The Devil Son Novels & Stories

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

WARNING: This book contains mature content, explicit scenes, and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised. “Maybe… maybe I don’t ever want to be anyone’s wife again.” Betrayed. Banished. Broken. For eight years, Selena was the devoted Luna of the Knightstorm Pack, until her alpha husband branded her a whore, stripped her of their children, and cast her out. Years later, she’s risen from the ashes as a renowned artist, fiercely independent and done with men forever. But when her ex-husband discovers the devastating truth, that a cruel scheme made him punish the wrong woman, he will stop at nothing to win her back. His reckless, alcoholic brother has always wanted her too. And then there’s the powerful alpha trapped in a loveless open marriage, willing to burn down his twenty-year union the moment he scents his second-chance mate in Selena. Three alphas. One woman who swore she would never belong to anyone again. As old wounds resurface and new desires ignite, Selena must fight not only for her stolen children, but for the heart she thought was dead. Who will claim the broken Luna… and will she ever let any of them in?

Perdition and her brother are the children of Lucifer and Venus. They are born with an obligation to oversee Eden. However, their parents have no intention of allowing that to happen. The siblings are hidden in the underworld but lead completely different existences in that world, all the while believing their mother had perished. When a priest finds his way into the underworld, he sets into motion events that change everything. Perdition's brother escapes the underworld, leaving Perdition in a hell of of her own and seeks out his mother on the topside. Perdition eventually escapes and the ultimate journey begins.

Paige got pregnant by a bad boy in high school. Two years later, after many sacrifices and without having any contact other than phone calls, she and the father of her child reunite. Can they live together for the sake of their shared child? Can the bad boy not be so bad?

She was always the shadow. He was always chasing the light. Lavinia Hartwell had learned early that love was rarely for girls like her. She was the quiet one, the overlooked one—always second to her luminous best friend, Verity Langford. Even Henry Wynthorne, the boy whose compassion had unexpectedly caught her heart in high school, only had eyes for Verity. But years change people. Henry’s dreams of studying abroad collapsed with his father’s death. Verity left. Success became his only compass, and alcohol his only escape. And somehow, in the wreckage, there was Lavinia—never demanding, never judging, quietly holding him together in ways he never noticed… until she was gone. When an arranged engagement threatened to give her to him, Henry assumed she was being forced into it and set her free. Lavinia smiled, thanked him—and walked away, taking with her the steady presence he had taken for granted. Only then did Henry begin to notice the ache. The way her absence unsettled him. The way another man’s hand on her waist ignited a heat that was not anger, but something darker, sharper, and dangerously possessive. A single night blurred the lines forever—her lips on his, soft at first, then desperate, as though she’d loved him all her life. Desire flared, undeniable. But in the morning, she was gone again. Now, with Verity back and the past colliding with the present, Henry must face the truth: he no longer loves the woman he once chased. But has he realized too late who truly held his heart all along? Slow-burn, sensual, and laced with aching restraint, this is a story of unspoken devotion, of a man’s reluctant fall, and of the quiet girl who was never anyone’s first choice—until she became the only choice.

In my previous life, my sister thought that since my husband and I had high-paying jobs, she could swap her son with my child without anyone noticing. But twenty-five years later, the tables turned. My son had grown into a street thug, while her son—raised under my care—rose smoothly through life. Young as he was, he had already become a CEO. He was dutiful, bought me a villa, and even sent me traveling around the world. My sister barged into his company, waving a DNA test report, kicking up a scene, only to be thrown out by security. "Mr. Kieran said that even if you are his biological mother, you never gave him a single day of care," they told her. "So he refuses to acknowledge you." Breaking down completely, she drove her car into me and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, we had returned to the very day she switched our babies. This time, my sister clutched her own child tightly, a wild, triumphant grin on her face. "From now on, you can be the mother of a street thug," she sneered. "The villa and all those riches—they're mine!"

Over Labor Day weekend, my workaholic husband finally agreed to take our two kids on a beach vacation. I was out on the water with my son, Blake Warren, when the ocean surface suddenly exploded with 99 towering columns of water. Blake nearly tumbled into the sea from the shock, screaming as he clung to me desperately. From a yacht not far away came the cheers of my husband, Zachary Warren, and his secretary, Celeste Quinn. I gripped my phone tightly and called him. "Zachary, have you lost your mind? Stop this right now! Blake is here too!" Yet, he only sneered. "You wouldn't let Celeste come on this trip, and she's been upset for days because of it. She got her feelings hurt, so I have to make it up to her somehow. Besides, it'd be better if that bastard son of yours just died anyway. Then, he ordered someone beside him, "Fire 50 more torpedoes. Teach her a lesson she won't forget." Before he had even finished speaking, wave after wave of water columns erupted around my boat. As Blake was about to fall into the water, I screamed with every ounce of strength I had left. "Zachary! Stop this now! This is your own son, Blake!"

Nick Owen might be the biggest and strongest alpha wolf in the moonlight pack, but he is no better than the slave and servants, and that is because he was born a bastard. He soon finds out that his destined mate was none other than the rogue he had previously arrested, who at that moment claims to be his evil stepbrother's mate. He is heartbroken and promises to get back at her for picking his stepbrother over him. Kyle is the only daughter of her witch human mother and a wolf father that she has never seen. Her desperation to find her father leads her to a pack where she is forced to make an unpleasant deal in other to save her life. What happens when the bastard and the rogue find out that they are siblings? Could the moon goddess in her all-knowing wisdom make a mistake of matching them as mates or have they lied to their entire life? find out in this suspense-filled story.

I made a deal with the Devil. My soul, in exchange for seven days on earth after I died. The eleventh hour after my death happened to fall on our third wedding anniversary. The moment I walked through the door, he had just come home from another woman's place. He had an anniversary gift waiting for me. A set of sapphires. But the card tucked beside them bore another woman's name. I spotted a pale lavender hair tie in his hand. Once, I would have fought him over a hair tie like that, all the way from the front hall to the study. This time, I said nothing. It was him who froze instead, staring at me like I was a stranger. "You didn't used to be like this. I almost miss the way you used to fall apart over everything." He was right. The old me would have thrown a fit over something as small as him forgetting to cut my steak. But ever since the miscarriage, my heart had been dying by slow degrees. When I found out I was pregnant, I was overjoyed. I wanted him to be the first to know. But I couldn't reach him, no matter how many times I called. I lost the baby. I hemorrhaged. That very afternoon, while I lay on the operating table, a photo of him and that woman hit the entertainment headlines. He never even knew I had carried a child. Now there was only one last thing I wanted from him. To drive me up to the northern coast, and bury me with his own hands. But when he realized I had truly vanished from this world, he came undone.

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.