Surviving My Deadly Contract Beast Husbands

I died in the apocalypse, only to wake up as Kenzie Banks, a bankrupt high-society monster in an interstellar beast-world. But before I could even process my new reality, a cold AI voice informed me of my impending death. "Your contract beast-husbands possess the legal right to execute you at the end of the two-month trial period." I rushed to the basement and saw the horrific truth. The original Kenzie had starved them, whipped them with thermal blades, sent their brothers to die as cannon fodder, and framed the youngest to rot in a maximum-security prison. Now, these lethal, broken men were methodically planning to rip my organs out the second the contract dissolved. To make matters worse, she had squandered her fortune on a man who despised her, leaving me two million credits in debt and facing imminent exile to the deadly wastelands. I had survived rotting zombies on Earth, only to be trapped in a weak, universally hated body, doomed to be butchered by the very people I was supposed to call family. Why did I have to pay the ultimate price for a psychotic woman's deadly sins? I refused to just sit around and wait for my execution. Tapping into my apocalyptic subspace inventory, I hauled out military-grade rations, healed their bleeding wounds, and slammed a legally binding divorce contract on the table. If I wanted to survive this sixty-day countdown, I had to turn my executioners into my loyal allies—starting with breaking the husband she framed out of prison.

Chapters

Chapter 6

She sat at the head of the long, polished dining table in the living room. She tapped her fingernails against the wood, the rhythmic sound echoing in the empty space.

Ten minutes passed.

The door leading to the basement opened.

Alfie walked out first, supporting Josue. Josue was limping heavily, his face pale and covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Behind them walked Buren. He had shifted back into his human form—a towering, broad-shouldered man who looked like he could bench-press a truck. But he walked with his shoulders hunched, trying to make himself look as small as possible.

They stopped at the opposite end of the table. They stood there, a united front of hatred and suspicion.

Josue's green eyes locked onto her. The violent energy from his earlier rampage was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating fury.

Buren peeked out from behind Alfie's shoulder. His eyes immediately darted to the handful of nutrient fluid vials she had placed on the table. He swallowed hard.

She pointed to the three empty chairs near them. "Sit down."

Nobody moved.

Alfie let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "What's the catch, Kenzie? Are the chairs rigged with high-voltage shocks? Or did you just coat the cushions in contact poison?"

She pressed her lips together. She stood up.

She walked down the length of the table. When she reached their end, they instinctively tensed.

She grabbed the first chair, pulled it out, and sat down hard. She bounced on the cushion. She stood up, moved to the second chair, and did the same. Then the third.

She looked at Alfie. "Safe enough for you?"

The three men stared at her. Total bewilderment washed over their faces. The original Kenzie would rather die than perform such an undignified, ridiculous act.

She walked back to the head of the table and sat down. She folded her hands in front of her.

"I'm going to make this quick," she said, looking at each of them. "I know I've been a monster. I know I've done things to you that are unforgivable."

Josue slammed his hands onto the table. "Unforgivable?" he roared.

He grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped it open, buttons popping off and hitting the floor. He exposed his chest and stomach.

The skin was a roadmap of torture. Burn marks. Deep, jagged scars from a thermal whip.

"Does 'unforgivable' cover this?" Josue snarled, his chest heaving. "Does it cover starving us? Does it cover sending my brothers to die?"

She didn't look away. She forced herself to stare at every single scar. Her stomach churned with guilt that wasn't hers, but she owned it now.

"No," she said quietly. "It doesn't."

Josue's mouth clamped shut. He had expected her to scream, to laugh, or to call the guards. Her calm acceptance threw him off.

She tapped her terminal. A holographic document projected into the center of the table.

"I know you want to kill me," she said, her voice steady. "And honestly, I don't blame you. But I want to live. So, here is my offer."

She pointed to the glowing text. "This is a Declaration of Intent to Divorce. In sixty days, when the trial marriage period ends, I will file for a legal separation citing 'Genetic Incompatibility.' You will all be free."

