The Perfect Bond

While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her

Katie Oettgen

As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.

Romance Crime Revenge Pregnancy Enemies to Lovers Pregnancy Personal Growth

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🐺✨ The Night of the Red Moon

Approx. 600–900 words (I can make it longer if you prefer more detail.)

The moon should not have been red.

Lyra Hale stood at the edge of the forest, her breath frozen in her throat as the sky pulsed with a strange crimson glow. The air smelled of metal and smoke, as if the night itself had bled.

Her village had gone silent-too silent.

Then the first howl shattered everything.

It wasn't the normal cry of the forest wolves she grew up hearing.

This one was deeper. Older. Hungry.

Lyra's heart slammed against her ribs. She clutched her small satchel of herbs and took a step back, but a blur of silver-grey fur burst from the trees, knocking her off her feet. Claws dug into the ground beside her face.

A rogue wolf. Taller than a man. Its eyes glowing like dying embers.

It snarled, inches from her throat.

Lyra shut her eyes-

But the attack never came.

A violent gust of wind tore across the clearing. Something massive slammed into the rogue, throwing it away from her. Branches snapped. The ground shook.

Lyra scrambled backward, her hands trembling, as a shadow larger than the wolf stepped into the red moonlight.

Not a wolf.

Not a man.

Something in between.

His fur was black with streaks of glowing silver running across his limbs like molten metal. His eyes-silver, cold, and burning-locked on hers for a split second before he lunged at the rogue with a deafening snarl.

The fight was brutal and fast.

When it ended, the rogue lay dead at his feet.

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