Rabbit
206 Published Stories
Rabbit's Books and Stories
Rejected Luna, Claimed by the King
Werewolf As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me.
Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King.
My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss.
His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Mafia On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
Bound to an Alpha Who Hates Me
Werewolf I arrived at the Blackwood Pack House as the bride in an arranged marriage, a political pawn meant to secure an alliance with their Alpha, Grayson Wilder.
His family treated me like trash from the moment I walked in. His sister then deliberately sent me to the wrong room-the Alpha's private chambers.
When Grayson found me in his bed, he didn't ask questions. He shoved me to the floor, his eyes glowing with rage as he accused me of being a social climber trying to trap him. His mother and sister watched from the doorway, their faces alight with triumph, ready to see me torn apart.
They had no idea I was there to save them, a secret deal made with the elders to prevent their pack from collapsing. I was the one with the power, hiding my true identity for their sake, yet they treated me like a stray dog who had wandered into their pristine home.
But when he truly looked at me, his rage faltered, replaced by shocked recognition.
He saw a ghost from a past he couldn't remember.
And I knew this war wasn't just for my survival, but for a truth he was terrified to face. I Signed the Divorce, He Lost Everything
Romance My wealthy husband, Nathaniel, stormed in, demanding a divorce to be with his "dying" first love, Julia. He expected tears, pleas, even hysteria. Instead, I calmly reached for a pen, ready to sign away our life for a fortune.
For two years, I played the devoted wife in our sterile penthouse. That night, Nathaniel shattered the facade, tossing divorce papers. "Julia's back," he stated, "she needs me."
He expected me to crumble. But my calm "Okay" shocked him. I coolly demanded his penthouse, shares, and a doubled stipend, letting him believe I was a greedy gold digger. He watched, disgusted, convinced I was a monster.
He couldn't fathom my indifference or ruthless demands. He saw avarice, not a carefully constructed facade. His betrayal had awakened something far more dangerous.
The second the door closed, the dutiful wife vanished. I retrieved a burner phone and a Glock, ready to expose the elaborate lie he and Julia had built. After Betrayal, She Claimed Her Empire
Romance Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered.
Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak.
She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her.
Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears.
Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home." You Called Me A Cripple: He Called Me His Wife
Modern For four years of marriage, my husband, Julian Crawford, had avoided me, repulsed by my crippled legs, never once willing to touch me.
And yet, in cruel contrast, my body betrayed me, my desires spiraling out of control.
During a gynecological exam, under the hands of a stranger—a male doctor—I lost control, soft, broken sounds slipping from my lips.
Outside the consultation room, my husband stood beside the woman he had never forgotten, Vanessa Whitmore, holding her in plain sight as he called me a "useless burden."
The doctor adjusted my skirt for me, his fingertips brushing slowly along the side of my thigh.
Then, in a low voice, he asked, "Do you want me to help you?" Burned By Him, Reborn A Star
Romance The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack."
Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard.
The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn.
"Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress. Healing My Seven Broken Beast Mates
Fantasy My retirement was finally approved, and I was supposed to be sipping drinks on a sunny beach.
Instead, a cold system voice forced me into a nightmare scenario: "Cursed Mates Who Want Me Dead." I woke up in a stinking cave, trapped in the body of a psychopathic tribal princess.
The memories that flooded my brain made me sick. The original owner of this body had forcibly marked seven of the continent's most powerful beast-men and reduced them to tortured pets. She had ripped the shimmering scales off Jordi the Merfolk prince, gouged out a proud wolf-man's power crystal, and snapped an eagle-man's magnificent wings.
Now, Jordi was a mutilated, terrified mess hiding in a corner. He was so traumatized that he tried to slit his own throat just to escape me. His sister was actively trying to assassinate me.
To make matters worse, the system warned me that if I didn't heal these seven ticking time bombs, my soul would be erased. Yet the future timeline clearly showed that these men would eventually unite, burn my tribe to the ground, and dismember me alive.
I was paying for a monster's sins. Every time I tried to show mercy, they thought it was a sick new torture method. Words were useless, and my very presence was a trigger.
But I am a Tier-S operative, and I don't play the victim. I forced the system to unlock my powers and strapped on my tactical gear.
"Stay here and don't starve."
I left the trembling Merfolk behind and walked into the deadly primitive forest, heading straight for the powerful Oasis Tribe to take back his stolen scales by force. My Fiancé Planned to Fake His Death, So I Married My Nemesis
Romance Three days before the wedding, Ryan Brooks threw himself a bachelor party.
He called it one last taste of freedom before marriage.
With the young intern, Lily Moore, locked tightly in his arms, his eyes brimmed with bitterness and grievance.
"Lily, trust me. I'm not marrying Clara Hayes. I've already arranged everything. I'll fake my death at the wedding and take you away from this place."
What Ryan didn't know was that this marriage had never been an equal match to begin with. It was the Brooks family that had begged the Hayes family for it.
Watching the two of them kiss like they couldn't bear to part, Clara calmly slipped the ring onto the finger of Ethan Blackwell, Ryan's sworn enemy.
