Rosemary Kennedy Diary Novels & Stories

Seven days before our bonding ceremony, I overheard my mate joking with his friends. He had already moved our bonding from the snowfield altar I chose to the coastside grounds because Lyra liked the sea. But that was not the part that made them fall silent. What shocked them was that he had also prepared a Luna crown for her. One of them laughed nervously. “Changing the bonding site is one thing. Maybe Serena will forgive that. But the Luna crown? That’s different. For a woman, that crown means everything. Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave?” My mate only smiled, calm and certain. “It’s just a crown. Serena won’t care.” “She loves me. When has she ever refused me anything? She’s not going to throw a tantrum over something this small.” And for the first time, I realized he was right about one thing. I had loved him enough to forgive too much. But not anymore. So when the bonding day came and he stood at the coastside grounds calling for me again and again, I only watched the snow fall outside the window and thought: He was right. I did not make a scene. I did not demand an explanation. I just walked away without a word. He thought that meant it was nothing. He would only understand later that a woman who leaves in silence is not giving you another chance—she is leaving you with nothing but regret.

One week before I died, my mate’s childhood sweetheart returned to the Silver Ridge Pack. Damon Thorn stayed out all night. The next morning, he called me. “Serena is back. I’m rejecting you. Come home and accept it.” I coughed into my palm. “I’m at the healing center.” His voice turned cold. “What, are you going to say you’ve been poisoned and you’re dying?” He laughed once, sharp and cruel. “Save your lies, Aria. Even if you’re really dying, you still need to come back and end our bond.” I smiled bitterly and said, “Okay. I’ll come home now.” He didn’t know I was truly dying. I thought once I was gone, he would finally be happy with the woman he had loved all along. But on the day of my funeral, Damon abandoned his new bride. He came to my grave and fell to his knees.His hands shook as he touched my name on the stone. “Aria, open your eyes.” “Didn’t you say you were dying just to trick me?” “Then get up and lie to me again.”

Everyone in Frostmoon Pack knew that Cassian loved me. He stayed by my side through every heat cycle. On storm-heavy nights, he would shift into wolf form and coax me to sleep. Before the council of elders, he once declared: “Lyra is my only Luna.” So I had never imagined he would betray me too. The day I found out I was pregnant, I received a set of photos from his former lover. In them, Cassian was bare-chested, with fresh bite marks still visible along his neck. She sent only two lines: He does love you. But last night, he didn’t refuse me. I didn’t cry. I didn’t confront him. I only called my best friend. “Help me arrange a false death.” She was silent, then asked in a low voice, “Have you thought this through? You’re carrying a pup.” I touched my stomach. “I have.” “And contact the witch for me. I want my mate bond with Cassian severed.” Five days later, there would be a fatal wreck on the mountain road beyond the pack borders. When Cassian arrived, all he would find was the burned frame of the car and a handful of ashes that were supposed to be Lyra’s.

The marking ceremony had reached the moment when the Luna crown should be exchanged, but my mate in name only still refused to lower his head. Once Drake Blackwood bit the side of my neck and completed the marking, our 66th ceremony would finally become real. Yet his eyes stayed fixed on his phone, and he did not even look at me. All because his widowed sister-in-law, Scarlett Moore, had posted a claim-release statement an hour earlier. Her late husband had been Drake’s older brother. Under pack law, Drake was obligated to protect her. Attached to her post was a ticket for a private pack flight, showing that she would land in an hour. Drake suddenly rose and announced in a low voice to the elders and pack members that the marking ceremony would be postponed. Then he left me standing there alone, turning me into a joke before the entire pack. I calmly packed away the Luna crown, calmly apologized to the guests, and calmly saw everyone off. After that, I opened Scarlett’s latest post on the MoonNet feed. In the photo, Drake stood beside her, holding out a newly hunted moonstone. I gave a bitter smile and called my birth parents through the private pack link. “Father, Mother, I’m willing to come back now.” “I’ll accept the marriage alliance for the Frostvale Pack.”

Alpha Kael Blackthorn’s childhood sweetheart was pregnant. On the night of our ninth anniversary, he brought her home and spoke as if assigning ordinary household matters. “She’s carrying a pureblood heir. Her appetite is delicate, so her meals can’t repeat.” “She startles easily at night. Clear out your things and move into the guest room.” I said nothing. I picked up the suitcase I had packed long ago and walked toward the door. The house steward looked ready to stop me, but Kael only laughed. “Let her go.” “She won’t last three days before she comes crawling back.” That made everyone laugh. Right in front of me, they placed a ten-million wager that I would be back before morning, begging him to let me in. After all, for nine years, no matter how much he hurt me, I always came back. But this time, the black sedan outside had already been arranged. This time, I was really leaving.

