Oliver Dies Invincible Novels & Stories

My mother-in-law, Daisy Rothbart, gets pregnant around the same time I do. We even give birth to baby boys via cesarean sections on the same day. However, her infant dies later, and that's when she suddenly starts showering my son, Casey Dyson, with all her love and attention. After Casey officially takes over the family business one day, my husband, Jerome Dyson, and I die in an accident out at sea. However, my spirit remains close to Casey even after my death, and that's when I find out that he starts calling Daisy "Mom" while crying in relief. It is only then that I learn that the son I'd been bringing up for 20 years had been secretly switched at birth by none other than Daisy. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I'd traveled back in time to the day when Daisy and I were both scheduled to undergo cesarean sections at the hospital.

I'd barely been welcomed back into the inner circle when the fake heir tried to pull me into his little crew. The other rich kids, of course, couldn't resist messing with me. They pushed me to smoke and drink, treating me like some obedient stooge. I was pissed—steam practically coming out of my ears. He, meanwhile, put on this innocent act and said, "Hey, go easy on my brother. He just moved back from the middle of nowhere and doesn't know how things work around here. I'll take this one for him." Everyone ate up his "loyalty," and just like that, my reputation as some clueless hick was sealed. That day, he was set on dragging me to another rich-kid party. I was about to put my foot down when, out of nowhere, the steward from one of the capital's old-money families showed up at our door. He said it was a special order from the lady's father—an extravagant gift. My parents' faces lit up instantly. They clapped the fake heir on the shoulder, practically glowing with pride. "Ryan, you've made us proud! Looks like Sophia's family is more than pleased with you. This engagement—well, it's as good as done!" Ryan straightened his tie with practiced charm, shooting me a smug, taunting look. But when I glanced at the label on the gift box, I couldn't help but laugh. Every new hire at Harrington Group gets the same welcome package. If the Chairman of Harrington Group knew someone was mistaking it for an engagement gift for his daughter, he'd be furious enough to lose sleep.

In the year 2030, an apocalypse happen in the blink of an eye, and humanity is in great danger. "Do I have what it takes to survive them all?" That is the question that has been stuck in Shawn's mind as he wanders to chaos, destruction, and unexpected situations that he will encounter in this apocalyptic world. But the question that he should ask himself is: "Will the world dies upon me?"

When I was diagnosed with terminal Inner Wolf Decay, a System found me. It told me that if I could win the wholehearted romantic or familial love of just one out of four specific werewolves, I would get a healthy body and live. But for five years, I failed to win over a single one. Because they all fell for the same Omega—the fragile, hypocritical Chloe. Just because she framed me, claiming I ordered rogues to attack her, my targets glared at me with nothing but absolute disgust. My biological brother, Caleb, told me, "I don't have a sister as vicious as you." My pack healer, Julian, didn't believe I suffered from depression. He glared at me with revulsion and said, "Chloe is the one who got hurt. Stop playing the victim." My childhood friend, Victor, stared at me coldly. "You're so toxic. I really wish you'd just die." Later, just as they wished, my mission failed, and my inner wolf was actually going to die. But then, they were the ones crying and begging me not to go.

The day I learned the truth about my husband, Duke Alistair, and his adopted sister, Liana, I left. I abandoned my title, my home, and returned to my father's palace. A year passed. Then came news of chaos in the duchy. The servant Alistair sent spoke with desperation, “Your Highness, the Duke and your son are lost to reason. If you don’t return, I fear they will burn everything to the ground.” I looked at the blood I'd coughed onto my handkerchief. I nodded. "Fine. I'll go back." The doctor had already given me my diagnosis. Consumption. I had only a month left to live. So I went back. And I played the part of the perfect duchess. I no longer demanded Alistair's loyalty. I even found him three new mistresses who looked just like Liana and sent them to his bed after he had sent her away for me. I no longer made Damian study the arts of statecraft and not forced him to master his courtly duties. Instead, I supported his ridiculous dream of joining the Expeditionary Force. I took the pain they gave me. I wrapped it in the "understanding" they always craved. And I served it back to them cold. But it drove Alistair mad. He threw out the mistresses. He crushed me in his arms. His kiss was a punishment. He bit my lip, drawing blood. "I sent Liana away! What more do you want from me? How can I earn your forgiveness?" Damian cried and clung to my arm. "I'll never call Aunt Liana 'gentle' or 'beautiful' again! Mother, please. Just stop." They didn't understand. I wasn't making a scene. I just wanted to live out my last month in peace. And then, I wanted to die.