Dead silence filled the room.

Alfie frowned, his eyes scanning the legal jargon. "The law says a female cannot unilaterally break a contract without cause during the trial period. What kind of trap is this?"

"No trap," she said. "I've already signed it with my biometric seal. It's legally binding on my end. For the next sixty days, I will not interfere with you. You can use whatever is left in this house."

Buren slowly raised his hand, like a child in a classroom. "Can we... can we eat the food?"

Her heart cracked a little. She pushed the vials down the table toward him. "Eat as much as you want. I'll buy more."

Josue slammed his hand down over the vials, stopping Buren from taking one. He glared at her.

"Why?" Josue demanded. "What is your angle?"

She met his gaze. "I told you. I want to live. I don't want to wake up in two months with my throat ripped out. This is a ceasefire."

Josue stared at her, searching her face for the lie. He found nothing but brutal honesty.

He looked down at the holographic contract. He didn't sign it. But slowly, deliberately, he lifted his hand off the vials.

It was a silent agreement.

She nodded. "Good. Eat. Rest."

She stood up and walked out of the room, leaving them alone with the food and their confusion.

Continue to next part

I spent forty hours hand-beading a gown for a woman who was currently sleeping with my husband. My fingers were raw, my vision blurred, and the needle had just driven deep into my index finger, leaving a drop of blood on the silk. Braxton walked into our penthouse, rain dripping from his suit, and didn't even look at me. But the scent hit me instantly—Bulgarian rose and white musk. It was the custom perfume Griselda, my own sister, commissioned in Paris. I had spent three years as a ghost in my own marriage, sewing costumes for the woman who had haunted my vows since day one. Braxton didn't bother to hide it anymore; there was a smudge of her coral lipstick on his collar. He didn't offer an explanation, only a command to finish the gown for the Met Gala so I wouldn't embarrass them. My mother called moments later, her voice sharp with the usual dismissal. She didn't care that I was bleeding or that my husband was cheating with my sister. She only cared that I was "falling behind" on Griselda's gown. I sat in the silence of that cold, marble cage, staring at the needle in my hand. For years, I had swallowed every insult and stitched every lie, believing I was the capable one who had to make them happy. But as the clock ticked, a door inside me finally clicked shut. I wasn't just tired; I was finished. I set the needle down, picked up my phone, and dialed my sister’s number to tell her she’d have to find someone else to bleed for her.

Horror Modern Romance

9.3

Bound By Contract To The Beast Warlord

9.3

I woke up in a freezing, desolate wasteland, my body weak and covered in sores. A mechanical voice in my head informed me that I was a defective rabbit-mutant, and if I didn't conceive within twenty-four hours, I would die permanently. The terror was suffocating, but the system left me no choice. To survive the brutal cold and the decay of my own heartbeat, I had to force a pregnancy with a stranger. I stumbled through the snow, my fingers turning blue, until I found a massive, wounded Arctic Fox-mutant in a dark cave. He was a Tier-9 predator, dying and radiating the exact heat I needed to stay alive. I threw away my dignity, crawling into his fur to merge our energies, desperate to trigger the life-reset protocol before my time ran out. I felt like a monster, forcing myself onto a man who didn't even know I existed, just to keep my own heart beating. How could I ever face him if he woke up? Why did I have to be the one to pay the price for this twisted, mechanical ultimatum? The fusion was a success, but when I woke up the next morning, the apex predator had me pinned under his massive claws, his fangs inches from my throat. I didn't beg for mercy. I stared into his feral, ice-blue eyes and made a deal that would change everything: I would be his anchor, and he would be my protector. But then I dropped the final, terrifying truth: I was pregnant, and he was the only one who could save us.

