Novels by Mr Donch

La nuit tomba sur la Vallée du Sel comme un voile de cendres, mais dans le Berceau, une lueur persistait. Les parois, chargées d'histoires et d'empreintes, pulsaient lentement comme une respiration millénaire. Riley, debout au centre du sanctuaire, fixait les autres. Ils étaient sept autour d'elle : Mira, Amma, Eliah, Jack, les deux Errants, et une silhouette nouvelle, apparue à l'aube, vêtue de haillons et portant une flamme silencieuse dans les yeux.Il se présenta comme Ivar. Un rescapé d'un ancien sanctuaire, disparu depuis des cycles. Son savoir était fragmentaire, mais il parlait d'une prophétie : « Lorsque les cendres se lèveront, le vent jugera les cœurs et les intentions. Et seuls ceux qui n'ont rien réclamé pourront transmettre. »Amma fronça les sourcils, encore une prophétie ? Nous venons à peine de détruire un système fondé sur les dogmes.Mais Ivar secoua la tête, ce n'est pas une croyance. C'est un signal. Le vent parle. Et il vient.Dans le ciel, au-dessus de la vallée

Le ciel était strié de nuages denses, aux reflets cuivre, comme si la mémoire du monde elle-même avait entamé sa lente descente vers l’oubli. Mais sous terre, dans les galeries du Berceau, une autre dynamique était à l’œuvre : les fragments du passé, les voix longtemps dispersées, se rassemblaient.Jack arriva le premier, épuisé, amaigri, les yeux hantés par des mois de fuite et de sacrifices. Il se tenait à l’entrée du sanctuaire, hésitant. Lorsqu’il vit Riley, figée devant un mur de pierre vibrante, il sentit son souffle se suspendre. Non pas parce qu’elle était sa fille, mais parce qu’elle était devenue quelque chose de plus grand. Elle était le pont entre ce qui avait été détruit et ce qui pouvait être reconstruit.Il s’avanca, silencieusement. Riley se retourna, leurs regards se croisèrent. Pas de mots. Juste cette certitude qu’ils étaient encore en vie, encore humains, encore debout. Jack toucha la paroi, ressentant une onde parcourir ses veines, un souvenir qui n’était pas le s

Le sud s’ouvrait devant eux comme un livre aux pages blanches, vibrant d’un soleil pâle filtré par les cendres suspendues. Riley, Eliah, et les deux Errants progressaient lentement, laissant derrière eux les ruines d’un monde où chaque mot avait été pesé, chaque souvenir dicté. Devant eux, le silence.La vallée du Sel, que les cartes anciennes désignaient comme une terre morte, s'était transformée en un vaste sanctuaire désertique. Au loin, les formations rocheuses ressemblaient à des statues fondues, comme si des géants avaient péri là, figés par un souffle divin. Selon les rumeurs, les cavernes se trouvaient au fond d’un ravin invisible sur les cartes du Codex. Un lieu à lécart des anciens flux, protégé par l’oubli.Les jours s’enchaînèrent, éreintants. Eliah se montrait attentif, veillant sur Riley d’un regard discret, tandis que les Errants partageaient leurs maigres connaissances des lieux. Chaque soir, autour du feu, les récits circulaient : souvenirs volés, mythes anciens, frag

La brume qui s'élevait lentement sur les berges du lac noirissait l'horizon d'une mélancolie sourde. Dans le silence matinal, les pas de Riley crissaient contre les gravillons humides. Elle s'était levée avant les autres, fuyant l’étroit cocon de l’abri de fortune qu’ils avaient dressé à la hâte. Depuis la fin du Codex et la chute de Clio, tout semblait se détacher peu à peu : les certitudes, les alliances, et même les liens du sang.Jack était resté silencieux depuis leur arrivée au camp improvisé. Les lignes de son visage s'étaient durcies, comme figées dans un éternel hiver. Riley n'avait pas osé lui adresser un mot. Elle savait que l'heure des choix approchait. Et que certains adieux ne se prononcent pas.Mira l'avait rejointe peu après, une couverture encore autour des épaules. Elle ne dit rien d'abord. Puis, en regardant l'eau sombre :— Il va falloir partir.Riley hocha la tête. Elle aussi le sentait. L'organisation des Refusés se fragmentait. Certains parlaient de rejoindre le

