Arch Enemy Book Novels & Stories

He plasters a barely noticeable quirk on his face. I pull myself together and straighten my shoulders. This pulls at my injured side and ruins the effect entirely. "Where am I?" I ask. "Who are you and how…?" I gestured to the bed,"...did I find myself here?" He uncrosses his ankle and sits forward while resting his forearms on his knees. "My name is Zac Arden," he said. "You are in White Fang territory." White Fang. I widen my eyes. White Fang? The enemy's territory? Oh no!

S. ______ This book is gonna cover many issues like this! Please have patience with me. I love all of you who are still giving it a read you guys, this means a lot xx

Elizabeth's point of view: When I was done showering, I took one of the books that I grabbed yesterday from the library and I started reading. Besides getting the information I need, this book does me a great favor by keeping me company. I took one book that's called {The enemy 'Lycans}. It's a book written by the vampire scientist and philosopher 'Athan Denovo'. As expected, this one defined Lycans as the enemy number one of the vampires since they are quietly as strong as the vampires.

I barely slept last night preparing for this day. "UGH!!!" In my frustration I accidentally knocked the book on my table and it hit the ground with a loud thud. Ace immediately ran and picked the book up. "What the hell are you doing!?" He yelled. "Books are precious artifacts for learning and you just throw them away because I am keeping you company!?" He flared up in anger and he inspected how much damage I have caused on the book. In that moment, I realized that I am not so unlucky after all. PRINCE Ace is a bookworm.

Inside, the air felt colder. Thicker. Like every book here breathed a little on its own. Some were chained shut with silver locks. Some had covers made from materials I didn’t want to guess at—scales, bone, darkened velvet. Alaric reached for one specific volume. Thick. Heavy. Black leather with a sigil embossed on the front: a circle surrounding a cracked mirror. “This,” he said quietly, “is the kingdom’s only known complete record on necromancy.”

I picked it up off the floor in the morning and read it standing in the doorway of my room, with the grey light coming in through the window and the palace quiet around me. Five seals. Five packs. I knew the names. I had grown up learning the names of every Alpha in the Blood Kingdom the way you learn the names of weather systems when you live somewhere the weather could kill you. Iron Ridge. Hollow Crest. Varden Falls. Stonefall. Ashfen. I read it through once. Then I sat on the edge of my bed and read it again.

I aimed at wema, the bullet barely brazed her ear and she screamed. Always screaming. She covered her ear, gripping father's suit and fuming at me. "Dune!!" Father yelled and my wolf snapped before my eyes. His cowered a bit, like he feared the very thing in me. "You weren't deaf when I claimed her as mine, were you?" Everyone went silence as I stepped closer to father who gnashed his teeth. "Get ready old man" I placed the nuzzle of the gun to his chest. "If anything goes wrong with her, you unleash the beast in me"

Then she added, “But that’s not the same as not wanting you.” Lorenzo blinked. That was the closest thing to softness she had allowed in weeks. But even softness in Aria’s mouth tasted like steel. He nodded. Then turned to go. She didn’t stop him. Because she knew what came next. The world was tilting. The players were repositioning. The game had changed. And war didn’t make room for comfort. Only kings and queens who were ready to kill for what was theirs. ~~~~~~~~~~ That night, before sleep could find her, Aria opened the Book of Ashes again.

* Alpha Archer * I could feel the slight tremble of my land beneath the march of the Southern warriors invading. Even before I saw them crest the ridge, I smelled the scent of their blood, the iron, sweat, and the musk of wolves bred for war, not honor. Alpha Douglas's banner split the horizon like a wound, black and crimson snapping in the wind, his warriors flooding the valley as if they meant to drown the West in numbers alone. But I never felt afraid; I am ready to take them on!

The cut on my shoulder was just a silvery-pink line. The only thing that hadn't healed was the cold, hard knot of rage in my chest. That, I nurtured. I read until my eyes burned. The books were not a gift. They were a threat. Pack Law and Governance. The Great Wars. Blood Oaths. It was the rulebook for a game I was already losing. And Ares, the game master, had not returned. He was letting me stew. Letting me arm myself, just to make the game more interesting.