Shi Huatu
12 Published Stories
Shi Huatu's Books and Stories
Rejected Princess, Rising From The Ashes
Werewolf For three years, I scrubbed tables as a "wolfless runt," hiding my identity as the Lycan King's daughter.
It was a test for my fiancé, Alpha Connor. I wanted to see if he loved the girl, or just the crown.
He failed spectacularly tonight.
His mistress, Jaden, deliberately knocked a tray of drinks onto me during the dinner rush.
The liquid wasn't alcohol. It was concentrated silver.
My flesh hissed and bubbled as the poison ate through my skin, blocking any ability to heal.
I fell to the floor, clutching my melting hand, while Jaden faked tears and claimed I attacked her.
When Connor finally answered the video call, he saw my mangled hand. He smelled the burning flesh. He knew it was silver.
But he didn't help me.
He looked at his watch, annoyed that I was interrupting his business meeting with investors.
"Apologize to Jaden," he ordered, using his Alpha Command to crush me into submission.
"On your knees. Now."
The pain was blinding, but the betrayal cut deeper. He was forcing his Fated Mate to bow to the woman who tried to maim her.
My knees bent under the pressure, but my Royal blood refused to break.
I looked straight into the camera lens.
"No," I whispered.
I reached into my apron, bypassing the notepad, and pulled out a black satellite phone I hadn't touched in years.
"Code Black," I said to the King on the other end. "Send the Guard."
Connor thought he was disciplining a waitress.
He didn't know he just declared war on the Royal Family. A Contract Marriage With My Nemesis
Romance My fiancé always told me he loved me. But not long after our engagement, I woke up suffocating in the dark.
He was pressing a pillow over my face, his eyes cold and dead, while my half-sister stood by watching with fake pity.
They had orchestrated everything just to steal my trust fund.
It all started with a massive hotel scandal. They had drugged me, thrown a cheap escort into my bed, and brought a mob of paparazzi to ruin my reputation.
When my fiancé broke through the crowd, playing the heartbroken victim, he knelt down with a massive diamond ring.
"I know things have been hard, but I love you. If you come home with me, I will forgive all of this."
In my past life, I cried tears of gratitude and let him slide that ring onto my finger.
That ring sealed my death warrant. I lost my company, my dignity, and eventually, my life.
Until my lungs burned and my heart stopped, I didn't understand.
How could the people I trusted most plot my murder so ruthlessly?
Why did they have to tear my entire life apart?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning of the hotel scandal, exactly one year ago.
But the man lying bare-backed in my bed wasn't a random escort.
It was Johnathan Chase, my family's biggest corporate rival and the most ruthless predator on Wall Street.
Listening to the paparazzi pounding on the door, I smiled coldly. The Billionaire's Secret Midnight Obsession
Modern I was a broke freelance copywriter, tortured for three sleepless nights by an impossible corporate client.
Needing to vent, I typed out a wild, highly inappropriate rant mocking the brand's stiff heritage.
But in my exhausted, sleep-deprived blur, I accidentally sent the massive block of text to the wrong chat.
The recipient wasn't my friend. It was Emerson Beard, the elite, ruthless brand consultant I was supposed to desperately network with.
I waited for the professional execution, terrified of the massive five-figure penalty fee hanging over my head.
Instead, he didn't block me. He critiqued my unhinged draft.
He saved my career through late-night, encrypted phone calls, his deep, commanding voice becoming my only lifeline.
But when I heard a woman with a sultry French accent knocking on his hotel door during our call, my ugly jealousy flared.
I yelled at him and hung up, completely humiliating myself.
I thought I was just a pathetic, annoying workaholic interrupting his romantic getaway.
But he texted back to clarify he was entirely single, and in the process, realized I was actually twenty-five, not a fresh-out-of-school teenager like he had assumed.
The cold, distant mentor instantly vanished.
In his place was a man radiating a raw, aggressive, and predatory energy that bled right through the screen.
"Texting is too inefficient. The full integration requires face-to-face communication."
He dropped a location pin for an ultra-exclusive Manhattan club, demanding I meet him to save my contract.
