Beginning After The End Arthur Novels & Stories

Because suddenly everything made sense. The disappearance. The distance. The silence. The years. Arthur wasn't avoiding Elara. He was honoring Jonathan. Honoring a boundary. A painful one. "He was afraid." Arthur smiled sadly. "Afraid you'd cling to anyone who reminded you of him." A pause. "Afraid you'd stop moving forward." Another pause. "Afraid you'd spend your whole life looking backward." The garden fell silent around us. Birdsong. Wind. Distant voices. Everything else faded.

He knows the cage just got smaller. I look at Arthur, who is laughing with a drink in his hand. The music ends. The trap is shut.

"Our Marking Ceremony—" I cut him off. "Raelor, stop doing meaningless things. There’s no possibility between us anymore." The line went dead. Raelor remained kneeling on the ground, blood coating his lips. Only then did he understand. The girl who had followed behind him for twenty years truly did not want him anymore.

Arthur giggles hearing me say that. “I should’ve known that you won’t satisfied with me. I am the one who is missing you, I really want you to get back and pay your losing bet” he laughs so hard and I throw a pillow at him. I was hoping he’ll forget about that bet. A day after arrived in this village, he and I made a bet about who will be the first to be involved in the love affair here, at that time I held Kathy's name, while Arthur held Anneth. And now it was clear that it was Anneth who had a chance to have a scandal with Dave. My defeat required me to accept all of Arthur's orders for 3 days. I don't think it's going to be difficult, considering that Arthur also always wakes up at 1 pm s

Arthur’s pulse steadied, oddly calm. “Central grounds. My terms—no wolves. Hand to hand. It ends on submission or incapacitation.” Fair. Brutal. Final. Evander picked up his water again. “Tell your people.” And just like that, it was decided. He walked away without another word. Arthur remained where he was, standing alone in the pale light of early morning. The world was beginning to wake around him, but he felt strangely separate from it—like he had stepped into something that existed outside of time.

My walls clenched around him, milking his cock as he spilled inside me with a shudder. We stayed like that for a long moment afterwards – him buried deep inside me, both of us panting and sweating in the aftermath of our lovemaking. Finally, Arthur pulled out and rolled off of me, lying beside me on the couch. I turned to look at him, my heart racing in my chest. He was still panting lightly. His hand traced lazy patterns on my hip, his breathing gradually slowing. “Don’t worry, Aurora, this will end soon, even if it means declaring war on Lars."

“These are the wolves that confessed themselves as traitors as far as I’m concerned. If this war did anything at all, it sorted the bad unloyal wolves from the good ones,” I think about what Arthur is saying. Part of me attributes his attitude to his cold up brining, but maybe he has a point. Or maybe the war has hardened me too. “I think this is a new start, Little Wolf” Arthur adds more gently. A cool breeze passes between us and beyond the stench of rotting flesh is the hinted aroma of leaves beginning ready to fall. I let out a deep breath. “I’d like to experience an ending before any new things start,” I add mostly jokingly. I think back on the events that occurred over the last several

The perfect silence is broken. The balance is now imperfect. The draft dies down. The leaves settle. But everything has changed. Arthur has stopped cutting his meat. His knife is poised in mid-air. He’s staring at the now-still plant. I look at my son. He gives me a small, unrepentant shrug. The game is on again.

"The Audit is public. The people have their signatures back." ​"The people have paper, Aara," Arthur said, finally turning to face us. He looked older, his eyes sunken but burning with a frantic, messianic light. "Paper rots. Paper burns. Paper is a temporary comfort for a temporary species. I am building a Permanent Narrative."

Julian stammered, trying to regain some shred of dignity as he backed toward the door. ​"It was over the moment you laid a hand on my daughter," Arthur said, turning his back on him and returning to his desk. "Now, get out. And Julian? Don't look back. I find that when people look back at me, they tend to trip and fall. And in this city, falls can be very... permanent." ​Julian scrambled out of the library, the doors swinging shut behind him with a final, heavy thud. ​Arthur sat back down, the adrenaline fading into a cold, sharp focus. He didn't care about Julian’s insults. He didn't care about the Montgomery name. He only cared about the signal.