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Flesh and Fire

Author: Tyson Roy
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-07 10:50:09

The convoy moved through the Ashen Pass under pale daylight.

Elara rode at the front, flanked by her honor guard, her cloak of black flame trailing behind her like the last breath of a dying god. They had left Moonstone Keep at dawn, journeying east toward the Summit of Thrones, where the Vampire Trials would begin.

The air was brittle. The trees were skeletal. The very wind whispered rumours of treachery.

Lucien had warned of possible ambushes. Kael had scouted ahead. Saphira had checked the trails for traps.

But it wasn’t enough.

Because the Crimson Pact didn’t come from the woods.

They came from beneath.

It started with a shudder in the earth.

Then, a rumble.

Before Elara could signal the alarm, the road split beneath them — stone and soil exploding upward in a geyser of dust and bone. Screams followed. Horses reared. The Warriors fell.

Then came the shrieks.

Not human.

Not even Lycan.

They were twisted things — Pact-forged monsters with flesh like tar and eyes like bleeding stars.
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  • The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen   The World Unraveled

    They crossed the threshold at dusk.It was not an hour, but an ending. The sun had grown weary from the world’s demands, and the last light bled purple across the horizon as Elara and her company reached the scar in the sky. The rift shimmered above the earth, silver edged with violet, jagged as a shattered mirror. Its shape was neither circle nor gate, but something that defied naming, the edge of reality gnashing inward like the open mouth of an old god.There was no wind. No birdsong. No scent of moss or rain. Only the unnatural hush, the kind of silence that made the skin itch with memories of things never said. It was not peace. It was the pause before a choice.Elara drew up at the very brink, her horse restless beneath her, though she herself was carved from stillness. She was armorless, crowned by nothing, yet every soul behind her looked to her as if she bore the weight of every legend, every battle, every hope left unspoken.Kael rode at her right, eyes narrowed, jaw clenche

  • The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen   Fractured Realms

    "One lie can shake a kingdom. One truth can shatter a world."She had stared into the eyes of gods, those old, ravenous things that had shaped the bones of her world, and found herself unmoved. She had met their hunger with a quiet, steely “No.” In that moment, she’d felt the weight of a thousand crowns and a thousand lives shift. She had not sought to be a martyr, nor a monster. She had simply chosen not to become a weapon for anyone’s legacy, divine or otherwise.And the world had heard her. But it did not know what to do with her defiance.It did not know how to survive her mercy.It started subtle: the sky first, as if the heavens themselves were a pane of glass that could not bear the pressure of this new mercy. Stars cracked and bled. Constellations twisted, lions grew too many eyes, and serpents coiled to swallow the moon. The familiar shapes that had guided marin

  • The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen   Elara’s Defiance

    “You cannot birth peace from the bones of love.” “And I am no longer a queen who kneels to the gods of blood.”The palace had never been this quiet.Not even during war, when the dead filled the corridors and the windows rattled with the hammering of siege engines. Not even when Lucien’s last breath had swept through the Hall of Bones, taking the warmth from every hearth. Not even the night Elara had burned her memories in the fire, seeking oblivion or rebirth, she could not remember which.This silence was sacred.Not the hush of terror, nor the stillness of defeat. It was the silence that comes after thunder, when the storm has gone but the air is raw and alive. A silence made holy by the gravity of a choice that broke the spine of destiny.She had dropped the blade.Refused Kael’s sacrifice, refused Talia’s, too. Turned her back on the Onyx Witches and their promise of ascension. Refused to become a weapon w

  • The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen   Kael’s Choice

    Peace is not born in blood. But sometimes, it bleeds for you anyway.The sky above Kaer Nyx did not simply storm; it broke. Shards of midnight and starlight fractured overhead, splintering across the dawn in streaks of wild, ungovernable magic. The castle’s towers seemed to lean into the chaos, trembling as if afraid of what might come through those cracks. Air hissed and sang and howled, bent backward and inside out by a force that did not understand mercy.Lightning zigzagged in impossible patterns, clouds spun against their breath, and beneath it all, the bones of the world shuddered. From the castle’s eastern wing, Elara heard the unnatural music of water, streams rushing upward through the corridors, whispering the names of the long-dead in a tongue older than grief.She gripped the stone railing of her balcony, knuckles white, eyes fixed on the sky’s wound. Below her,

  • The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen   The Betrayal of Flame

    "Fire demands a price. And the final flame does not rise without blood."It began as a feeling in Elara’s chest, a hush that thickened the air, squeezing her heart with invisible hands. She had known magic her whole life. But this was not magic. This was an intrusion. Judgment. The old, cold law of the world creeping in when the fire of destiny ran out.She had been alone in her chambers, halfway through a letter she could not finish, when the candle on her desk flickered low and strange. Shadows thickened on the stone walls, then lengthened, stretching toward her feet. Smoke seeped through the ancient mortar, curling around the wooden floorboards, climbing the tapestries like spectral vines. The cold that followed was the cold of midnight earth, grave-deep, bone-true.Elara did not flinch, but her soul recoiled, remembering the stories. The Onyx Sisters. They came only when cal

  • The Forgotten Heiress: Rise of The Lycan Queen   Kael’s Return

    His mount was blood-streaked. His armour, splintered and scuffed, bore the story of a journey through hell.The gates of the keep yawned open in the predawn gloom, torchlight dancing off the ruined banners and splintered pikes. Kael Thorne rode in like the last storm of autumn, the world behind him stained and silent. The echo of his arrival rolled through the courtyard—first a whisper, then a hush so profound it made even the crows pause mid-call.Behind Kael, slumped and shackled, a shadow trailed in his wake.Talia Ravenshade.The girl who once finished Elara’s sentences.The girl who once shielded her from blades and palace whispers.Now, she walked shackled in chains etched with silver runes, their magic pressing her to silence. A thin smear of blood marked her jaw, half-washed by rain. Her cloak, once as dark as a raven’s wing, dragged in the mud.Kael’s own hands were stained, his gauntlets cracked, every inch of him screaming war. But it wasn’t his armour or the prisoner that

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