Azure Forsaken Novels & Stories

The air in the Underworld was different tonight. It was heavier, pressing down on my chest with every breath, as if the very atmosphere knew what was coming. Hayden and I had been hiding, waiting in this barren wasteland, but I could feel it in my bones—we were running out of time. The furies were close, closer than ever before, and the silence of this place only heightened the tension coiled within me.

“Prepare for what?” Varyn’s smirk returned, but there was no humor in it. Only certainty. “For the Forsaken who do not seek alliances.” A deeper growl rumbled from the distance, shaking the earth beneath them. The sky darkened, storm clouds twisting overhead. The Forsaken were no longer just a myth. And the real war was only beginning.

“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.”

Only through continuous combat would his sword exert even greater power. “The Four Forsaken?” Tyr sighed. “Never mind that Four Forsaken, even all of his Thirteen Forsaken of Oslo City came here. They have to remain here today.” Zeppelin asked, “How is your little girl’s situation? Tyr, she will not have any problems if her episode continues, right?”

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

“You think this matters? You’re already dead. You just don’t know it yet.” I squatted low. “Then educate me.” He laughed, a weak, broken thing. “You think this fortress is your weapon. It’s your tomb.” I slammed his head against the floor. “Wrong answer.” Jared didn’t flinch. Damon stood behind him, eyes burning. “She’s right,” Damon growled. “We were never meant to survive this.” I turned slowly. “Speak plainly.” He met my gaze. “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.”

**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.