Arcane Crossover Fanfiction Novels & Stories

Their only saving grace was the inheritance Evelyn Hert left behind—and this fragile marriage alliance with the Crosses. Too bad the groom-to-be was Damian Cross: the forgotten son, the unwanted heir, the one no one respected. Naturally, Rowan would never waste his precious Liana on someone like that. So, they shoved Aria into the fire instead. And Aria? She smiled like a fool. She blinked her big, stupidly innocent eyes, clapped her hands, and suddenly broke into a childish song: "In the land of little blue folks, where the mushrooms grooow—

Leon raised Owen face and wipe the tears on his eyes as he said. "Once we get married, there's no running away, no hiding, and most especially... No more ARCANUM.." He landed a sweet kiss on Owen's lips when the one he only love nodded his head. ~~~~~~~~~THE END~~~~~~~~ Author wants to thank those readers who never stopped reading it until this time. For my editor. And for Lord who never stopped giving me ideas. I love you all!!

RAVEN This can't be happening. How in the world am I getting married to the Lycan king of all people? Even worse, he's the Lycan I'd slept with. To worsen it further, he's my destined mate. Just how bad is my luck? His scent was annoyingly soothing, and my body just wouldn't stop aching for him. I should have known right from the start. He had imprinted on me without my permission. "I, Aries Dorian Leander, accept you, Raven Annette Declan, as my mate and bride. May the moon goddess bear witness to this day," he said, and my stomach tightened.

The late afternoon light hit her just right, catching in her hair, warming her skin, and making the faint shift in her silhouette impossible to ignore now. There was no hiding it anymore. Not that she’d tried. I watched her from across the room, arms loosely folded, attention split between her and the stack of parchment I’d left spread across the table behind me. Inked notes, copied texts, translated fragments from archives most people didn’t even know existed. Hybrid gestation. Dragon lineage anomalies. Bloodline convergence under bonded triads. Most of it had been buried for a reason. That hadn’t stopped me. “You’re staring,” Nora said without looking at me.

It’s not. I was born before instinct. I was born before bloodlines. I was death before the first howl echoed under the moon. A low chuckle vibrates from my chest as I scan the room one last time, taking in the stillness before the storm. It’s time. Time to awaken my army, to set the cursed wheels in motion. Tonight, I rise. Tonight, I cross the veil. And when I do—I will tear the divine from Anika’s bones and drink until there is nothing left but ash.

Still, its owner put up one final struggle to hold on to the dream - his pair of juicy pink lips quivered, releasing a whimpering, pleading meowl, as if he were a pitiful little kitten bullied by his owner until it had no choice but to beg for mercy. Yet, ironically, it was exactly this one soft sound that made everything come crashing down, leaving nothing but devastation in its wake. 💠 Author Note 💠 As this arc is nearing its end, I’ve started to brainstorm the next arc. As for what arc the next arc will be… dun, dun, dun! You guys have chosen the anima arc: Noah arrives into a magical world of animal lovers, where every person is accompanied by the manifestation of their soul – an anima

He had already paid my blood-debt to the world by pulling me out of that chapel alive. "Crowe..." Zorren trailed off, his voice dropping into a dangerous gravel. "He possessed your scent signature before tonight." "It was an ancient cycle," I whispered, staring into the dark chicory. "A dead life. I didn't anticipate his territory overlapping with the Vargan Dominion." "Amara—" "It's entirely consistent with his methodology, though," I interrupted with a forced laugh. "Attracting a rain of iron cross-bolts during his own binding ceremony. Typical Ronan. Always provoking the wrong apex lines."

I pressed the blade to the stone. “Aria,” I carved. The letters were shaky. The pack held its breath. Nothing. Luna Mother sighed. “As I thought. Guards—” I wasn’t done. “Of,” I carved. Still nothing. “No Pack,” I finished. I dragged the knife down, slicing my palm open. My blood hit the stone. My blood + his rejection + his baby. The stone _screamed_. Light exploded. White, blinding, pure. The entire circle lit up like daylight. The names of old Lunas glowed gold. And at the bottom, fresh and burning:

Their journey is filled with obsession, painful secrets, scorching tension, and the kind of love that burns everything down before it can rebuild something stronger. Writing their story reminded me that sometimes the most dangerous collisions are the ones that save us. To every reader who loves morally gray heroes, strong heroines who refuse to bend, and romances that hurt before they heal this one’s for you. Thank you for taking this ride with me. I hope Lucien and Ariana leave tire marks on your heart. Buckle up. It’s going to be a wild one. With gratitude and adrenaline, Mel ~Ariana Cross~ I was late again.

Arianna continued to stare at him, as the brightness became unbearable Lucas hurriedly stood up. He moved to the back shakily, he thought of other ways to overpower her. Arianna had already sustained fresh puncture wounds above and below her left eye and on her left front leg. Her face was bloody from above her eye. Arianna gathered strength, she started crawling towards the door. Her hands were about to reach the door handle when Lucas drew her by the leg. “You can’t cheat death this time,” Lucas said to her smiling victoriously. He used his long sharp claws to tear out chunks of flesh from her body.