Wearing a desperately bought emerald silk dress, I pushed open the heavy oak door, stepping right into the trap of a man who had just taken off his leash. The Secretary He Rejected Is The Alpha King's Daughter
Werewolf For seven years, I suppressed my Alpha aura and took sickening drugs to pass as a human secretary.
All to win a bet with my father, the Alpha King, that Dante loved me for my soul, not my bloodline.
But tonight, Dante proved me wrong in the most public way possible.
While I sat in a taxi, a Times Square billboard lit up with his face. He wasn't working late as he claimed.
He was holding a waitress named Lola, announcing her as his future Luna because she could "breed strong pups" and I was just a "useful tool."
When I arrived at the office to confront them, Lola didn't just mock me. She slapped my face and smashed my mother's silver locket under her heel.
She laughed, thinking she had destroyed a cheap trinket belonging to a weak human.
"You are prey, Seraphina," she sneered. "And you are trespassing in the wolf's den."
She didn't realize that the locket wasn't protecting me from them. It was protecting them from *me*.
With the seal broken, the air in the room instantly dropped twenty degrees. My eyes shifted from brown to glowing liquid silver.
They thought they were discarding a broken secretary. They had no idea they had just declared war on the Royal Family.
I picked up the phone and dialed the most feared number in the werewolf world.
"Papa," I said, stepping over the shattered silver.
"The masquerade is over. Bring the helicopters." The Transactional Marriage: Her Bitter Ascent
Modern The first time my husband, Gregory, chose a billion-dollar deal over my father' s funeral, I knew our marriage was a transaction. But when he started canceling meetings for an actress named Kennedy, I realized he was capable of love-just not for me.
Then came the whispers of his devotion: buying her a theater, brawling with a director who criticized her. My investigation led to a "warning"-a hit-and-run that left me hospitalized. His assistant's message was chilling: "Accidents do happen."
At the police station, after he'd been in another fight for her, Kennedy pointed at me and wailed, "Make her kneel! Make her apologize for breathing the same air as us!"
Gregory' s cold eyes met mine.
"Christie," he commanded, his voice deadly quiet. "Kneel." Shattered Vows: The Don's Runaway Queen
Mafia I was the Queen of New York, the untouchable wife of the city's most feared Mafia Don, Liam Goldstein.
But my throne was built on quicksand.
It started with a photo of a hotel receipt and a tangle of lingerie sent to my phone. It ended with a listening device I planted, hearing my husband tell his mistress that I was just a "decoration" while she would bear his heir.
The humiliation reached its peak at the charity gala.
His mistress, Ava, marched in wearing my jewelry, claiming my husband in front of the city's elite.
When I tried to leave, Liam grabbed me. I fell.
I hit the floor hard, and the pain in my stomach was blinding.
I lay there on the ballroom parquet, bleeding out in my white gown, losing the unborn son Liam claimed he wanted more than anything.
But he didn't kneel to help me.
Terrified of a scandal, he shielded his mistress from the paparazzi and walked away, leaving me to die amidst the champagne and diamonds.
I woke up in a hospital bed with an empty womb and a "sorry" check from his lawyer.
He thought money could fix a dead child. He thought I would just go back to being his ornament.
He was wrong.
That night, I initiated the Phoenix Plan.
I planted my DNA in a car wreck, drove it to the docks, and watched it explode into a fireball.
To the world, and to Liam, Maya Goldstein is dead.
But I’m very much alive. And I’m going to burn his empire to the ground. My Heart, His Spare Part
Modern My bodyguard, Grant, took the full force of a speeding car meant for me. In that moment, I realized I loved him. He was my protector, and I thought his fierce devotion was mine alone.
But in the hospital, I overheard the truth. He hadn't saved me; he'd saved my kidney.
I wasn't the woman he loved. I was just the "best option" for his sick sister's transplant.
Every tender gesture, every watchful glance, was a lie designed to keep his organ donor safe and compliant. The man I adored saw me as nothing more than a collection of spare parts.
The love I thought we shared was a carefully constructed trap, and I had been the fool who walked right in.
The girl who believed in fairy tales died in that sterile hospital hallway. I picked up my phone, my hand steady.