Le vent du plateau tibétain soufflait fort, comme pour repousser les intrus. La neige n’était plus celle de l’hiver, mais celle d’un secret trop longtemps gardé. En contrebas, enfoui sous des strates de roche et d’oubli, le Dôme Intérieur émergeait comme une cicatrice dans la montagne.Riley posa les yeux sur l’entrée effondrée. Il ne restait qu’un pan de béton creusé, un demi-symbole gravé : un œil fermé, barré d’une ligne. Le signe des Refusés. Ceux qu’on n’avait pas seulement testés, mais niés.— Tu es sûre ? demanda Asha.— J’ai reconnu l’endroit. Je l’ai vu en rêve, des années durant. Mais ce n’étaient pas des rêves. C’étaient des fragments.Elle s’agenouilla et glissa les doigts dans la poussière gelée. Soudain, une pulsation résonna sous la roche. Le sol vibra doucement, comme une respiration enfouie. Le Dôme n’était pas mort. Il attendait.Le groupe descendit lentement dans le boyau d’accès. L’air se faisait plus dense à mesure qu’ils avançaient, saturé de silence et de souven

L’aube s’était levée sur l’océan, embrassant la mer d’un rouge voilé. Le submersible avançait lentement vers une base improvisée sur une île oubliée, loin des réseaux satellites et des regards scrutateurs. Riley observait les reflets dans l’eau depuis la lucarne du poste de repos. Tout en elle vibrait encore du choc intérieur. Ils avaient détruit une forteresse de Clio, un sanctuaire des doubles, mais la paix ne venait pas.Il restait encore un verrou. Et il n’était ni technologique, ni militaire. Il était humain. Et profondément intime. Le retour à la base fut silencieux. Elian et Mei travaillaient déjà à croiser les données arrachées à la base chilienne : des noms de mécènes, des fragments codés dans des banques privées, des protocoles de survie de Clio. Mais surtout, une anomalie. Une signature.Un code génétique que Riley reconnut immédiatement : le sien. Et rattaché à ce code, un seul nom, un seul dossier verrouillé : Le Projet Lyra.— Pourquoi ce nom ? demanda Soren, les yeux fi

In the moonless cave, the old spirit waited. She had no eyes, but saw everything.“You are no Luna,” she whispered.“You are something older.”She placed a crown of bones and silver. I felt it burn.I did not speak. I only walked alone to the cliff’s edge. Below, wolves mourned. Above, stars wept. Inside, I promised:“No more waiting. No more mercy. This pack will rise, or the world will fall.”The stolen pups returned, alive, unharmed, but changed: their eyes were red, their voices were wrong.And on their chests, symbols carved in deep:“Islaith owns tomorrow.”Even Lira backed away. I didn’t flinch.“I’ll tear her name from fate.”The cursed pups didn't sleep. They whispered in voices that weren't their own. Lira wept."They speak in dreams. About fire. About a throne."I knew then, Islaith wasn’t breaking the pack. She was reshaping it.I went to the Bone Oracle. Once, she saw all futures. Now she was blind.“You shouldn’t be alive,” she rasped. I stepped forward.“I shouldn’t be

He waited at the ruin’s edge. No scent. No sound. Just hollow eyes.“Who are you?” I asked.He didn’t answer. He only held out a mirror. I saw myself. A stranger with cracked skin, white flames leaking from her mouth.“I remember you,” he whispered.The Oracle Pack refused allegiance. I gave them one night. They used it to summon fire. Old fire. God-fire. We met at the lake of salt.Their Alpha called me cursed. I burned their banners. Their wolves trembled. The fire chose me. Again.“You’re not her anymore,”Lira said.“You kill without blinking.”“I lead,” I said.“You erase,” she whispered.I looked at my hands. Bones where rings used to be.“Would you still follow me?”Lira turned her back.“Only if I must.”I thought she had died. Seris stood before me, scarred and silent. Her left arm was gone. Her right eye glowed red.“The Hollow One lies,” she said.“You think you’ve changed everything, but it’s changing you.”I wanted to hug her. Instead, I walked away.I stood before the la

