Anne and the Hidden world

A resigned sigh escaped my lips as I sank into the comforting softness of my bed. The weight of the day pressed down on me, heavier than the exhaustion I should have felt from school. For most students, life followed a predictable rhythm: home, school, maybe a club, then back home. But not for me. My path diverged sharply.Every day after school, my siblings and I trudged to the old temple on the outskirts of town for training that felt like walking a tightrope between life and death. Our master, a strict yet mysterious martial artist, shaped each lesson to our limits—and sometimes beyond. Each strike, each fall, was meant to make us stronger. To prepare us for what was out there."I won’t let that happen again," I whispered to the ceiling, my fists clenched as Allyson’s glowing eyes burned in my memory. The words tasted bitter, like a promise I couldn't break. My chest tightened as the memory of that terrible day clawed its way into my mind—Allyson’s rage, the bullies’ screams, and th

After a brief scolding from my teacher, I was sent to assist the librarian. The library was a sanctuary of towering shelves and soft whispers, its grandeur unexpectedly breathtaking. The scent of aged books and polished wood wrapped around me like a comforting cloak.Wandering through the aisles, I stumbled upon a dimly lit corner that exuded an eerie presence. A single book stood out—its cover blank and edges charred.Curious, I picked it up. "Weird," I muttered, flipping through its brittle pages. My blood ran cold when I saw my name inscribed on the last page.Before I could react, a sharp pain shot through my finger. A single drop of blood fell onto the page, and the air around me shifted.The ground trembled, the shelves rattling violently. A howling wind filled the room as the book glowed in my hands, its light blinding.I tried to close it, but my hands wouldn’t obey. The light grew brighter, enveloping me in its searing embrace. My thoughts scattered, panic surging as I felt my

Weeks had passed since my capture, each day merging into an agonizing blur. Seth’s relentless torment became a grim routine, his fury like an unquenchable fire. His every action spoke of vengeance, each cruel act fuelled by a pain that had long since consumed him. Rumors whispered through the village that he had lost his family to werewolves. The tragedy had hollowed him out, leaving only hatred to fill the void. His anguish had twisted into something monstrous, something that sought to share its misery with others.“I won’t kill you yet,” Seth hissed, his grin sharp and cruel. He leaned close, his breath hot against my face. Moments before, he’d nearly drowned me, holding my head underwater until darkness edged my vision. My body convulsed with exhaustion, water streaming from my lips as I gasped for air.Instead of giving him the satisfaction of my fear, I spat blood in his face. The defiance lit a fire in his eyes. His hand came down hard, slapping me with enough force to split my l

The moment I saw the three familiar figures descending like apparitions from the sky, I froze. It felt like the world around me came to a standstill. The blood-soaked battlefield, the chaos of the burning village—all of it blurred as I focused on them. My siblings. "Where did you come from?" I asked, my voice shaking with a mixture of disbelief and relief. Allyson, her snow-white hair glinting faintly in the moonlight, surveyed the carnage. Her sharp, calculating gaze missed nothing. "Well..." she began, clearly unsettled by the destruction. "We’ll talk about that later." "We were just training when—bam!—a blinding light, and here we are," Helix chimed in, his eyes darting between our parents, the wolves, and me. His tone was casual, but his body was tense, ready for action. "So, what’s this?" Henry stepped forward, his movements precise and deliberate, as always. "We’ve been tracking you ever since you disappeared almost two months ago," he explained. His piercing gaze shifted to

My mother stiffened, her fingers tightening around the edge of my bed. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the wooden frame, her body visibly tensing. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice brittle as dry leaves. Her eyes darted toward Savienne, searching for something, anything, that might soften the blow of what she had just heard. “We can’t just—”“What do you mean, Savienne?” My father’s voice thundered over hers, cutting through the tense air like a blade. He stepped forward, his towering frame dominating the small hospital room. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had gone pale. “You can’t drop a bomb like that and expect us to just accept it!” His voice cracked with fury, but there was something else—something raw—lurking beneath the surface. Fear?Savienne didn’t flinch. She turned to face him fully, her silver hair catching the harsh fluorescent light. Her steely gaze bore into his, unyielding. “She’s been marked,” she said, her tone sharp and matter-o