"Dad," I said, my voice cold as ice. "I'm ready to consider the alliance with the Powell family." Betrayal's Scars, A New Beginning
Romance Today was my ninth wedding anniversary, and I lay in a hospital bed, recovering from a hysterectomy.
My husband, Mark, sent a diamond necklace, but instead of him, a young woman' s voice answered his phone.
"This is Emily. Please, don' t do this to Mark."
Her tearful plea implied she had picked out my anniversary gift with him.
He then agreed to a divorce-eagerly, relieved-hanging up before I could speak.
He never showed up at the courthouse.
He promised to meet me. He broke that promise.
Two months later, he stumbled home, drunk, offering me a luxury watch as if it could erase his betrayal.
"A divorce? We' re not getting a divorce," he slurred.
I saw him days later, laughing intimately with Emily at a café, while I was dealing with more than just a broken marriage.
"I have uterine cancer."
The words were out, shattering the fragile peace.
"You have cancer and you' re telling me now? How could you keep that from me?" he shouted, not out of concern, but anger at how it looked.
He raged about losing control, about how this affected him, not once asking about my pain.
I had been alone in a hospital bed, recovering from surgery, while he was at a gala with Emily, the "close companion," the night of my surgery.
He thought I was making a scene, when he was the one who had brought Emily to his parents' home, to Lily' s birthday party.
His mother praised Emily, who' d planned my daughter' s party.
They all stood there, a united front: Mark, his parents, and his mistress, making me the villain.
His cruelty was breathtaking.
"She' s just bitter," he announced to the silent room. "She' s bitter because she' s not a complete woman anymore. She had to have a hysterectomy. She has cancer. She can' t have any more children. She' s broken."
He had taken my deepest vulnerability, my illness, and used it as a weapon to humiliate me publicly.
Something inside me snapped.
I slapped him, hard, the sound echoing through the stunned silence.
Emily shrieked and lunged, but I sidestepped, and she crashed into a table.
"It' s all yours," I said, my voice ringing with finality. "You can have him. You can have this whole rotten family. We' re done."
I walked out, hand in hand with my daughter, leaving the wreckage behind. Reborn Wife: Choosing Love Anew
Sci-fi The grand hall reeked of old money and lilies, a scent that now made my stomach clench. This was it: Dad' s insane "heir selection ceremony."
He called it securing the family legacy, but it was just another bizarre power play. My twin sister, Emily, and I stood before him while he gestured to two men.
One, Alex, was a struggling startup founder, awkward but kind. The other, Liam, was a tech prodigy, brilliant but comatose, hooked up to humming machines.
The rules were simple, and savagely unfair: One of us would marry Alex, and the other, Liam. Emily, as always, got to choose first.
I watched her, my perfect, ambitious twin. She didn' t hesitate, and a painful echo resonated deep within me.
I' d lived this before. In my first life, Emily snatched Alex, leaving me with the silent man in the bed, scoffing, "Sarah' s quiet enough for him."
Her life with Alex was a gilded cage of public performance. Mine, a shadow empire under Liam' s thumb. He wasn't comatose; he was awake, a spider spinning a web of illegal projects, and I was his hostage. I became rich beyond imagination, but I was living a nightmare.
Emily, blinded by envy, saw only my wealth. She couldn' t bear my "success" while her own life crumbled under the weight of society's expectations. Her jealousy consumed her, driving her to orchestrate my ruin, ultimately leading to her own dramatic, fatal car crash.
I woke up, back in this hall, the scent of lilies suffocating me. It was the heir selection ceremony, the day it all began again.
Emily, glowing with confidence, looked between Alex and Liam, then at me. A predatory smile, so unlike her first-life triumph, spread across her face.
"Sister," she purred, her voice sweet as poison, "It' s my turn to enjoy the good life now."
She turned to our father, chin high. "I choose Liam."
A stunned silence fell.
She thought she was taking my power, my secret. She thought she had found the path to immense wealth.
She had no idea. She had just chosen the monster. And in doing so, she had set me free. The System’s Cruel Canvas
Romance The antiseptic smell wasn't new; my head always throbbed. I, Chloe Reed, once a promising artist, was now the "evil stepsister," a role forced upon me by a parasitic System.