Her red lips curved slightly as she spoke in a cool, steady voice. "Three days from now, come marry me." My Alpha's Heartless Contract Wife
Werewolf "Anya, a 'wolfless' in a world of powerful werewolves, was invisible, drowning her sorrows and desperately lonely. One drunken text, a desperate cry for attention, accidentally reached the Alpha, pulling her into his terrifying orbit. Now, she's trapped, a pawn in his game, forced to warm his bed while he waits for his true mate, her heart breaking with every stolen moment.
As a 'wolfless' in the Blackwood Pack, Anya felt like an outsider, always yearning for a connection. One night, in a drunken haze, a misdirected text meant for her best friend landed in Alpha Declan Blackwood's inbox: ""Send me something hot."" Minutes later, the most powerful, terrifying man in the Pack stood at her door, claiming her with a possessive kiss that ignited a dangerous, unwanted fire.
The next morning, his cold indifference shattered her world. Publicly humiliated and instantly fired, Anya became a pariah. Her dying mother's urgent need for a million-dollar heart transplant left her with an impossible choice: accept the Alpha's cold, transactional marriage proposal or watch her mother die.
She became his ""placeholder"" wife, a contract, not a partner, all while battling a confusing attraction to the man who treated her as property. Why did he demand her, only to remind her constantly of her worthlessness, especially when everyone knew he waited for his true mate?
Her world crumbled when she overheard Declan tell his returning ""true mate,"" Kristin Larsen, that Anya was ""just a substitute."" Despite the crushing betrayal and a strange, unyielding pull, Anya, fueled by her mother's desperate need, vowed to survive this gilded cage and reclaim her life before she lost herself completely."
My Sister's Lover, My Husband
Modern My life with Mark was perfect, a picture of happy marriage.
He and his identical twin, David, ran a thriving brewery, and together with my sister Jess, we were an unbreakable foursome.
Then, a shattering phone call.
David, always so full of life, had collapsed and died.
Weeks of agonizing grief followed, but the true nightmare began at a solemn family dinner.
Mark's mother, Brenda, demanded the unthinkable: I was to carry David's child for my sister, a vessel for the "Thompson legacy."
My own mother, always favoring Jess, twisted the knife, urging me to "be understanding."
I stood paralyzed, while Mark, my supposed anchor, vehemently defended me.
But that defense was a cruel facade.
One night, I found him in my guest room, not comforting my grieving sister Jess, but kissing her.
And then I heard it: "I want your baby, Mark. Openly. Not... not David's ghost."
Jess was pregnant with his child.
The man who swore to protect me was betraying me with my own sister, all while their desperate family tried to force me into a truly monstrous act.
Every loving gesture, every word of trust, twisted into a grotesque lie.
Was I truly so blind?
So easily manipulated?
Why me?
Why this profound and sickening betrayal?
That night, the naive wife died.
A cold, hard rage ignited.
I demanded a divorce, packed my bags, and moved halfway across the country.
But Mark, Jess, and their twisted family thought they could sweep me aside.
They were wrong.
I wasn't running; I was retreating to draw the battle lines.
This wasn't just about escape anymore.
It was about meticulously crafting the perfect retribution, a revenge so complete, they'd wish they never crossed me. After Exposing My Identity, My Ruthless Husband Begged for Love
Romance Sienna Sullivan entered the penthouse not as a bride, but as a business transaction to pay off her family's debts. Manhattan's most ruthless billionaire, Julian Vanderbilt, expected a submissive wife, but he purchased a woman who was secretly a global fashion icon and a lethal operative. When he finally tried to lock her in a gilded cage to "protect" her, Sienna didn't just walk away-she jumped from his moving Rolls-Royce to reclaim her own crown.
The arrangement was a psychological prison. Julian paraded fake heroines in her face, never realizing Sienna was the "Ghost," the soldier who had already saved his life in a war zone years ago. While she bled in the shadows to keep his empire from crumbling, he dismissed her as a mousy tutor.
The humiliation was absolute as her family mocked her as a "charity case" and Julian treated her like a fragile doll. He ignored the warrior who was the true power behind his throne, choosing to prioritize his own secrets over her safety.
She realized Julian didn't want a partner; he wanted a possession to hide in a vault. The discovery that he would never trust the woman beneath the mask was the final betrayal. He only loved the version of her he could control.
Sienna finally chose to burn the bridge. After neutralizing an assassin in a designer gown, she tossed her wedding ring into a puddle and vanished into the night. She wasn't running from the fire; she was going back to the desert to finish the war. The Queen has left the board, and the King is coming for blood. The Billionaire's Runaway Bride Is The World's Coveted Treasure
Romance She was a world-famous biologist of extraordinary genius, while he was the privileged heir to an elite family, renowned for his unmatched intellect and headline-making achievements.
She deliberately pursued him, treating their union as a calculated, high-stakes gamble to bear a child inheriting his brilliant mind and superior genes.
