A God Novels & Stories

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I growled. “She’s not your mother, Leda.” Lars said quietly. I raised my eyebrow, like I wouldn’t know my own mother?! He pointed toward a small golden plaque on the bottom of the portrait’s frame: ‘Sofie Guldbrandsen’ “She’s mine.” Everything went silent. All I could hear was the angry rush of blood in my ears. “I...I thought your name was Grimmor?” I stuttered; too confused to be apologetic. He smiled sadly and looked at the portrait. “A nickname – cruel, really. It means ‘ugly mother’ in Danish.” he told me

- a hoarse voice says behind me. When I turned around, I saw a huge gray and black wolf that seemed to glow. His eyes were stark white as if he were blind, but he looked me in the eye intently. - Who are you? Where am I? - I asked him. - I have many names, but you can call me Vánagandr. Before the Moon Goddess created the Werewolves, she created the Lycons, and before the Lycans there were only wolves. I am the father of all wolves. As for why you're here, you are between life and death in the great garden that will take you back to life or to the realm of the dead.

I shrug. “Okay, I like her.” she points to me and looks at Rhea. “I’m Veronica by the way. Veronica Ryan. Grade B.” “Grade?” I raise a brow, confused. “A Grade basically tells how dangerous a person is. And before you ask, the difference between A’s and B’s is that A’s have committed murder.” “But mine is asterisked?” “It’s never been given before but I’m guessing it means numerous counts of murder.” Yeah. That makes sense.

Lisa’s hands trembled as she sifted through the ancient texts in the folder. The weight of what Mia had uncovered pressed down on her like a physical force. The information before her was a tangled web of botanical knowledge, ancient rituals, and dark secrets. The *Sopor Veritas* was not just rare—it was an artifact of a bygone era, used in ceremonies that involved mind control, trances, and, in some cases, death.