In the Hollow One’s temple, we found it; a silver mirror that whispered. Each time I looked, I saw a different version of myself.One wore a crown.One held a child.One was devouring a pack.And one… was married to Lira.The Oracle broke her silence.“You weren’t born under this sky,” she said.“What does that mean?” I snapped.She held up my blood in moonlight.It shimmered like stars.“You were born under the Ninth Moon. Not this realm. Not this timeline. That’s why they fear you.”I found him in the ruins. His armor dented. His hand shaking.“There were children inside,” he whispered.I touched his shoulder. He flinched.“They were mine, Saelaith.”He didn’t mean children by blood. He meant his wolves. And the guilt was killing him.He kissed me before he said it.“I told them where you were.”“Why?”“I wanted to save you,” he said.“They promised they’d spare the Eclipse.”“They lied,” I said.And his face broke like glass.Because deep down, he knew.It did not speak. It only br

He walked into our camp like smoke. Tall, silent, wrapped in iron-colored robes. Voice that scraped like bone.“You are the child of two wars,” he said to me.“Do you know which one you’ll finish?”Then he vanished into nothing. Dax never carried a weapon. Until today. He stood between me and a traitor wolf.“You’re not the only one who can bleed for her,” he said.Then he sliced the traitor’s throat open. His hands shook. Not from fear. But from love.They argued in the clearing. Three of them wanted to leave. Said I was more beast than Luna now.Said I’d bring ruin.I let them go. But Seris didn’t. She hunted them at night. And in the morning, only their bones remained.A hawk came with another message. No poison this time. Only blood sealed in glass. Lira’s voice echoed through my head as I read it:“Come alone. Come unarmed. I’ll give you the truth.”I left that night. Unarmed, yes. But not alone.She waited atop the Red Cliffs. Wind snapping her white cloak. Moonlight catching th

I stood in the ashes of the great hall. The Luna throne was gone, burned to bone. Dax turned to me.“Take it now,” he said.“There is no throne,” I whispered.He looked at me like I’d already become something else.“No… you are the throne.”Zoryn kissed me. Not with love, with hunger. He tasted what lived inside me, and smiled.“I was sent to kill you,” he said.“But you’re too beautiful to waste.”I slapped him. Then I kissed him back. Because I needed his darkness more than his loyalty.Lira’s coronation was drowned in moonlight and blood. The traitor packs howled her name.She wore a crown of bone and frost.“Let them see their ruin,” she told her mirror.Then she laughed. Because it was my face reflected in the glass.The old wolves met in silence. Alpha ghosts, buried kings, forgotten Lunars. They demanded tribute from me. I gave them nothing, only blood. The pact sealed in my veins. The eclipse lives in you now, Seris said. With it… comes war.The chains broke in my mind. Seris

We arrived too late. The border was soaked in blood, pack warriors torn apart. The scent of ash and silver lingered.“Witchfire,” Dax whispered, eyes scanning the trees.The rogues weren’t acting alone anymore. Something darker had joined the war. I stood before the Bloodfang warriors. Their eyes held doubt, and something colder, fear.“I don’t need your crown,” I said, voice steady.“But if you want a future, you’ll follow me now.”No one knelt. Not yet. But the silence wasn’t rejection. It was hesitation… and hunger. Vaeron smashed through the council doors, shirt torn, fists bleeding.“Who gave the kill order?” he roared.His Beta tried to speak, too slow. Vaeron shifted mid-breath, fury and wolf tearing loose. No longer a leader. Just a man desperate to protect what he let go.He was no rogue. Zoryn removed the glove from his left hand, revealing a sigil, ancient and glowing.“A child of the Eclipse Circle,” Dax muttered.A forbidden bloodline. Bound to chaos. He had been watching

By nightfall, the trees had thinned into a high ridge, their shadows long and jagged against the fading sky. The wind was colder here, sharper, touched with something that felt like memory. Kade walked ahead, silent as always, but I knew he felt it too.This wasn’t just wilderness anymore.It was sacred ground.The ground crunched under our boots as we reached the top of a low slope. There, nestled in a hollow of jagged stone, was what could only be the Crest.It didn’t look like much from afar, just a ring of weathered stone slabs, half-swallowed by moss and roots. But as we drew closer, a low hum rose in my chest, like a second heartbeat.I stopped breathing.This place... it knew me.“I don’t like how quiet it is,” Kade said, scanning the trees. His hand hovered near his belt, where he kept a blade, an old habit from patrols and border fights. But this wasn’t that kind of danger.“It’s not dangerous,” I whispered. “It’s waiting.”I stepped toward the stones before I could think too