Two years after Theron Vex claimed me as his Mate, he finally held his marking ceremony. But the woman was not me.. "The child Nora carries is of Pack blood. I have to give them a proper status," I heard Theron say to his friend. "I'm just helping her out. I love Elara. She just needs to wait a little longer." But he had been saying that for six months. Ever since his brother—Nora's mate—died, he had chosen Nora over me, again and again. The first time he postponed our ceremony, it was because Nora had just found out she was pregnant and the pregnancy was unstable. The healer said she needed bed rest and could not be left alone. The second time, because she had a checkup at the hospital. The third time, because she said she felt the baby move and she wanted him to feel it too. There was always a reason. There was always something more important than me. I thought about our first year together. The way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world. The way he told everyone I was his future Luna. The way he promised, “After the ceremony, you will be the Luna of the entire Pack.” I believed him. I waited. I kept waiting. Six months of waiting. Six months of “just a little longer.” I was tired. This time, I did not run to Theron and demand an explanation like I used to. I did not cry. I did not scream. I simply went home, packed my bags, and booked a plane ticket. Theron lost his mind later. He showed up at my research station in the Arctic, begging to make amends.

My younger sister’s wolf was unstable from birth. The pack healers called it frenzy sickness. Loud noises, blood scent, anger, fear, even a sudden shock could push her into a violent episode. So my whole life was put on silent mode. I could not laugh too loud. I could not cry where she could smell it. I could not even scream when I was hurt, because pain had a scent, too. My parents always held me with guilty eyes. “Nova, your sister’s wolf needs the whole family to stay calm. You are strong. You are steady. You can handle more than she can. Just this once, okay?” But “just this once” became my entire life. That day, I accidentally knocked over a tray of metal parts in my father’s forge. The crash echoed through the house. Iris screamed at once. Her eyes flashed red, and her claws tore through her palms. Father shoved me aside and rushed over to protect her; I hit the edge of the forge table so hard that something cracked deep beneath my ribs. There was no blood on my clothes. No wound they could see. I curled up on the cold floor and whispered, “Mom, it hurts.” My mother looked at me. For one second, I thought she would come. Then Iris screamed louder. Everyone ran to my sister. They thought the quiet daughter could wait. They did not know my broken rib had torn through my liver. They did not know I was bleeding where no one could see. By the time they finally remembered me, I had already died alone on the floor.

My fated mate shut me out of our bond for the ninety-ninth time just as the last spark of dragonfire inside me began to die. I walked into the Oath Hall of Obsidian Keep alone. Black stone stretched beneath my feet, cold enough to bite through my slippers, and every step made the cracked channels around my dragon core grind deeper into my chest. “I’m here to renounce the Obsidian Court and dissolve my life-bond with the Dragon Lord.” The clerk took in my bloodless face and lowered his voice. “Lady Ashton, once I set the seal, the Court will no longer be required to protect you. Are you certain?” My dragonfire had been unstable since birth, leaving me weaker than most dragonkin. When I was ten, my father adopted Cecilia. She had a gift for explaining every disaster in the gentlest possible voice until everyone believed I was the jealous sister who couldn’t stand to share. My parents hadn’t always been unloving. They had simply forgotten how to tell the difference between the daughter who was crying and the daughter who was lying. Cassian and I had been fated for years, yet he had never crowned me his Dragon Queen. He rarely took me to Court gatherings. Most of Obsidian Keep didn’t even know I was his mate. “That’s all right.” I swallowed the taste of blood and kept my voice steady. “I’ll be dead in three days.”

I was given a second chance on the day my mate chose another she-wolf over me. In my last life, I fought to keep him. I begged, argued, and stood in his way, only to watch him blame me for everything he lost. On the day of our bonding ceremony, he made me pay for loving him. This time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg. When he wanted to take her to the Frost Territory, I packed his bag myself. When she smiled behind his back and called me replaceable, I let her. If he loved her so much, I would step aside. But the day he finally realized I was no longer waiting at the altar, I had already walked into another ceremony, in another pack, beside a man who had never once made me feel second best. My old mate thought I was teaching him a lesson. He was wrong. I was setting myself free.

I had been secretly married to Vivian Grant, my CEO wife, for six years, yet she never once let our son call her Mom. After she missed his birthday again because of her male assistant, I finally put the divorce papers in front of her and walked away for good with our son. The woman who had always seemed so controlled finally fell apart. She stormed into the office demanding to know where I’d gone. But this time, neither my son nor I were coming back.