LOGINCeleste:I was born into shadows.Not just shadows of the night, but shadows of people’s minds. My parents. My clan. The villagers. They saw me — me — as a stain. A curse. From the moment I drew my first breath, they whispered of misfortune, of ruin. They said a child like me would bring death. And in a way… they were right.At three, they took my eyes. Plucked them from my skull. Cold hands. Sharp instruments. And I… I felt nothing.Not sadness. Not fear. Not even pain.Just clarity.They told me it was to “save the world from me.” To prevent my greed, my dark heart, from spreading evil across the earth. A prophecy they murmured in frightened tones: She will devour what is good. She will bring fire where none should burn. She will curse the land itself.So they stole my eyes. And the prophecy whispered louder in the darkness.I hated them. I hated everyone. Everything. The world smelled wrong. It tasted of lies, of fear, of fragile life clinging desperately to meaningless morality.A
Maureen Laskovic:“My lady… I will be serving you today.”The cool, measured voice made me pause mid-stroke. I lifted my gaze to the vanity mirror, and her reflection appeared behind mine.Celeste.Her posture was perfect, hands folded neatly in front of her apron, chin slightly lowered. Too composed for this early in the morning.“Celeste?” I turned slightly on my stool. “What happened to Livia?”“She’s… unwell, my lady. It came on quite suddenly.” Her tone remained even, but there was the faintest hesitation before she continued. “I volunteered to take over her duties today. I hope that does not offend you.”I studied her through the mirror for a moment longer than necessary. Livia had never missed a day. Not once.“There’s no need for you to serve me personally,” I said at last, returning my attention to the small pot of powder in my hand. “You may fetch another maid. Or return to your quarters. I won’t have you overworking yourself.”“As you wish…” she murmured.Silence stretched
Maureen Laskovic Vuk lay beside me on the bed, his body relaxed but radiating that familiar warmth that always drew me in. The sheets were tangled around our legs from earlier lazy lounging, and the dim light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows across his features. 'You're such a queen,' he murmured, his voice low and affectionate, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.I turned my head to look at him, inhaling deeply. God, he smelled incredible—like fresh pine mixed with something clean and inviting, the kind of scent that made my pulse quicken. 'Have you been using my shampoo?' I asked, arching an eyebrow playfully. He tried to stifle a laugh, his chest rumbling with it, but a chuckle escaped anyway. 'Together for worse… right?' he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he reached out to trace a finger along my arm."Yeah excluding my shampoo..." He gave me the dirtiest promising look, that sent shivers down my legs. 'You're sure a bad bad bad wolf…' I teased, m
Eryx:“How long would you be gone?" I asked, my voice barely stronger than breath.“Baby, it's just for a while… okay? I have something to do,” Nyxara murmured, kissing me slow and deep, like she was trying to leave warmth behind in case I forgot how it felt.That was a week ago.Seven nights.And I still taste her when I close my eyes.I still feel the press of her mouth, the way her fingers curled lightly into my shirt like she almost didn’t want to let go. I replay it so often the memory has begun to blur at the edges, and that terrifies me more than her absence.“Are you okay?” Azrael asked, sliding the coffee toward me.The steam curled upward. I stared at it too long.“Uhm… yes. Just—”“Missing our wife?”I nodded.Wife.I still wasn’t used to that word. It felt sacred. Heavy. Like something I didn’t deserve but had been gifted anyway.And now she’s gone.“For a while,” she said.My body hasn’t been right since.Sleep won’t stay with me. I wake in the middle of the night reachin
Vuk Kael LaskovicThe night sky stretched black and indifferent above the estate, stars half-hidden behind city haze. I leaned against the balcony railing, cigarette between my fingers, the ember glowing brighter with each slow drag. Smoke curled upward like a question I hadn't answered yet.My mind was a storm of half-formed thoughts—pack business, border, the endless calculus of power. And underneath it all, her.Then my phone buzzed against the stone railing.Caller ID: Little MoonI answered before the second ring.A soft, bubbly giggle filled the line.“Maureen.”Another giggle, brighter this time. Gods, that sound—it hit me low in the gut, familiar and dangerous.“Hi, handsome.”Her voice was syrup-slow, words bumping into each other. Drunk. Very drunk.I froze mid-drag. “You’re drunk.”“I’m elevated,” she corrected proudly, like it was a promotion. “Very… elevated.”My cigarette dropped. I crushed it under my boot without looking. “Stay put.”I was already moving—grabbing keys
MaureenI should have known the night was doomed to spiral the moment the theater lights dropped to black.The screen flickered awake. That signature low, creeping violin slithered through the speakers—the universal audio warning that something awful was coming. My stomach twisted before the first jump scare even landed.Nyxara leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “Why is it already so dark? Did we miss the opening credits?”“It’s a horror movie,” I whispered back, already questioning every decision that led me here. “They don’t waste time on pleasantries.”Ten minutes later, I was gripping my popcorn bucket like a lifeline. Twenty minutes in, Nyxara’s fingers dug into my forearm hard enough to leave crescent marks. By the half-hour mark, we were both trembling like leaves in a storm.Then the possessed woman started crawling across the ceiling—limbs bending wrong, eyes glowing, head twisting like an owl’s.Nyxara let out a sharp, involuntary yelp.I screamed louder—full-throat
NyxaraThe kids were gone—safely bundled into blankets and stretchers, carried away by the Northern wolves toward the waiting choppers. Their small cries had faded into the wind, replaced by the low thump of rotors and the sharp commands of medics. The warehouse behind us was a silent graveyard of
NyxaraI walked far enough that their voices finally faded into the relentless crash of the waves below.The cold sea wind whipped at my hair, stinging my cheeks, dragging salt across my lips. I needed this—the space, the bite of the air, something sharp enough to cut through the chaos in my head.
– Maureen Laurent“My glass,” he says, voice low and fierce. “And I will murder anyone who risks a single crack.”His arms are still around me, warm and iron-strong. The bond hums between us, bright and insistent, pulling me closer even as something inside me panics.I draw a careful breath.“Can I
– Vuk Kael LaskovićShe stood at the balcony doors, moonlight spilling over her like liquid silver, turning the bite on her shoulder into a living brand. My mark. My moon.I crossed the room in three strides, unable to stay away a second longer. My hands found her waist, careful—always so fucking c







