Azure Forsaken Novels & Stories

“We don’t have time for this family reunion bullshit. Those golden-eyed freaks are still coming. If the Forsaken are here, Michelle is using them as cleanup crew to finish off whoever survives.” The lead Forsaken took another step closer. I wonder how it had so many scars on its body. Who or what had it been fighting?. “Choose, Kade Thorn. Side with your blood. Or die with these broken wolves you call a pack. We offer power, real power. Not the collars and drugs of false gods.”

All I can do is pray silently that the nightmare will end as soon as possible. "First things first, Alpha Amon. We didn't come here to answer your questions. We're here to hear answers to our questions, straight from the source." The Elder sets down his glass and glares at me. "You have my full attention, Elder Mercury." "Two days ago, we received a report claiming that an Obsidian lives in this area. It calmed that the Obsidian isn't a part of this pack. Is that true? We assume that you, as the Alpha, would know." My gaze shifts to the voice I haven't heard before. Sitting in place of the old Nightcrawler is his son. I guess the old fart finally died.

When the blood moon rises, so do the broken. The sky burned crimson. The Blood Moon had arrived. But instead of awe or ceremony, the Academy prepared for war. Ava stood in the war chamber, a map of the Forsaken territory unrolled before her. Pins marked border points, strongholds, and one in particular: The Hollow Bastion, buried deep beneath the Ashfang Mountains. “They’ve turned it into their fortress,” Silas said, his voice low. “If we hit it now, we cut off the Forsaken’s source of power—and Lucien’s.”

Even Orion's posture fluctuated, just a step—but not enough to seem afraid, but enough for the doubt to show in his expression. Ryker's eyes… they weren't just red. They glowed. And that was rare. A blistering crimson only seen in Alphas after the sacred ritual. But not everyone had it and not everyone experienced it. And this would be the first time Ryker would experience it. He hadn't just been appointed. He had been chosen and now, whatever buried inside him was breaking free. Orion whispered under his breath, shaking his head as if he could deny what he was seeing. “No… no.”

"You said the same thing back then, and look how that turned out." When Nicky was first starting out, I lived with her in a cramped basement and ate cheap takeout. She was moved by my dedication and promised to buy me everything I wanted once she succeeded. However, those promises faded and were replaced by contempt. I would rather see her dead than offer her a fresh start. "Jensen, I was wrong. Ryan clouded my judgment. Please forgive me. I can't live without you," she pleaded regretfully. I looked at her without an ounce of sympathy and replied, "I don't love you anymore, Nicky. I've never felt more at peace since I left you. If you can't go on, then go ahead and end it. Maybe you'll meet

“There’s more. We didn’t just find spies. We found sigils carved into the inner foundations. Old runes. Blood runes. The kind that summon the Forsaken.” Jared’s face turned to stone. “That’s impossible. Those creatures haven’t walked the realm since the Burning War.” “Tell that to the corpse we found in the granary,” Damon replied. “Its heart was missing. And its eyes were sewn shut.” A long silence followed. Elias started laughing. “You think Xavier fears your blades? He’s raising the dead, Rhea. And you’re standing in a fortress that’s already cursed. You don’t win this.”

**Kelly Thompson's POV** The fortress is no longer a fortress—it’s a *nexus*. The oak’s roots have grown beyond the crystalline forest, threading through the fabric of reality itself. The flowers bloom in every color imaginable, their petals shimmering with fragments of timelines both lived and unlived. The Forgotten who remain have become something else entirely—guardians, gardeners, or perhaps prisoners. Their mutations have stabilized, but their eyes hold a distant, almost reverent glow. They call the oak **the Worldheart** now, and they speak of it in whispers, as if afraid it might hear.

Three years later. The wind in Burkeen howled, dragging snowflakes along the pavement. The heavy car door was pulled open with respectful precision. I tightened the sable coat around my body as I stepped out. Arthur's arms were strong and steady as he held our two-year-old daughter, Emily Graham. Our private driver jogged forward, holding up a large black umbrella to shield us from the snowstorm. Up ahead, a hoarse voice hawked, "Handmade soaps! Lavender and rose oil—"

“This is witchcraft.” Victoria’s brows furrowed. “The Forsaken.” The name sent a chill down Aria’s spine. She’d read about them in the archives. A rival sect. Power-hungry witches who’d broken away from the Devoted centuries ago — the same ones who’d once hunted her ancestors. If they were working with wolves now… it changed everything. “Can you break it?” Rafe asked, impatient, his wolf pushing to the surface. Aria stepped closer to the door, brushing her fingers over the symbols. The metal was cold, humming faintly with power. She could feel the layers of enchantment, twisted and cruel, like a snare waiting to spring.

Now he was out of reach. I no longer loved him as an innocent child. He had changed into something else, something I couldn't even begin to understand. A council of gods watched above in the broken sky, silent and motionless, their eyes gleaming with old strength. The Forgotten Gods were the ones who had long ago banished themselves to the Hollow World. Their faces were difficult to distinguish because they had ethereal, changing features that resembled water reflections. They were no longer idle observers, but they had been silent before. I could sense their presence, each of them standing tall like towering shadows in the sky. Their eyes were trained on the child—my son—as he floated above