The Servant Sinopsis Novels & Stories

“The surgery starts in thirty minutes. Your heart matches Hazel perfectly - don’t be late.” For three agonizing years, Penelope played the quiet, obedient Omega in the Blue-Claw Pack, scrubbing floors like a servant while her billionaire husband, Julian, threw money at her to buy her absolute silence. She took the brutal degradation out of love for her fated mate , hiding a secret: she is actually the hidden Crown Princess of the Lycan King, possessing a latent genetic power capable of forcing ordinary Alphas to their knees. But when Julian demands she surrender her physical heart to save his scheming mistress, the invisible tether breaks. Penelope signs the ancient dissolution scroll , severing the fated bond with silver fire , and walks out into the freezing night - igniting an impending war between her royal lineage and the pack that dared to treat a queen like property. Bound by a cruel fated bond , Penelope became a broken shadow in a household that despised her, trading her royal crown for the soot and heavy labor of a low-ranking maid. She endured the icy, indifferent commands of Julian , the ruthless Alpha heir. While he spent his evenings enveloped in the desperate, manipulative pheromones of another woman , Penelope suppressed her own sovereign Lycan spirit , letting her hands bleed in silence just to ease the burden. Julian treated their marriage like a business contract , unaware that his "helpless Omega" bride was merely a substitute identity designed to escape the suffocating duties of the royal palace. The catch? While the Blue-Claw Pack attempted to freeze her bank accounts and strip her of every coin to force her submission , Penelope had never spent a single credit point of Julian’s wealth - her true financial and sovereign power remained completely locked behind the impenetrable borders of the Rogue King's domain.

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.

"If I knew I would lose all of it, I would have let you go from the beginning." Those were the last words Nadine said before collapsing from falling down the stairs. "If you had never been in my life, you wouldn't have lost it all." And the last thing she remembered was the cold face of her husband, who was disgusted to see her. Nadine thought it was the end of her life. And when she opened her eyes hell would await her. "Wait.. Why is it so comfortable in hell? And why is it similar to my room?" When Nadine opened her eyes she didn't feel any pain in her head and she was still wearing her nightdress. The sound of her mobile phone alarm made her startled. And what surprised her most, she found out the date on her phone. She returned three years ago. More precisely, one day before her wedding day with her husband. In disbelief, he circled her house, asking the servant what date it was. But they have the same answer. "God... Must be joking! Ha ha ha... For all day...." She laughed frantically. "If You want me to pay for my sin, choose before I've forced him to marry me." She bit her nail nervously and began to think. "I separated him from his lover once to marry me. Make an innocent man become a cheater and a despicable husband. Kill our unborn baby to get his attention. And end my life in misery. Now I have a second chance. I have to fix everything. Everything.... Maybe he and my unborn baby will forgive me and I won't die young." How can Nadine fix this mess? Can she get her husband's forgiveness? Or will she end up losing everything like before?

I thought being sold to pay my father's gambling debts was the worst thing that could happen to me. I was wrong. Dragged to an auction house for the supernatural elite, I became a blood servant to Lucian Aion, the coldest, most ruthless billionaire vampire in New York. He owns half the city, answers to no one, and treats humans like disposable toys. For two years, I survived his cruelty, his indifference, and the humiliation of being nothing more than his personal blood bag. I cleaned his penthouse, stayed invisible, and counted the days until my contract ended. But everything shattered the night I discovered I was pregnant. Impossible. Vampires can't have children with humans. Yet here I was, carrying what shouldn't exist. Before I could tell Lucian, I found him with Viviana Drakov in the council chamber, a pureblood vampire heiress and his ex-fiancée. She was pregnant too. And Lucian chose her. He threw me out into the streets like garbage, calling me a liar, a fraud, a desperate human trying to trap him. Fine. I'll survive. I always do. But three months later, when rogue vampires hunt me for the hybrid baby in my womb, Lucian comes crashing back into my life with a revelation that changes everything: I'm not human. I'm the last descendant of the Nightshade bloodline, vampire royalty everyone thought was extinct. My child isn't just a hybrid. It's the prophesied heir that will shift the balance of power in the supernatural world. And Viviana? She's been lying about everything. Now Lucian wants me back. His vampire council wants my baby. Viviana wants me dead. But they all forgot one thing: I'm done being anyone's victim. They wanted a war? They're about to get one.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself supposedly transmigrated to some ancient era. Every morning, before light touched the sky, someone would yank me out of bed to haul trash, chop wood, and do whatever filthiest job needed doing. Somehow, I'd become the lowest-ranked servant in the entire estate. The estate lord's son would climb onto my back and ride me around the courtyard like some pet he was proud to show off. Anyone in the household could hit me, kick me, or shove me aside, and not a single soul would speak up. Five years passed like that, so awful that I almost lost my mind, as if I were living in hell. Then one day, a group of servants cornered me. They didn't bother hiding their intention. The moment I saw their faces, I knew I was in trouble. Fists flew, boots landed, and everything blurred. Just before I passed out, I heard them whispering, "We're going to kill him if we keep this up." "Come on. This place only looks like some old noble estate. It's not an actual one. If he dies here, we're the ones who'll get dragged to court!" "Relax. Ms. Shaw will handle it. The idiot pissed off her childhood sweetheart. Getting tricked into this place is exactly what he deserves." Fear swallowed everything, and the world went dark. When I woke again, the lady of the house had conveniently "returned from visiting her family." The lord threw a grand celebration with tables full of food, wine flowing, and musicians playing like nothing had happened. I carried dishes into the banquet hall and lifted my head. Her face was the same as my wife's, Melissa Shaw. I set the final dish down, stepped closer, and in a voice only she could hear, asked, "Ma'am… are you enjoying your little game?"

