share the joy of becoming a mother. Why are you overreacting? "Yvonne and I have been best friends for over a decade. Your petty jealousy is disgusting!" I once believed his busyness was for our future, but now I knew—he had been busy supporting the girl of his dreams through her pregnancy. Clutching my own stomach, I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling. Ten years of love had drained away. It was time to let go.

The cataclysm was upon us. The world was besieged by a wave of deadly frost, covering everything it touched in an icy coffin. We were trapped in a cave of ice, but fortunately, Joshua Frost came to our rescue just in time. I thought I was saved, but I thought wrong. Joshua didn't even give me a moment of his time. Instead, he went to my best friend's side. "Irene isn't good with the cold, and she's not in the best of health. Just hang on for a bit, Sera. The rescue squad's coming soon." When the rescue squad did come, I had passed out from the extreme cold, my body numb. While I was weakened, Joshua stripped me of my Ability and gave it to my best friend.

When we're playing cards during the holidays, my cousin, Owen Thompson, suddenly calls it boring and tells us that he wants to make a big gamble. Then, he tosses his BMW keys onto the table and asks if we're bold enough to follow up with our own bets. I know that Owen is just trying to flaunt the fact that he's bought himself a BMW. Everyone is stunned by his antics. They quickly say, "This is just a game. We're not going to bet anything else." After that, they start complimenting how amazing Owen is to be able to own a BMW at such a young age. I, on the other hand, hesitate to do so. After all, my trump cards are a set of Ks. Having gotten his ego boosted by the compliments, Owen is about to flush the deck when I put my car keys belonging to a cheaper, rundown car. Then, I mumble, "I'm going to follow up with a bet of my own." Everyone falls silent at my statement. They just stare at me in disbelief, whereas Owen widens his eyes out of shock. Almost immediately, things grow heated between us. The moment both of us place our car keys onto the betting table, our feeble relationship as cousins is quick to vanish. But I don't regret my decision. Owen is the one who has decided to bet his BMW, after all. Since he's capable of being this ruthless toward his own relatives, I might as well not give a damn about his feelings at all. Owen lets out a cold chuckle before saying, "How much do you have in that pocket of yours, huh? You really think you can scare me, chump? I have a BMW, for crying out loud! You should gather more money first before placing your bet! Don't go around scamming others with just a shitty car!"

I was a princess ennobled by my father, the late king. Marrying the general of the northern frontier, Griffin Quenell was already a great show of royal favor. On my wedding day, just as my royal carriage arrived at the Quenell family’s courtyard, a woman dressed in grey wool knelt before the castle gate. She held a swaddled infant in her arms. Griffin, as the groom of the day, dressed in his wedding tunic, blocked my path with a troubled expression. “Your Grace, Joan is someone I met in the borderlands. She bore me a son and now has no place to go. Please let her move in with me on this special occasion. You’ll be my first wife, and she’ll be my second wife. It’s all for the sake of the Quenell bloodline.” The guests at the gate erupted into commotion. His grandmother, Wilma Quenell, spoke firmly. “Your Grace, you were born into royalty. You certainly do not lack a title. However, Griffin is the only son the Quenell family has had in three generations. This child bears the Quenell name. We surely can’t make him an illegitimate child.” The border soldiers knelt and said in unison, “Your Grace, have mercy!” I looked down at the child in the swaddle, then at Griffin’s pleading gaze. I smiled, removed my coronet from my head, and placed it on the wedding table. Then, I turned and boarded my carriage. “General Quenell, I will not stop you from wanting an heir, but my late father’s decree said I am to be married, not given away as a gift. If your family cannot abide by his words, then I shall take the decree back with me.”

The morning after their night together, Harper Sullivan froze with a sudden, sickening realization—Ryan Delgado hadn't used protection. Fear coiled tight in her chest, sharp and suffocating. But Ryan just smirked, his voice smooth, teasing, as if this were some kind of game. "Our families are enemies. A baby changes that. Your father would have to accept me. Then I could marry you—properly." Heat rushed to her cheeks. She should have pushed him away, should have demanded answers—but his touch still burned through her resistance, and she gave in to him. Then, like a knife to the ribs, she heard his friend's voice from the next room, laced with cruel amusement. "Ryan, that's genius. Get her pregnant, then dump her. Harper would never recover from the scandal. And her family? Total disgrace." Ryan let out a cold, satisfied laugh. "Serves her right. She stole Olivia's spot as valedictorian, broke her heart, drove her overseas. I'll make sure she pays—this is for Olivia." Harper's body went rigid. Three years. Three years of stolen moments, swallowed secrets, letting him touch her in the dark while her family believed her loyal. And it had all been a lie. Rage and humiliation crashed over her, so violent she nearly choked on it. Her phone buzzed in her trembling hand. Fighting back tears, she answered. "Dad… I'll take the engagement."

My sister was autistic. The doctors called it "severe sensory overload." The rule was simple: No sudden noises. Ever. So my whole life was set to mute. I never wore heels. I never raised my voice. I wasn't even allowed to laugh. It was all to keep her from having a meltdown. My father, Victor, the Don of the Castellano family, would grip my shoulder. His face was a mask of apology. "Sera, you're my good girl. Protecting your sister is our duty. You're healthy and strong. You can sacrifice a little for her, can't you?" That day, I was on the second-floor terrace and accidentally knocked over a pot of white roses. The sound of it shattering sent my sister, who was sunbathing in the garden below, into a meltdown. For the first time, Victor glared at me like I was the enemy. He roared, "Can't you just be quiet? Do you want to drive her insane?" My sister backed away in terror, right into a glass table, and let out a piercing scream. Victor charged past me, a blur of rage and panic. He slammed into me on the stairs as I was running down to help. I lost my footing and crashed chest-first into the sharp corner of a wrought-iron banister post. Pain exploded in my chest. I opened my mouth to scream, but only silence came out. My family swarmed around my shrieking sister. No one even glanced at me. My lungs filled with blood. I was drowning on the floor. They all thought my sister, the one with autism, needed the family's comfort. They thought I just took a fall. That I could wait. They were wrong.