In the heart of the vast desert, two men clashed in hand-to-hand combat within an arena carved entirely from stone. The blazing sun bore down on them, conditions in which Adorus thrived, while Orion struggled. Yet he did not dare give up.Four days had passed since Adorus had begun his training, but Orion remained weak, worn down by the continuous backlash, showing little progress. The Sun God’s patience waned, his attacks growing fiercer as he swung his fiery cane with effortless precision, one hand mockingly folded behind his back.Relentless, he broke Orion’s bones and battered him to a pulp each day, only to heal him afterwards.Now, his movements driven by irritation, Adorus aggressively struck Orion’s chest with a swift jab of his cane, hurling him from the arena. Orion crashed onto his back, the impact knocking the wind from his lungs, yet he forced himself back to his feet, despite the pain.“You are useless! To think I would ever allow you to become my daughter’s mate!” Adoru
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months since Orion and Silas returned to Silver Forest. Whispers among the animals spread like wildfire, rumours that Rose Thorn Forest and its surrounding territories had fallen under the grip of a malignant, powerful force.Word also spread of the Valencia Lupus Bellatores’ disappearance, a young girl of only fifteen.Orion held his head in his hands, silent tears slipping through his fingers… just like his mate, his hopes and the will to go on had slipped away. Silas remained quiet, listening to his broken person’s thoughts while curled protectively around Angela.They were in a pitiful state, hollowed by the repercussions of betrayal. Orion's fated mark was gone, lost beneath festering flesh. At first, Silas had shifted into his wolf form, hoping it would heal as normal scars would, but it was no use; no magic could mend a defiled holy bond. The rot spread instead, Orion’s chest and shoulder turning a sickly grey, as his health worsened each p
The new year had settled into its fourth month. Draven had just returned from his hunt, his mood soured by failure, unable to find Silas, and unsuccessful in locating the final Lupus Bellatores. He had abandoned the tower entirely and taken refuge in the territory of his ancestral home. There, he restored the ruins of the castle he had once lived during Crustblood's reign. Deep in the dark forests, he began to reclaim the surrounding land as his own. He was preparing for war.He effortlessly teleported to the master chambers where his prize was fast asleep. A woman dressed in period clothing as a chambermaid bowed before leaving the room. Alinta was free to roam the vast castle, but because of her delicate state, she spent most of her time either in bed or in the library.“Breathtaking, as always, my sleeping beauty,” Draven sighed in utter satisfaction, his anger almost instantly diminished at the sight of her.He grinned as he gazed upon his desire. She looked radiant and flawless,
It had been three days since Kyle's disappearance, and the memory of the CCTV footage replayed in Orion's mind.On the recording, Kyle had just entered the police station and was walking down the long corridor towards his office. As he reached for the handle, a dark, shadowed force engulfed him and then vanished. Two people rushed towards the spot, completely taken aback by what had happened.Now confined to a small hotel room, Orion sat on the ground, struggling to hold himself together. Defeat weighed heavily on him; uselessness gnawed at his soul. He had failed again, failed to protect his mate, and now… a dear friend. He heaved hollow sobs, his tears soaking his hands, not knowing what to do anymore.Everything seemed as though it was already too late. There was a shift in the atmosphere, a premonition that something terrible was about to come.The backlash from the betrayal of the bond now struck tenfold. He hunched over, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of him by
The ghastly sight of the dungeon evaporated, now replaced by the view of a magnificent medieval chamber fit for a king. Its interior extravagantly draped in rich fabrics of violet and onyx. The air carried the strong scent of velvety burnt amber, and low candlelight cast its glow, accommodated by subtle flickers from excited flames licking at its burning wick. Draven’s heavy steps upon the black marble floors echoed through the room as he eagerly made his way to a vast, richly carved ebony four-poster bed.He carefully laid Alinta upon its silken sheets. His gaze rested on her, his features softening as it shifted to doting obsession. Once he was satisfied with her peaceful state, he strode towards a luxurious armchair close by, settled in it, and closed his eyes.One last task remained; something he had been anxiously anticipating for months."You were able to mark her?!" Bellinor roared in fury as he realised his voice had returned, but he broke into a sudden scream as an unknown fo
Content Note: This chapter contains themes of emotional manipulation and distress. Reader discretion is advised.Draven relished the delicious fear Alinta exhibited. He cleared his throat to conceal his growing excitement, but wore a remorseful mask.“That title is reserved for Draven, dear maiden,” he sang fiendishly. “A powerful being in his own right, who so masterfully bested me.”“Y-you returned as Sorceress Elda Hammelelch predicted… You… h-have been here all this time, watching…” Alinta whispered in utmost trepidation.How naive she had been not to make the connection sooner. Though she loved myths and legends, never had she imagined the fabric of lore materialising in her existence today. She remembered it as clear as day: at the Villa, when Draven first spoke to her, it had not been Onyx. She had even thought about Bellinor having a third persona then.“Yes, I was present the whole time, because I owed Bellinor a few wishes for allowing me to reside in his spirit, until I hav