A year ago, my adoptive brother Alex, the boy I secretly loved, lay dying. The System offered a cure: become the villain, push Alex into Sarah Jenkins' s arms, and then get a new life. I said yes. How could I not? It was for Alex.
The System' s predictions were chillingly accurate. Alex healed, and Sarah, a ray of manufactured sunshine, entered our lives. My existence became a calculated hell, designed to make Alex despise me. Every humiliation, every cruel word from him, was orchestrated. He looked at me with cold loathing, seeing only the monster I was forced to be.
Then came the art gala. Painting, my soul' s refuge, was to be sacrificed. Alex, the boy who once said my art was magic, demanded I create something to make Sarah' s work shine by comparison. He wanted me to lose, publicly, to prove I could do something for someone else.
The System buzzed with approval, promising freedom. I agreed, the word tasting like ash. The night of the gala, I unveiled "Hopeless," a canvas of chaos. Sarah presented "Hope," a field of vibrant flowers. Her victory was thunderous. Then Alex' s icy words: "You took something beautiful and made it ugly, just for attention. You are truly pathetic."
His words shattered me, more than any blow. I fled into the cold night, gasping, calling the only person I could think of for a panic attack. I was utterly alone.
The next morning, Alex burst into my hospital room, not worried, but furious. The System took over, lashing out with cold, mocking defiance. "Why do you care? I did what you wanted. Sarah won. Isn' t that all that matters?"
His rage became chilling. He showed me a wooden bird, a gift I' d carved for him, claiming Sarah had made it. Then the real blow: Sarah needed a kidney-my kidney. "It' s you," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. You will do this. You will give Sarah your kidney, and maybe, just maybe, you will have redeemed yourself for a fraction of the pain you' ve caused."
I signed the forms in a numb haze. The surgery was a violation, draining me literally and figuratively. Days later, Sarah came to my apartment, radiant, vibrant, full of life. My life. She gloated, then faked an injury, shrieking I' d pushed her. Alex appeared, a mask of primal fury. He didn' t ask. He slapped me, sending me crashing against the wall. "You monster," he snarled. "I am done with you. Stay away from us. Stay away from my family."
I was empty, nothing left to take. My phone buzzed. A text from Alex. "My office. Now." It was another task, another demand. But as I sat in his office, I saw it-my mother' s journal, thought lost forever. Sarah walked in, and with a cruel smirk, she took it. Alex, with a mere hesitation, gave it to her. She "accidentally" dropped it into a coffee, ruining the last piece of my mother. As the world went black, a single, horrifying thought screamed in my mind: I cannot escape. Woke Up A Stranger, Found My Love
Romance I woke up in a hospital, my past a blank beyond my 18th year.
The doctor said I was 27, even a talented architect, and married.
But the woman they introduced as my wife, Sophia, was a cold, stunning stranger.
She looked at me with thinly veiled contempt.
She spoke of my nine lost years as a descent into breakdowns and "pathetic" dependence.
My supposed best friend, Ethan Vance, was her true confidante, a smirking rival.
Disgust curdled in my gut.
This wasn't me.
My 18-year-old self, full of ambition and drive, recoiled from this emasculated shadow of a man they described.
How could I have become a "kept man," constantly ridiculed, chasing the approval of an ice queen?
The humiliation was palpable, preserved in flashed cameras and casual insults.
But this amnesia, this blank slate, felt like a gift.
It stripped away the years of self-erasure, leaving behind only the core of who I was.
And that core wanted nothing to do with this suffocating, demeaning life.
"I want a divorce," I told her, my voice surprisingly firm.
"The me I know wouldn't be married to someone who calls him pathetic."
This was no act, no episode.
This was me, fighting to reclaim a life I didn't remember.
A life free from the woman who claimed to be my wife and the rival who wanted me utterly destroyed.
Little did I know, the fight for my true identity would lead to a bloody confrontation and a shocking revelation that would change everything. You might like
The Alpha's Discarded Luna
Velvet Piston I was three months pregnant when the car hit me.
