Alex Madson — An End to the Rat's Nest.Amari's Wood.Damn village of idealistic fools and failures.I dismounted my horse with my boots covered in mud and contempt.The air was foul. Hot, even in winter. It smelled of fear.“Open the gates,” I ordered, without bothering to shout.My voice alone carried enough authority. But, as expected, no one came running to open the dam gates.Those idiots still had hope.“Are you deaf? Open the damn gates!”The soldier at the top of the wall hesitated. He was trembling.Another one of Edward's dogs left to guard a village that was already doomed.Ah, Edward... If he were alive, I would even pretend to respect him.But at this point?If the executioner had been efficient, his head must already be swinging from a stake.“Sir Madson, this village is under the jurisdiction of the Empire. We are not allowed to let anyone in without direct orders from—”“I am the fucking order,” I interrupted firmly, spitting out each word with relish.My men laughed.
Marilyn Stokes — My Home. My Family.A crash.So deafening that it shook the walls and floor.That wasn't just the sound of wood breaking.It was our time... running out.The fragile peace that I and everyone in the village had built—the houses we had kept standing with sweat, scars, and hope—now crumbled with every scream that came from the gates.“They're here...” I whispered to myself, feeling my chest tighten.Julie was the first to move.Quick, brave. Like a true protector.She ran to Michelle and Megan, grabbing them by the arms.“We have to get out now!” she said, her voice firm, without faltering.Michelle was still weak, but her eyes were alert.She nodded, staggering a little, and Megan held her up.The two began to follow Julie to the back door, where there was a path that led to the back of the village... but I stayed.And that's when she noticed.Michelle stopped.She planted her feet on the ground and turned to me.“Marilyn?” she called, confused. “Why are you still here
Julie Marven – The Nightmare… It’s Back. And This Time, I’m Ready.My heart raced. A sharp thud in my chest. Like it knew—before I did—that the nightmare was about to begin again.A scream echoed outside. One of the guards. Edward’s men.They were panicking.“Oh Goddess…” I whispered, wringing my hands together. “Could the palace soldiers have found us already?”The memories crashed down all at once—the night we escaped, the terror, the chaos. And now it felt like it was all happening again.Marilyn stepped closer to me, her eyes scanning the surroundings, already calculating a way out.“That sound… that fear in his voice,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s not the kind of fear you feel when allies show up.”I froze.“No, sweetheart… that’s real, raw desperation.”My palms were slick with sweat despite the icy winter air seeping through the cracks in the wood.My legs moved before I could think. Instinct.I rushed to Michelle, who was struggling to sit up, eyes w
Marilyn Stokes. — The Dreaded Hour Has ComeIt was morning, and the soft sunlight slowly warmed the house. The weather was pleasant, not only the temperature, but also the feeling that emanated from the house. There was the smell of tea brewing, of freshly baked bread... and for a moment, just a moment, I could breathe in peace.I went downstairs slowly, my knees no longer obeying me as they once did, but still, I made no sound. I would rather not wake them.Megan slept curled up under an embroidered quilt, as if still protecting the life she carried. Julie slept beside her, sitting in a chair, her body leaning forward, like a guardian who never rested. And Michelle... ah, my dear Michelle. She was lying down, but with her face turned toward the window, her eyes closed. She was breathing deeply. Her face was still pale, but the signs of recovery... were there. Clear. Impressive.“Pure blood... has always been a miracle.”I sighed deeply and closed the door behind me, letting them rest
Anabelle Mixon — The Price of My Love.That... that wasn't the Matthew I knew. It wasn't the man I fell in love with. Much less the wolf I dreamed of conquering.When he ordered the executioner to cut off that man's head, in front of everyone, without hesitation... I felt it.I felt that something had happened to him. That my beloved Matthew had disappeared.My heart skipped a beat.I felt the cruel truth pierce me like an arrow: he was no longer a man... he was a beast. A demon of fury with burning eyes who had returned from hell to exact revenge for every curse cast against him.People began to panic. In desperation. But no one dared to run away. Not with that look of his piercing the crowd like a death sentence.I... trembled.For the first time in a long time, I was truly trembling.I saw my father ahead, rigid, his jaw clenched.He hadn't actively participated in the conspiracy—I knew that. But... he didn't do anything, either. Nothing to stop it. Nothing to help.And now it migh
Matthew Dawolf — Back to the Throne.It took me two damn days to get there. And each of those days was torture. I wanted to tear the forest apart with my paws and leave the ground marked by my claws. But he — my wolf — held me back. He said it wasn't time. That there was a right time to attack, to fight back, to crush them. He said that if we wanted to catch all our enemies and not let any of them escape, we had to be patient; everything had to be done at the right time. And I listened. For the first time, I obeyed without resistance. Because now we were one.And it was he who said, “They are on the platform near the prison. Your soul brothers. They are waiting for you.”I ordered the coachman to take me there. He looked at me confused but obeyed.When we stopped, I got out of the carriage before anyone had time to process what they were seeing. The whispers began. Murmurs turned into screams. Some people became ill. Others cried as if they had seen a miracle.I didn't care.My eyes w