Brynn Ashwood survived ten years as a servant in Greymire, beaten, starved, and invisible. She learned to endure the whip, to swallow her screams, to become nothing. Survival meant silence. Freedom was a fantasy she'd buried alongside her slaughtered pack. Then he felt her pain. Torrhen Ashford, the ruthless alpha of the Northern Territories, wakes one night to agony that isn't his. A rare pain bond, the kind that hasn't surfaced in fifty years, has tied him to a girl he's never met. Every bruise she earns, he feels. Every lash she takes, he bleeds. And he's done pretending he doesn't care. When Torrhen storms Greymire to claim her, Brynn doesn't trust him. Alphas don't save servants. They own them. But the bond doesn't lie, his rage when she's hurt, his gentleness when she breaks, the way he'd burn the world down to keep her safe. For the first time in a decade, she dares to hope. But hope is dangerous. Rodrick Vale, the alpha who destroyed her pack, won't let her go. To him, she's property. Proof of his conquest. And when the council rules that Torrhen violated territorial law by taking her, Brynn is forced to make an impossible choice: let one of Torrhen's wolves pay the blood price, or return to Greymire herself. She chooses hell. One year of servitude in exchange for the pack's safety. One year of surviving Rodrick's revenge. One year of Torrhen feeling every moment of her suffering through the bond, unable to save her, forbidden from crossing the border, slowly losing his mind. Some loves are fated. Some are forged in fire. Theirs was built on pain. And when her year is up, Rodrick will learn what happens when you hurt an alpha's mate.

I have been bound to Ryan Hardin for nine years. He is pureblood, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack. And I… I was chosen as nothing more than a “temporary Luna,” a political pawn to steady the pack’s power. In those nine years, he betrayed me countless times. The first time, on my birthday, he announced that the celebration belonged to another she-wolf he had just met. The second time, I brewed medicine for his injuries, only to be accused by the Elders of bewitching the Alpha. He didn’t defend me—instead, he ordered me to be whipped in front of the entire pack. The third time, I was three months pregnant. He stood there, watching as his childhood sweetheart pushed me down the stone steps. I lost our pup that day. Nine years. Three thousand two hundred nights. I endured his indifference, his humiliation, his contempt. Last night, at the Silverfang Pack’s full-moon feast, he openly entwined his hand with a young Omega’s while I sat abandoned at the far end of the Alpha’s table. Every gaze cut into me—wolves whispering, mocking, savoring the spectacle. It was his 200th betrayal. When the feast ended, Ryan didn’t even look at me. His words were sharper than fangs: “Don’t forget, your Luna title is only temporary.” At dawn, he descended the Alpha’s staircase, his voice cold and commanding as if I were a servant: “Prepare the council’s tea. Now.” I met his gaze without flinching, my voice steady, stripped of all submission. “I’m sorry, Alpha. That is no longer my duty.” He seems to forget—we were never bound by a mark. Ours was an agreement, nothing more. And today marks the third-to-last day before that agreement ends. I gathered the Luna emblem, the wedding ring, and our only wedding photo—and burned them all. In three days, I’ll leave this pack. I will return to the secluded Herbal Academy, reclaim my research. And this time, when I walk away, I will never return.