Love
Blossoms Besotted
The wisteria tree nestled into the western shade of a grove left long untended, was laden heavily with the works of spring, ripened during those fine, clear and warmly spent hours beneath promising blue skies the season used dotingly, lavishly, lovingly.
By Lark Hanshan2 years ago in Fiction
The Price of Silence (chap 7-9). Content Warning.
Catch up: Chapters 1-3 Chapters 4-6 7 I sit still like a statue in my chair. I am the dutiful nurse once more, sitting beside an ailing Senator. Senator Peters' flu has progressed to pneumonia. The doctors and I are wearing masks which seems to deeply offend him.
By CT Idlehouse2 years ago in Fiction
Echoes of Loyalty
Echoes of Loyalty The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the quiet suburban street. Emily sat on her porch, her hands clasped tightly together, her eyes red and swollen from tears. Next to her, a worn leash lay coiled, a painful reminder of happier times.
By Abdul Qayyum2 years ago in Fiction
First Time Lover
The first time I fell in love was like stepping into a world I never knew existed. Her name was Pooja, and she had an aura of warmth that drew me in like a moth to a flame. We met in the quiet corner of a bustling bookstore, where our shared love for literature sparked a conversation that would change my life forever. With each word she spoke, I found myself captivated by her intelligence and wit. Her laughter was like music to my ears, filling the air with joy and possibility. Who would have thought I would fall so cheaply, don't blame me if you've never fallen in love, lol. As we spent more time together, exploring the pages of novels and sharing our dreams, I realized that I had found someone who understood me in a way no one else ever had. Every moment with Pooja felt like a treasure, each smile and touch goes into my memory and settled there. And when she looked into my eyes, I knew that I had found love in its purest form. But as quickly as it began, our time together came to an end, leaving me with a bittersweet ache in my heart. Though our paths diverged, the memory of that first love remains a cherished chapter in the story of my life, a reminder of the beauty and wonder that love can bring.
By Deji Akomolafe2 years ago in Fiction
My Lycan Mate Rejection
CHAPTER 1: Chosen mate Magnus’s POV “Have you considered taking a chosen mate, Magnus?” my mother inquired, making me roll my eyes. Your age is 22. Choose a fierce she-wolf to be Luna. I kept chopping my meat without looking at my mother. Skol roared. He loathed the idea of selected mates. We awaited our match. “Leave him alone, Mira,” Gabriel, my mother's new partner, urged. “He already told you he wants to wait for his fated mate.” Gabriel received a little nod from me. I didn’t like him. I had nothing against the guy, yet something about him never felt right with me. My mother married him two years ago. He wasn’t a Lycan like my mother and myself. I never understood why my mother wanted to marry him, but it wasn’t my concern, so I never got involved. I tolerated Gabriel because I had to. Some of our pack members scowled at the fact that Gabriel was only a werewolf and not a Lycan like my mother and me. Technically, that was true. What my pack members didn’t know was that Gabriel possessed Lycan DNA, but his Lycan never woke up. It didn’t matter to me anyhow. He wouldn’t be able to become the Alpha of my pack even if he were a Lycan. Something was wrong with Gabriel today. He appeared distant and a bit scared. “Gabriel, honey, stop worrying,” my mother muttered as she clasped his hand in hers. “Everything is going to be okay.” Gabriel looked up at her and grimaced. “How can you say that?” he replied with a trace of irritation in his voice. What the heck happened? “What the hell is going on?” I inquired before my mother could say anything else. My mother and Gabriel gazed at each other. Gabriel groaned, ran his fingers through his hair, and glanced down at his plate. My mother stared at me, and I raised an eyebrow at her. “Gabriel’s fated mate is dying,” my mother whispered, causing my eyes to widen. I looked at Gabriel. I was so fucking bewildered. “I thought that you didn’t find your fated mate,” I murmured, choking back a snarl. I despised wolves that betrayed their fated mates. A partner was a gift from the Goddess. A partner was meant to be adored and treasured. What the heck was he doing here with my mother if his fated partner was out there somewhere?! Gabriel glanced up at me and took a long breath. “I did find her,” Gabriel murmured. “I just never marked her.” My perplexity evolved into a surprise. How the heck did he manage to hold back from marking his mate? I was so fucking convinced that I would sink my fangs into her neck as soon as I met her. “I was young and stupid,” Gabriel groaned, staring back down at the table. “I thought that my Lycan would surface. I waited for it to happen. I was the only one with Lycan genes in my pack, and I imagined that once I received my Lycan, I would be able to accomplish so much more than simply be a Beta of my pack.” Gabriel stopped talking and groaned. “I met my mate,” Gabriel said. “I promised her that I would mark her as soon as my Lycan appeared. Except it never occurred. I grew more and more frustrated. I became so fucking mad. I spent my days intoxicated on whiskey laced with wolfsbane. I was continuously