During my dad's funeral procession, the hearse grinds to a halt when a wedding convoy blocks its way. I get out of my car and try to negotiate with the groom, only for him to grab a brick and smash it right into my head. "Who the hell do you think you are for blocking my way? Do you have any idea who I'm marrying?" In fact, the groom has the nerve to stomp down on the gas pedal and crash into the hearse, sending it—and my dad's body—flipping over the road. "What do you mean 'respect the dead'? As if! My wife is the chairwoman of Nexora Group! You should be honored that you get to make way for her!" But the thing is, Nexora Group is my family's company. I turn to look at the bride depicted on the wedding banner. That woman is Josephine Thornton, my wife who's supposed to be on an overseas business trip right now! So, I place a phone call and have Josephine dismissed from her job. This time, I'd like to see what Josephine and her new "husband" can do to make it up to my dad, a national hero who devoted his life to the country!

My stepmother—my father's new mate—demanded the code to the safe. The safe that held my mother’s moonstone amulet. I ignored her. I was too busy preparing for the pack's centennial blessing ceremony. Not long after, she sent a second text: "Since you wouldn't reply, I had someone force it open. The stone is way too big, though. I'm having it cut down so it looks good on me." I dropped the candlestick, shifted, and tore off toward home. But I was too late. The moonstone lay shattered in the middle of the living room. Its lunar warmth was gone. Heartbroken, I roared, "That belonged to my mother! How dare you touch it?" Livia lounged on the sofa, lazily filing her nails. She didn't even bother to look up. "I needed a necklace to match my dress for tomorrow. You didn't text back, so I handled it myself. Stop being so dramatic." "Dramatic? Do you know what that was? It wasn't just my mother's, it was—" Boom. Alpha aura slammed into me like a mountain. My legs gave out instantly. My father—Marcus, the Alpha of our pack—stood before me. His golden wolf eyes shrank with fury. "Your mother has been dead for twenty years! Why do you keep bringing her up just to upset Livia? Show some respect to your Luna!" I stared at them, fighting the agony tearing through my wolf. Livia let out a bored yawn. My father shot me a look of pure disgust. Hands shaking, I let out a cold laugh. They had no idea. That amulet wasn't just my mother's legacy. It was the pack’s only conduit to the Moon Goddess for the centennial ceremony. Without it, the entire pack was doomed.

Aria Crescent De Andrade is a teenage girl, whose life is next to perfect, until the woman whom she inferred to be her maternal aunt, revealed the shocking news of how they became family. Aria was shaken to the core and swore to exact revenge on her perpetrators. Henna De Andrade, Arias's guardian, had no idea who Aria was or where she was from. She took her in, only because she felt a connection to her the day she found her barely breathing, floating on a log in the river. The only distinctive feature about Aria was the crescent moon birthmark on her shoulder blade. Hence, Henna decided to put Crescent as Arias's middle name. Neither Henna nor Aria knew that Aria was a werewolf until they moved thousands of miles away to the West. For Aria, bit was the best opportunity to protect Henna from her revenge plan. What they both did not expect is to be mated to werewolves and get sucked into the world of supernatural beings. As aria had finally regained her memory, she knew who she was, but had no idea why her father would hurt her so badly and leave her to break to ever heal. As she discovers her powers, Arias's wolf is bloodthirsty and does not stop until all those who hurt her are brought to book. But meeting her mate and his family plays a great role in helping ease and heal her battered soul.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,

When my Alpha mate, Logan noticed I hadn't submitted a single expense request in three days, he reached out to me on his own for the first time ever. "Baby, I've already approved the next phase of your wolf's healing. See? As long as you learn to behave, there's nothing I won't give you." His tone was still so affectionate, as if he were truly a good Alpha, worried sick over his mate. But he didn't know that as his "Baby" flashed across my phone screen, I had already finished drafting the agreement to sever our mate bond. Before I left, the only thing I could take with me was the old T-shirt I had worn when he marked me. No one would ever believe that the beloved Luna of the Blackmoon Pack, in the three years since our bonding ceremony, couldn't even scrape together five decent dresses of her own. Every household expense I incurred had to be approved by the Luna's seal, the very symbol of my power. "Sienna, managing the books is too tiring. It will wear you out." "Just let Chloe handle the tedious work with the seal. All you have to do is be beautiful, be my perfect Luna." And so, the Luna's seal, which should have been mine, became something I had to beg for from Chloe, the Alpha's secretary who was supposedly "handling the tedious work for me." Three days ago, my wolf was on the verge of collapsing. I cried and begged him for the two hundred thousand needed for an emergency intervention. But Chloe deliberately withheld the seal, delaying approval by claiming improper procedure. Finally, my already fractured wolf went completely silent in the depths of my soul. And with that, I was done with this Alpha, too.