With her objective fulfilled, she planned to vanish without a trace, severing every tie. But he met her with a cold, mocking smile. "Leave whenever you like. But the child stays with me."
He initially dismissed her as a penniless opportunist-until he learned she was no ordinary woman, but a rare, coveted treasure chased by the world's elite. In reality, she ruled a billion-dollar empire as its mysterious CEO, wielded mysterious healing powers, and stood as an acclaimed global researcher whose work inspired awe.
Amid all her hidden layers, he was well aware of one thing-he would never agree to a divorce. Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises
Romance My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool.
For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office.
The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation.
My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order.
Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve.
Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one. Seven Years of Devotion: He Left Me to Die, I Left Him for Good
Modern On the seventh anniversary of my marriage, I, Clara Hart, received two "gifts."
One was an urgent alert from the embassy-armed conflict in Arkania was imminent, and all citizens were advised to evacuate immediately.
The other was a message from my husband, Adrian Foster, "Pack your things. Wait for me downstairs. Ten minutes."
I quickly packed an emergency kit and rushed downstairs.
People around me were already evacuating in a panic, yet Adrian was nowhere to be seen.
I called him, my voice trembling, only to be met with a cold, clipped response.
"The car's packed with confidential company documents. There's no room left. Sophie has a severe fear of war. I need to get her out first."
My blood ran cold. "What about me?" I asked, barely believing what I was hearing.
Adrian clicked his tongue impatiently. "Clara, stop being so dramatic. Just take the embassy bus. It's the same."
Explosions thundered in the distance, shattering everything I had believed in over the past seven years. Whatever love had once existed between us crumbled to dust.
I stopped waiting. Slinging the emergency pack over my shoulder, I turned and walked away into the chaos of war. Abandoned Wife, Billionaire Revenge
Romance My husband promised me forever, but gave me endless lies. On our anniversary, I found his secrets on social media, exposed by his mistress. He didn't just break my heart; he broke my entire world.
Seraphina sat alone in her opulent mansion, preparing their anniversary dinner, feeling the suffocating weight of her cold, hollow marriage.
An Instagram post from Tiffany Sloan then brazenly revealed Harrison's hand at a romantic dinner, shattering his flimsy excuses and exposing his blatant infidelity.
The betrayal turned Seraphina's despair into cold resolve. He gaslighted her, dismissed her pain, and reminded her she was "nothing." He chose his mistress over her dying brother, caused her to break an ankle, and finally abandoned her on a desolate street corner, stripped of dignity.
How could she have sacrificed her entire violin career for a man who so casually discarded her? Under that bridge, her foolish love died, leaving only a fierce desire for reclamation.
Shivering and alone, a faded flyer for a violin teacher caught her eye. It was a defiant whisper of her old self, a promise: Seraphina Vanderbilt was gone, and a new Seraphina was finally free. When Time Stopped, Love Was Lost
Modern My husband, Daniel Carter, was obsessive about time. He had to wake up at exactly 7:05, and breakfast had to begin at 7:15 sharp.
Even sex was limited to exactly thirty minutes. The second time was up, he pulled away and left.
That day, our daughter had a dangerously high fever, yet he still refused to leave.
Every second dragged by. I kept urging Daniel to hurry.
But he only ate his breakfast at his usual unhurried pace.
"My breakfast has to last a full ten minutes. Besides, children build stronger immune systems when they tough it out a little."
I touched my daughter's forehead, which was growing hotter by the minute, and urged him to give me the car keys so I could take her myself.
Daniel did not even look up. He slowly adjusted his tie and said, "Then I won't make it to the office by 7:50. Wait five more minutes. That's when I'm supposed to leave."
Just then, his phone rang. It was his assistant, Emily Morgan.
"Mr. Carter, I twisted my ankle. Could you come pick me up?"
His expression changed at once. He grabbed the car keys and rushed toward the door.
"I have something urgent to deal with. Call a cab yourselves."
The next day, he called and asked why we had not gone home yet.
I held my daughter's ashes in my arms, numb with grief.
"Our daughter can't go home anymore."
And neither could we. I Hid His Heir from My Alpha
Werewolf For two years, I was the Alpha's secret wife, a duty he resented. But the positive pregnancy test in my hand was a miracle, a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This baby, our heir, was supposed to be the bridge that finally mended our broken mate bond.
That night, he left without a word. I saw on a gossip site that he'd gone to pick up his ex-lover, Isadora. Reaching for him through our bond, I wasn't met with his usual coldness, but with her emotions bleeding through him-triumph and smug possession.
The next morning, I went to his office, ready to tell him about our baby, believing our child could fix us. But I stopped when I heard him talking to our Pack Healer about me.
The healer said I looked fragile, that he should care for his mate. My husband laughed.
"You seem to care for her more than I do," Demetri said, his voice dripping with ice. "Do you want me to give her to you? Take her. She's of no use to me."
My world shattered. I wasn't just unloved; I was a thing to be discarded. I looked down at the pregnancy report, the proof of the life inside me, and made a vow. He would never know about our child, and I would sever our bond myself.
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