True Bond Novels & Stories

My adopted sister, Victoria, possessed a fiercely powerful wolf spirit. She was the sole hope for our endangered Silver Moon Pack. In contrast, though I was the Alpha's biological daughter, I was just an Omega. It wasn't until I turned twenty that I finally awakened a wolf spirit, and it possessed nothing but simple healing abilities. From that day on, my three older brothers forced me to become her personal blood slave. After enduring the extreme torture of the Full Moon Trials for the eighth time in her place, my wolf spirit was on the verge of being torn apart. Dragging my broken, battered body, I questioned them hoarsely. Chris, my eldest brother, sneered. "Victoria has suffered since she was a child, while you grew up in luxury. You're just taking a fraction of her pain for her. How is that unfair?" Aidan, my second brother, had ice-cold eyes. "Your talent, temperament, and wolf spirit can't compare to Victoria's in any way. You should be grateful for the chance to lift her." Evan, my third brother, shoved me to the ground. "It’s not like we're asking you to die for her. We raised you for years. Is this how you show your gratitude?" To punish me for my "willfulness," they threw me into the forbidden snake pits. As sharp fangs pierced my neck, the long-dormant system voice suddenly echoed in my mind. "Warning! Fatal venom detected. The host is in critical condition! Would you like to terminate the mission to redeem the three Silver Moon brothers, instantly leave this world, and return to reality?" With the last of my strength, right before my wolf spirit shattered completely, I nodded. From that moment on, every bond tying me to the three Silver Moon brothers was severed. We would never meet again, in life or in death.

I'm the heiress of the elite Graham family, and yet my life is like hell. After all, the rolls of fat keep clinging to my body. No matter how hard I try, I can never get rid of them. Even if I don't eat for the entire day, my weight still rises exponentially. When I'm on the verge of dying from organ failure, I see my parents showing up with the adopted daughter, Freya Graham, in front of my sick bed. Freya covers her nose while gazing at me with a mixture of smugness and disgust in her eyes. "Thank you so much for taking the brunt of the misfortune for me, Dakota! Otherwise, I'll be the one plagued by the fat! "Then again, you've already had it good. You've lived a lavish life for many years, after all. This lifestyle is something that you can never experience for the rest of your life!" I widen my eyes in shock. But it's because of my overwhelming emotions that I can't breathe at all. In the end, I die tragically with hatred in my eyes. It turns out I'm just the fake heiress who the Grahams have adopted. My purpose is to shoulder the misfortune that's meant for Freya this whole time! She gorges on food every day, only for all of her fat to accumulate on my body instead! When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the first day when I start putting on weight like mad. In this lifetime, since Freya doesn't want the body fat this badly, she might as well live her life as a living skeleton!

Steven Zimmer, the assistant of my wife, Lucy Quinn, has lost in a truth-or-dare session. Lucy doesn't hesitate to file for a divorce from me for the ninth time. In the courthouse, I hear the staff member asking Lucy curiously, "Your husband is like a well-trained dog now. You've already married and divorced him nine times! Aren't you worried that your husband might ditch you for real?" Lucy merely smirks at her. "Do you know that the more ruthless you are when you abandon your pets, the harder it'll be for them to live without you? In fact, they will just become more obedient and docile. As long as I curl a finger at him, he'll definitely sink down to his knees and beg me to remarry him." Everyone bursts into laughter after that. They bet that I'll plead pathetically to Lucy to remarry me for the tenth time in less than a day after I've obtained the divorce certificate. Lucy even declares that she'll stream the tenth wedding proposal on the Internet when it happens. But the next day, Lucy keeps waiting for me to show up at the city hall while clad in a wedding dress. All she gets is a text from me. "No more proposals. This is the end between us, Lucy."

Eight years ago, my cousin Wendy Cooper was involved in a drunk driving hit-and-run. Yet, my parents made sure all the evidence pointed toward me. The victim's family waited outside my school every day with gasoline, threatening to die with me. Because of that, the school took away my guaranteed admission to university. That day, my parents and brother all tried to persuade me. "Wendy's terrified. Just give her your spot to make her feel better." I refused, fought back, and even tried to talk them out of it. But the next day, they handed me over to the police themselves. Lance Stewart, my fiance and a powerful business tycoon, had orchestrated it all. As he was afraid I'd run or cause trouble, he personally pinned several charges on me and sent me to an isolated island prison. He left me with no way out. When my sentence began, he made me a promise. "Esme, just endure it for a few years. I'll get you out once Wendy graduates, and then we'll get married."

