Aphmau House Novels & Stories

Amara’s POV The Abuja safehouse is a two-storey concrete block in Garki—unmarked, no signage, windows blacked out with heavy film. Inside smells of fresh paint, gun oil and instant coffee. We’ve been here forty-one hours. No one has slept more than three consecutive hours. The containment case sits on the kitchen table under a single hanging bulb—blue glow leaking around the edges like cold fire. The vial inside hasn’t moved, hasn’t changed, but it feels heavier every time I look at it.

The Okafor home was as Darren had once described - “subtle but grand.” Nestled in the heart of Highgate, the sleek three-story townhouse exuded quiet wealth. Its brick exterior was softened by a pristine front garden where rose bushes stood at perfect attention, their blooms a riot of deep reds and soft pinks. The wrought-iron gate opened with a gentle click, and as they stepped through, Amara felt the first stirrings of nerves flutter in her stomach.

Laughter echoing in the still-warm air. Luca turned to Amara and slid a small velvet box across the table. She froze. “Don’t panic,” he said. “It’s not what you think.” She opened it slowly. Inside was a key. “To the house,” he said. “The one down the street. With the big kitchen. And the bedroom Noah picked out himself.” Her eyes shimmered. “You bought a house?” “I bought our house.” Tears slipped down her cheek, and Noah grinned. “Can we paint my room like outer space?”

Thirty minutes later, two vehicles pulled into the compound of an old colonial-era house tucked behind a neglected Anglican church in the heart of Yaba. From the street, it looked abandoned. Paint peeled from the walls. The gate leaned awkwardly on rusted hinges. Weeds covered the driveway. Perfect. Damian looked around. "This is your safe house?" Father Michael smiled. "This is Samuel's first office." Amara stared at the building. "This is where everything started?" "Yes." He unlocked the front door. "And where, perhaps, everything will end." Inside, the house was nothing like its exterior. The rooms were clean. Electricity worked.

Sometime later, we arrived at the pack house, the largest building in the territory. It wasn't often that I found myself setting foot inside this place, as it was usually reserved for Felix's favorite werewolves. The large two-story building had an open lounging area with a grand staircase leading up to the rooms above.

I told her which seemed like an order . Me : Are you ok ? Amah : Do l look ok ? She answered with a question then rolled her eyes , her stinky attitude bores me . I decided to keep quiet and drove to the nearest pharmacy . Kept on stealing glances at her on the view mirror , it's not by mistake that her name is Amahle , in fact it doesn't do justice on her true beauty . I got outside the car and made way inside the pharmacy where I bought pain killers then drove home .We walked inside the house and I prepared the bathroom for her .

Ama wandered through the silent streets. A strange feeling settled over her. Not loneliness. Expectation. As though the city was waiting. In the center stood a massive circular plaza. At its heart rose a single monument. Not a statue. A mirror. Twenty feet tall. Framed in living vines. Its surface shimmered like liquid glass. Ama stepped closer. This time, her reflection did not appear. Instead... Countless faces emerged. Men. Women. Children. Old. Young. All smiling gently. Then, one by one...

she asked. “I can’t tell you until you promise not to tell anyone. Not even Leo. Please, sorella…it’s important,” I said firmly. “Can you promise?” Amara stared long and hard at me, and it was kind of unnerving because she had a very magnetic, authoritative presence to her. But eventually, she sighed and gave me a nod. “Fine. I promise. Tell me what it is ” she said. “What do you know about Casa degli Schiavi or the Slave House?” I asked. Amara blinked at me, her eyes widening and darkening a bit, her expression going from calm to kind of worried or maybe scared?

The next day, Ama jumped out of bed with a determination to make progress on her mission. Her plan was to get as much information as she could get about the blackwoods starting today. She rushed through her shower, got dressed, and then headed for the servants' hall, only to find it empty. She stood staring at a wall, hoping an answer would magically appear. Then, a group of men hurried by her. She rushed along the path they took. Soon, she found herself in a part of the mansion she had never seen before. Ama took a deep breath. She saw a grand hall filled with servants. They were all busy with different tasks.

And finally Amar and Rio relented and finally let Kalf come with them to Malang to see the three of them's house being built. "You are stubborn elder." said Amar indignantly at his one friend. Kalf, who had been listening to Amar talking non-stop, thought that the radio was broken. Because Kalf wanted to see how the three of them house was under construction. The three of them went to Malang city. Because Amar still hasn't told his wife about building their house. Amar with his power, he easily ordered famous contractors and architects to handle the three of them. And no half-hearted Amar poured money for the construction of his house this time. And the preparations Amar also prepared carefu