The next morning came quietly, like the world was giving us a moment to breathe before it started spinning again.I didn’t sleep much.My dreams were strange, blurred flashes of silver forests and voices speaking in a language I didn’t understand. The moon was always there, huge and white, hanging low in the sky like it was watching me.I woke up with a jolt just before dawn, breath tight in my chest. Kade was already awake, sitting at the little wooden table with his back straight and his hands clasped together like he’d been thinking all night.“We need to speak with Rosa,” he said without looking up. “The Elders know things the rest of the pack has forgotten. If there’s something older in your blood… they’ll know where to start.”My stomach twisted. I nodded and threw on a jacket. My hands were still shaky, but my mind was made up.Rosa’s home was tucked into the edge of the woods, hidden beneath a thick curtain of vines and stone. It didn’t feel like part of the modern world, more

The forest seemed to hold its breath as the pack split into small groups, each tasked with the Silent Hunt. No shifting, no reckless chase, just patience, focus, and the ancient art of tracking.I found myself paired with Kade, his presence a steady anchor in the stillness. We moved quietly, every sense alert to the whispers of the woods, the soft crunch of leaves, the distant call of a hawk, the faintest scent carried on the breeze.“Focus on the trail, Shea,” he murmured, guiding me gently. “Let the forest speak.”I tried to still my racing heart, matching his calm. Hours passed like this, the world narrowing to scent and shadow.At one point, he caught my hand briefly, fingers warm and firm against mine. The small touch sent a spark that threatened to break my concentration.Later, as twilight bled into night, we returned to the clearing, both silent but victorious. The pack gathered, sharing stories and lessons learned in whispered tones.For a moment, the old divisions seemed to f

Kade’s voice was firm as he addressed them. “The hunters won’t stop. They’re coming back, stronger, more organized. If we don’t stand united, the pack will fall.”An Elder named Silas, his silver fur tinged with age, leaned forward, his eyes sharp beneath heavy brows. “Change is dangerous,” he said, his voice gravelly. “The laws that kept us safe for centuries can’t be broken lightly.”I stepped forward, heart hammering in my chest. “Those laws nearly destroyed us. They nearly destroyed the pack.”A murmur rippled through the circle, some nods, some frowns.“We can’t survive if we cling to the past,” I continued, my voice steady despite the trembling inside. “The world is changing, and so must we. We need to embrace all who are willing to fight with us, human, wolf, or something in between.”Silas studied me, the tension in the circle thick enough to cut. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Perhaps it is time to rethink what it means to be a pack.”Kade’s eyes softened as he looked at me. “This

The night air was thick with tension, every rustle and whisper amplified in the stillness. The pack was restless, every wolf on edge, waiting for the inevitable clash that would decide our fate.Kade stood at the front, eyes sharp, muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike. I was beside him, heart pounding but steady, every sense alive.Suddenly, the silence shattered, a burst of movement, flash of steel, the hunters were here.Chaos exploded around us. Arrows flew, snarls and yells pierced the night. The pack surged forward, fierce and wild.I dodged a swinging club, feeling the sting of a scrape along my arm but refusing to slow down.Kade shifted mid-fight, his wolf form towering and powerful, cutting through the attackers like a force of nature.Together, we fought, back to back, breathing in sync, a perfect storm of fury and resolve.When the last hunter fled into the shadows, the pack stood victorious but battered.Breathing hard, I met Kade’s eyes. “This was only the begin

The morning sun filtered through the thick canopy, dappling the forest floor in patches of gold. Inside the cabin, the air still smelled of pine and smoke, a quiet comfort after the tense days we'd survived.Kade was already outside, moving with the silent ease of someone born to these woods. I watched him, feeling the pull between the human life I knew and this wild, raw world I was slowly becoming part of.He called me over with a nod and a small smile, the first genuine warmth I'd seen in days.“Today, we start with the Silent Hunts,” he said, his voice low but steady.I frowned, curious.“Tracking prey without shifting. It’s a rite of passage for every wolf who wants to prove themselves to the pack. It’s about patience, control, and respect.”We stepped into the forest, the sounds of the cabin fading behind us.The world around us was alive with subtle noises, a twig snapping here, the flutter of wings there.Kade taught me to quiet my breath, to trust my instincts.Hours passed i