I was the heiress switched at birth by a nanny. It was not until I turned eighteen that my biological parents finally found me, and traded me back for the girl they had raised and loved as their own. However, fate played a cruel joke that very same week. My parents died in a car accident. The family business collapsed. In one night, I lost everything. My older brother survived, but his kidneys failed. I did not hesitate. I gave him mine. However, grief broke something in him. Blaming me for our parents' deaths, he spiraled into madness. "You killed Mom and Dad! Why wasn't it you who died instead?" he screamed. I gave up college and took on three jobs a day just to pay for his treatment. Years passed. One day, while cleaning a mansion as a housekeeper, I saw her, the "sister" I was traded for, gliding through a lavish party, dressed in designer clothes and dripping in jewels. I froze when I heard the voices I had long thought silenced. My parents, alive, speaking to her as gently as ever: "Jasmine, you're so compassionate… agreeing to end Helen's punishment early." My brother, the one who should still be seeing a therapist, frowned and objected. "No. Not even a day less. Just because she suffers a little doesn't mean she deserves to live." I glanced down at the medical report still warm in my hands. For the first time in years, I smiled. "Perfect," I whispered. "Now I can finally die like I wanted to."

After I was kicked out of the house, my sister, Nicole Thompson, and I met at a nightclub five years later. She was the VIP client who spent millions to celebrate Michael West's, her godbrother's, birthday, while I was the male host in the hype team. We didn't talk to each other the whole time until she saw me chugging two bottles of whiskey for a 500 dollar tip. When she saw my pallid face, she questioned coldly and unhappily, "You'd rather do this disgusting job than come home and apologize? Jack, you really are unbelievable!" I just smiled indifferently and held out my hand to her. "500 bucks. Cash or Venmo?" Times had moved on, and I no longer wished to bring up past grudges. However, the 500 dollars I had just earned was just enough for me to pay the balance due for my cremation urn.

My wolf had been wounded by silver. It took me two years to find a rare herbal cure. But before I could use it, my mate, Gary, gave it away—without hesitation—to my adopted sister, the Black clan’s darling, Jane. The healer told me I had only one week left to live. So, I made a decision: I would freeze my body. Preserve it. I donated myself to Jane’s Werewolf Research Facility—the one she took such pride in. The day I signed the donation agreement, my pup threw himself into my arms and said, “Mommy and Aunt Jane are finally getting along again!” My parents praised me, saying I had finally learned what sisterhood meant. Gary looked relieved. “You’ve finally let go of your resentment,” he said. “I’m proud of you.” I smiled faintly. Yes. I’ve finally learned to obey. I would return the title of Black clan heiress to Jane, and did my best to grant everyone their wishes. But it was only when they realized I could no longer fight back— when my body had been sealed away in cryostasis, cold and silent— that the regret began. Suddenly, they wanted to bleed for me. They wanted to compensate. They wanted to follow me into the grave. But where were they when I needed them, when I was still alive?

The human traffickers were apprehended, and after DNA verification, the police returned me to my affluent parents. My parents gave a cold nod, thanked the officers, and instructed the butler to make me comfortable. Two months after returning home, the fake heiress, Irene Burrel, secretly signed me up for a wilderness survival course. My parents gently stroked her head. “Since you want to play, let her accompany you.” They did not care one bit if I died out there. Irene smirked triumphantly at me. “What does it matter if you’re the real heiress? I can still do whatever I want with you! “Survival training is my daily routine. I’ll make sure you leave that competition on a stretcher!” When we arrived at the wilderness training grounds in the mountains, I laughed. I grew up in these very forests. Did she think I did not know this place?

I'm dying at seven months pregnant, and the one behind it is my husband. Hearing that a premature baby's blood can save my sister, he conspires with a shady clinic to take the baby out through surgery. After draining the baby's blood, he walks away—leaving my fragile preemie to die. Later, my parents say, "You owe Yvie. It's time to repay her." My husband says, "We can always have another child. A baby's life can't possibly be more important than Yvie's, can it? The overwhelming rage and grief cause me to bleed to death. My soul floats above them as I watch them prepare my sister's surgery. They don't even bother to change me into clean clothes. No one mourns me. No one loses their mind over my death. Without a care, they wheel me into the morgue and celebrate Yvonne's recovery. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back three months earlier—to the day my whole family forced me to divorce.

On her eighteenth birthday, the long-lost heiress, Cassie Bailey, was finally tracked down by her mother, Ann Moore, CEO of the Bailey Group. However, Cassie refused to come back with her. Instead, she chose to remain adopted by a man living on government assistance. “So what if you’re rich? The bonds ordinary people share can’t be measured with money. Since you weren’t there for me for the past eighteen years, then I won’t acknowledge you for the next eighteen years either!” [Oh my God, she’s such a queen. That fearless, untouched-by-materialism energy is exactly why we love her.] [But her mother is literally the richest woman in Orkta. Is turning that down really a good idea?] The richest woman in Orkta? I shook my head and rubbed my eyes several times before finally accepting the fact that I could somehow see those floating comments. Well, if Cassie did not want a life of unimaginable wealth, I was more than happy to take her place. As everyone watched in stunned silence, I shoved my way through the crowd and grabbed Ann’s hand. “Mom, are you here to take me home?”