Lying there, barely hanging on, I called my husband-Alpha Ethan-over and over. No answer. When I finally woke up from the pain, I saw a post from his first love, Ivy. "Thank you, Alpha, for knowing how scared I am of the dark and staying with me all night. He even cleared his whole schedule today to take me to the auction, just to give me the best gift in the world. I'm so happy!"
Right then, it hit me. While I was fighting to protect our child, he was with another she-wolf. I calmly liked her post and put my phone away.
Since he chose his first love, I chose to let go.
Seven days from now, I'd leave his world for good-with our child. The Heir He Denied
zibya "I reject you," Alpha Damon sneered, looking down at the shivering Omega. "I need a Queen, not a servant."
Aria bowed her head and accepted her fate, but she took a secret with her when she fled into the night: the Alpha's heir growing in her womb.
Five years later, Aria returns to the city, no longer the weak girl who scrubbed floors. She is powerful, wealthy, and stunning. She thought she could hide from her past, but fate has a cruel sense of humor. Her new business partner is none other than Alpha Damon.
When Damon sees her, he realizes the mistake he made. He wants his mate back. But then he sees the little boy with his same grey eyes hiding behind her legs.
"Who is the child, Aria?" Damon growls, his possessiveness flaring.
Aria smiles coldly. "Someone you rejected." Alpha's Regret: Losing His True Mate
Only_Shila For years, I belonged to him. Not his mate. Not his love.
But his bedmate. His Gamma. His shadow in the night.
Alpha Calhoun made sure no man dared touch me, no wolf dared look at me. I was his possession, his secret, his sin wrapped in skin. And I endured it all-his rough hands, his dark devotion, his kisses that tasted like fire and chains because at least, for a while, he was mine.
Until she returned. His destined mate. His so-called true love.
And suddenly, I was nothing. Cast aside, silenced, left to wither in the shadows of a love that had never been mine to claim.
But the thing about being claimed by a man like Calhoun. is that he never truly lets you go.
"Try to leave me, Elodie," his voice had been a snarl against my throat, his grip bruising my waist. "I'll burn down every border, tear apart every wolf that stands in my way, until you crawl back to me. You're mine, even if the Moon Goddess herself wants to rip you away."
He didn't know then that I already had one foot out the door.
And when I finally left his pack.
I took more than just my broken heart with me. Alpha's Regret: The Hybrid's Royal Contract
Lila For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises.
Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body.
Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union."
Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family."
Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless.
But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place.
Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms.
When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route.
What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected.
He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years.
And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely. Forsaken by the Pack, Mated to the Secret Lycan King
Da Lanlan For two years, I was Alpha Jase Davenport's loyal assistant and secret bed-warmer. Because I was a wolfless Omega, I trusted his empty promises instead of instincts I didn't possess.
Then, a push notification from a notorious gossip blog shattered my world.
Jase was pictured in Paris, his hand intimately resting on the waist of my cruel stepsister, Kira. The headline screamed that he was finally claiming his fated Luna.
Before I could even process the betrayal, Jase texted me a cold command to update his schedule, treating me like a soulless employee.
Immediately after, my mother called to gloat.
"Did you honestly believe an Alpha like Jase would settle for a defective creature like you?"
She threatened to freeze my late father's Pack trust fund unless I agreed to marry an abusive, elderly Alpha to be his breeding mare. If I refused, I would be cast out as a penniless stray, easy prey for any Rogue.
I was nothing but a convenient placeholder to Jase, and a piece of livestock to my own family. They thought they had me completely cornered, ready to steal my inheritance and leave me to die.
But as the panic subsided, a cold clarity took its place. My father's will only required a legal mating bond to unlock my millions; it never said my family had to approve of the groom.
I wiped my tears, opened my laptop, and searched for a disgraced, debt-ridden Rogue named Babe Vincent.
If I needed a husband on paper to secure my freedom, I was going to buy one. That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate.
Kiss Leilani They don't know I'm a girl.
They all look at me and see a boy. A prince.
Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires.
And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too.
The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance.
How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom?
I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy.
But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince."
How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy?
And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave?
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AUTHOR'S NOTE.
This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+
Expect triggers, expect hardcore.
If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in!
.
From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave." Rejected Luna, Claimed by the King
Rabbit 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.
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