Horror LitRPG Romance Sci-Fi Vampire

8.9

Claimed By The Husband's Ruthless Uncle

8.9

Audrey Fletcher was forced to marry the notorious playboy Julian Sterling to save her family's sinking company after her sister ran away. On their wedding night, her new husband threw a $100,000 check at her face, told her they would be strangers in private, and abandoned her in the bridal suite. She thought being trapped in a loveless, transactional marriage was the worst fate possible. She was wrong. To protect herself, Audrey hung a pair of men's boxer shorts on her balcony to fake a lover's presence. Instead of deterring her husband, the ridiculous ruse brought Alistair Sterling—Julian's terrifying, powerful uncle and the true puppet master of the family. He stormed into her apartment with a legal team to catch her cheating, and later even offered her ten million dollars to divorce his nephew. When she refused out of fear of her own family's ruin, the situation escalated. Forced to attend a charity gala, Audrey was tricked by staff into wearing a scandalous, backless gown and sent to a dark penthouse suite to beg her husband for peace. But the man waiting in the shadows wasn't Julian. It was Alistair. "Does the thought of seducing your husband's uncle give you a special kind of thrill?" He didn't listen to her desperate explanations. Instead, he pinned her arms behind her back and crushed his mouth against hers in a brutal, punishing kiss. Trembling with terror and revulsion, Audrey bit his lip until she tasted blood, shoved the billionaire away, and ran for her life. She couldn't understand why this powerful man was so dangerously obsessed with destroying her sham marriage. But as she fled into the cold city night, she realized the terrifying truth: the real game was just beginning.

Horror Modern Romance

9.6

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

9.6

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

Horror Modern Romance

8.2

Falling For My Dead Husband's Ghost

8.2

To save my brother's life, I married a dead billionaire. My new home was a freezing, high-tech mausoleum where I was ordered to hold a year-long vigil beside Byron Hyde's cryogenic pod. But I wasn't alone in the dark. Every night, a terrifying shadow smelling of whiskey and sandalwood pinned me to my narrow bed. It tore my clothes and brutally claimed my body, leaving me bruised and trembling until dawn. When I begged the housekeeper for help, showing her my torn skin, she just smiled cruelly. "It seems the master's spirit has accepted you." I thought I was being haunted by a vengeful ghost, until Byron's arrogant nephew broke into the tomb to assault me. His tampering triggered the life-support system, and the heavy lid of the pod hissed open. Byron Hyde sat up, his eyes lethal and his skin shockingly warm. He was alive. Looking at his broad shoulders, I caught the faint scent of whiskey and sandalwood. The horrific truth hit me like a physical blow. My nightly tormentor wasn't a ghost. It was my living, breathing husband. When I confronted him, his eyes were cold and clinical. "That was a necessary test. I had to know if my wife would break." A white-hot rage choked me, but I didn't scream or run. He slipped the priceless, heavy sapphire of the family matriarch onto my finger, offering me absolute power over the treacherous relatives who wanted us both dead. To fight a monster, you can't be a victim. I looked into his deep, dangerous eyes and accepted the ring. If this was a cage, allying with the keeper was the only way to find the key.

Horror Modern Romance

9.6

My Dying Wish: A Fiancé's Betrayal

9.6

My family and fiancé begged me to donate my last remaining kidney to my twin sister, Kyleigh. They didn't know I was already dying. My fiancé, Axel, gave me an ultimatum. "Donate the kidney, or I'll break our engagement and marry Kyleigh. It's her dying wish." I agreed, only for them to frame me for plagiarism with my own thesis, forcing me to confess on camera. They never knew I was the one who secretly saved our father with my other kidney five years ago-a sacrifice Kyleigh had stolen all the credit for. As they wheeled me into the operating room, they celebrated with Kyleigh, promising her a future built on my death. I was already a ghost to them. But I died on the table. The surgeon, seeing the old surgical scar and the poison riddling my body, walked out to face them. "This wasn't a donation," she announced, her voice cold as steel. "This was murder."

Horror Mystery Romance

Surviving My Deadly Contract Beast Husbands

Chapter 6

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