LOGINI paced back and forth in the room, my mind a big mess and my heart is running a race I will never win.
Why? Why now? I was moving on so well, I had forgotten about him and was about to start my life over after months of constant struggle then, there, he appeared out of the blue and then everything back to what it was.
I shouldn't have accepted Samuel's request, but I didn't know the person I was serving was him.
And the lady? I'm sure she's his girlfriend now. After all, he is a handsome man and can't be stuck in me.
Plus, he's always been the player type and I knew letting him in will cause nothing but pain to me.
But....it hurts. I won't lie, to think he's able to move on so quickly while I'm stuck made me feel so stupid. And I blame my stupid heart for everything.
I was pulled out of my head by Samuel's hands on my shoulder as he said
"Man, you are a life saver" he was smiling and that only annoyed me more.
I brought out my hand with an open palm before him, he frowned.
"What?"
"The 50 Bucks" I said blandly, I've endured enough to help him and it's time I get paid for.
"Well, I thought you were simply helping a friend" He pouted and I slapped his shoulder, enough to pinch him but not enough to hurt him.
"Asshole, my money" I pressed on.
With no other choice, he sent his hand into his pocket and pulled out money. I seized it and walked away, not giving him time to check.
"Wait, my change" he cried.
"It serves as compensation for the damage you've coursed" I walked away. I heard him grunt and fake cry but that was his business.
The day went on, I tried to keep my mind steady but at some point, I ended up getting lost and Luke was keen to notice.
"Are you okay?" He asked, he stood next to the coffee machine at the counter, his brown eyes held something warm and friendly.
I couldn't help but smile, it wasn't big but enough to take my mind off my thoughts.
"Not exactly but I will be fine" I assured him.
His gaze lingered more, he seems to have a lot to say but didn't utter a word, instead, he smiled and went ahead to make coffee.
"Want some?" He raised a brow and I nodded.
"I'll be honored" I walked and sat on the seat next to the door, staring at the busy road covered in the orange glow of the evening sun.
Maybe my life will never be the same or maybe it will change for good. I can't tell until I meet my end.
***************
My life used to be simple, I was getting used to it. Coffee? That's all I get apart from water but today, I wanted more or rather something different and hard, enough to knock me out of my thoughts.
And staying at home did nothing but help my thoughts grow wider and scattered. And worse? It all leads back to Travian and his unholy touches and kisses.
Back then when I knew I loved Dain even before he talked to me, I wasn't this scared and confused. I never for once fear his presence might make me do things.
But Travian, every thought of him made my bones shiver in desire and I fear I won't be able to hold on much longer.
I got off the bed and quickly threw something on, going out is the best option. Maybe it's what I need actually.
I stepped out, lurking the street when I found a hidden bar almost in an isolated area in the town. I decided to snug in, and let the alcohol numb me.
All the required was legal ID to get a pass. I got in, sat by the counter and ordered a strong drink. I gulped down the first shot, the second and third like it was nothing and on the forth, I stopped.
My head spun, and all I could see was Travian’s playful smile — the one that always left me undone.
My body itches and I remember just how well he knew my body, how better he satisfied me and how best he did the things that left my brain numb and caused my body to shiver effortlessly.
What is wrong with me? I thought I had moved on but I guess I'm back to square one, thanks to Travian.
With a lowered head, I felt someone walk and sit on the empty stole next to me on the counter, I didn't want to look up at first but something made me too and when I did, I was shocked to see Travian staring back at me with a smirk that left my heart throbbing.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
My brows twisted, eyes furrowed as I tried to picture out the person before me. Maybe I'm dreaming, maybe not. I shook my head, wiped my eyes and looked up again.
A big relief escaped my lips when I saw someone else seated there. It was all my imagination and I let it get the better part of me.
Even though I was relieved, a part of me was sad. A part of me wanting it to be him.
This place isn't good for my health, staying here might caused lots of damage than good.
I empty my glass and quickly paid the bartender and left. My steps were staggering but I was sober enough to find my way home.
Fresh immediately hits my face the moment I stepped out of the building, and I was even more sober thanks to the coldness of the air.
I carried myself back home, walking through the silence street lost in my thoughts when I heard a familiar voice call me from behind.
I paused, but hesitated to look behind. I was convinced it's all in my head, and I hated myself for that.
I decided to ignore whatever voice I heard and was about to take a step forward when I hear th voice again but this time, it was closer.
I turned around and was stunned to see Travian standing before me, staring at me with a face I couldn't describe what emotions he was having.
I chuckled lightly, amazed at myself for how wide I let my imagination to be.
"So much of wishful thinking" I muttered to myself and turned around to leave when he grabbed my shoulder and I halted.
Not only did my steps halted but my heart and mind did too. I wasn't imagining things, he was really here, infront of me and for the first time in a long time, I could read the emotions on his face.
My heart was in a state of panic, my leg screaming for me to run but my legs had long gave up on me the moment he had touched me.
"Can we talk?" He said, his eyes observing me so closely like I'll disappear if he blinked.