furious. She continued asking me to mark her, but I never did.” Gabriel stopped talking and stared at my mother. “So you don’t have a mate bond with her?” I questioned. “No,” Gabriel answered as he stared at me. “I wouldn't be able to mark your mother if I did.” Chosen mates and second mates might also mark each other. The mark wasn’t as potent as it was when it was bestowed by a fated mate, but it still possessed power. “But you are bound to her, aren’t you, Gabriel?” my mother remarked with a tinge of bitterness in her voice. I furrowed my eyebrows. What the hell was she talking about? How could he be linked to a lady he never marked? “I am,” Gabriel murmured. “How?” I questioned, narrowing my gaze at him. “I have a child with her,” Gabriel replied, glancing at me. My eyes expanded. He had a child? “I got her pregnant when I still thought that I would mark her,” Gabriel confessed. “I left her when my child was 2 years old.” My eyes expanded even more. The little respect I had for Gabriel crashed to the ground. “I feel so fucking guilty,” Gabriel murmured as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t seen my daughter in 15 years, and now…” He stopped talking and took a long breath. “You have a daughter?” I questioned, attempting to disguise my mounting wrath. “Yes,” Gabriel nodded. “She is 17 years old. Her name is Selene.” “And her mother is dying?” I said, straining my fists. “Yes,” Gabriel answered. “She has cancer. She contacted me a few days ago, imploring me to take Selene in when she dies.” “You are going to do it,” I said. It wasn’t a question. It was a freaking order. He would do it. He wouldn't just let a 17-year-old girl alone. He had done enough harm enough. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Magnus,” my mother remarked, making me snarl. “Why the hell not?” I said, furious at my mother. “Gabriel and I aren’t that young anymore,” my mother lamented. “I’m not sure that we could handle a 17-year-old girl.” I grumbled and stared at Gabriel. “You are not leaving your child alone again,” I replied. “What pack is she in?” “My old pack, Riverstone,” Gabriel remarked. I knew about that pack. I visited it five years ago with my father. It was just a few months before Dad died, and that trip was one of my best memories with him. “Don’t make the same mistake again, Gabriel,” I murmured as I rose. “You already left your child once. Don’t do it again.” I stepped away from the table. I needed to get away from them. I was so fucking angry with Gabriel. How could he do that to his fated mate and his child?! I would adore my fated partner more than anything else in the world. She would be so fucking adored and protected. I would never do what Gabriel did. Never. “Mom, please, you have to take the pills,” I groaned, attempting to encourage her to open her lips. We’ve been at this for about an hour now. I was trying to convince her that she needed her medicines, and she was pushing them away and yelling at me that she didn’t want them. She pushed my hand away, and a handful of tablets spilled all over the floor. I groaned and got down on my knees to gather them up. “Don’t bother, Selene,” my mom replied. “I’m not taking them.” I looked up at her. I wanted to shout. She didn’t have to be in anguish! She was lying in her bed, gripping her tummy, and weeping silently. She was soaked in perspiration. Her white nightgown was moist, and it was adhering to her body. She was pale and so fucking skinny. I could barely persuade her to eat anything. She lost all of her hair months ago. It was incredibly hard for me to see her without her hair, her eyebrows, and her eyelashes. It was the first time I recognized that my mom was unwell.
By Chiamaka Aniekwe2 years ago in Fiction
Iteration
They are waiting for us at dusk in the neglected park on the edge of town. I touch Zara's shoulder. The Hum gets louder when I do. It always does, but for the first time, I can hear the Murmur that Zara has always claimed to whisper inside of it. Finally hearing it would be a thrill to me except for the thugs that posture before us, blocking our way. One of them sniggers like a moron.
By Mark E. Cutter2 years ago in Fiction
WHISPERING WOODS
My name is William Kristof, but people know me as Woody. I live in the little green house on the edge of the river with my Grandfather. Whispering Woods is the name of our village. Mainly because of the legend, whispers of a ghost that tarries here. Many still hear it on long hikes throughout the forest. Campers, hikers, and even the wild teens after the Friday night football game a county over venture out here to let loose. There have been record of the whispers, including myself at times. Most people just come out for the thrill, even the tourists.
By Natasha Collazo2 years ago in Fiction
Dainty Dairy Narratives
Precious memories, stored in the form of small stories, continue to exist as we share those memories. That is what I believe. I store such stories in my diaries, and now I will share those stories with you. Welcome to Dainty Dairy Narratives.
By Arjun Sahasya2 years ago in Fiction
Unveiling the Recipe of Love: Decoding the Core
The Irresistible Recipe: Unveiling the Core Content of Romance StoriesFrom timeless classics like "Pride and Prejudice" to the latest steamy contemporary novels, romance stories have captivated readers for centuries.
By bishnu prasad2 years ago in Fiction