The sun rose like a dying ember — pale, uncertain, its light fractured by the smoke of a world still clawing its way back from ruin. The air trembled with the aftershocks of creation; the heavens still bore the scars of their struggle. Where dawn should have been gold and gentle, it came instead in broken colors — a bleeding horizon of ash and silver, of beauty born from devastation.The fields beyond the shattered Sanctum glimmered with a fragile sheen. Ash mixed with frost, creating a landscape that seemed half-real, half-dream. The soil itself shimmered faintly — divine residue woven into the earth like threads of dying stars. Rivers of silver light wound their way through blackened stone, whispering softly in tongues no mortal could name. Every ripple carried echoes of prayers that once shook heaven — the last remnants of gods now gone silent.At the edge of that trembling horizon stood Soren. Barefoot, cloak torn and heavy with the scent of smoke, he looked less like a man and mo
The wind had changed.It no longer carried the scent of rain or ash, but something stranger — the birth-scent of creation itself. Wild and metallic, it tasted of molten stars and shattered dawns, like a newborn world struggling to define what it was meant to be. The air shimmered faintly, bending around invisible tides. Every breath Soren took tasted sharp, electric, alive.He stood at the edge of a cliff that hadn’t existed the day before — a sheer drop that carved down into valleys so fresh they still bled light from their wounds. Below, rivers etched thin silver lines through the dark soil, glinting where sunlight touched them, as though the earth itself was sketching its first heartbeat. Trees leaned out from the mist, their branches crystalline, dripping with dew that gleamed like tears.He should have felt wonder.But all he felt was the hollow ache of survival.The wind clawed at his hair and cloak, tugging at him like a restless ghost. The light beneath his skin — that same di
The heavens convulsed.It wasn’t merely thunder or light — it was the very fabric of existence folding in on itself, like a living thing writhing in pain. What had once been sky was now a wound — a vast, ragged rift bleeding light and shadow in equal measure. The air trembled, bending under the weight of creation’s agony.From that wound, the Primarch stepped through.Its arrival was not heralded by sound, nor light, nor fire, but awareness. It was like the world suddenly remembered its own maker — every atom, every stone, every star recognizing the presence that had carved them from nothing. Its presence could not be seen; it was felt.A pressure that sank into marrow. A whisper that slid beneath thought.The weight of eternity pressing against fragile flesh.Where it moved, the constellations quivered as if bowing in reverence.Where it breathed, mountains bent. Oceans stilled. And in that silence between one heartbeat and the next, the voice of the Primarch entered all minds — not
The storm had passed, but the world still trembled from its echo. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and divine residue — the kind that lingers after gods have touched mortal ground. Soren’s light no longer burned violently; it pulsed softly beneath his skin, like the heartbeat of the universe settling inside him.Travian sat beside him in the silence, his hand still on Soren’s shoulder. His divine glow had dimmed — not from weakness, but from restraint. He looked at Soren the way one looks at something both fragile and infinite.“You shouldn’t have done that,” Travian said finally, his voice low, the edges still rough from battle. “That much light would’ve torn through any mortal vessel.”Soren managed a faint smile. “Then it’s good I’m no longer entirely mortal.”Travian’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know what you’ve taken in.”“I know enough,” Soren said, shifting to face him. His eyes glowed faintly — threads of gold woven through the blue, shimmering with something ancie
The light spilling from Soren’s chest dimmed and flickered, pulsing like a heartbeat caught between worlds, uncertain if it belonged to the living or some fragile echo of eternity. Each pulse trembled through his ribs, illuminating the rain-slick skin along his shoulders, his jaw, his trembling hands, with a golden shimmer that seemed almost sacred. It faded and flared unevenly, as if life itself were hesitant to claim him, as if the world were holding its breath.Soren gasped, the air jagged in his lungs, his fingers pressing against the wound that was no longer flesh but fractured radiance. It pulsed beneath his palm, hot and cold all at once, singing against his skin with the soundless agony of dying stars. Across from him, Travian — god of the Seventh Order, the immortal whose name had once commanded legions of angels and men alike — dropped to his knees. His divine glow, once a perfect halo, wavered and dimmed like a dying sun sinking beneath a crimson horizon. It was not weaknes
The light ripped through Soren’s chest — wild, merciless, alive.It wasn’t blood that spilled from him, but radiance — molten gold laced with white fire — cascading like liquid dawn across his trembling frame. The brilliance poured out of him in a violent flood, burning through his torn shirt, searing the rain from the air. Every drop that touched him turned to steam. Every breath he took fractured the storm around them.Elara could barely breathe.The courtyard, moments ago drowning in darkness, now blazed like the heart of a dying sun. She shielded her eyes, but even behind her arm, the light found her — piercing, unrelenting. Her instincts screamed for her to flee, to turn away from the god tearing reality apart before her eyes. Yet she couldn’t. Something deeper than fear anchored her where she stood — the fragile, human pull of her heart toward the man she loved.“Soren!” she shouted, her voice half-swallowed by the howling energy. “Fight it!”He tried to speak, but the words bro







