Behind The Veil Novels & Stories

She approached the small kitchen in surprise, where a smiling Arthur welcomed her with a cup of the exquisite beverage, which is why she stared at him strangely. “You, making coffee?” “So you can see that I am a good apprentice,” he smiled, showing his perfect row of teeth. She watched him like a fool and the memories of that delicious kiss flooded her mind. But thanks to the veil covering her face, he didn't notice her blush. “I was investigating an exit that will take you to the main road, from there you can take the destination you want,” he commented as she was examined by his beautiful brown gaze, which at that moment was covered by a hint of sadness; although Arthur wanted to return to

As long as 'they' leave him alone, he gladly becomes a blind and deaf person, momentarily. Fifteen minutes passed in an excruciatingly slow manner. A startling scream is sounding from behind, and it is a girl's scream. Rather than a scream, it's more like a desperate wailing. He felt shivers running down his spine. That scream spelled trouble for him. Should he investigate? He shouldn't, right?

Amelthia went in as Felix has told her to. Who knew something more was waiting for her inside. The small light in the hallway brightened the way up to the room. She climbed the stairs and opened the door of her room. But before she could open the door completely a hand appeared and was pressed on her mouth preventing her from screaming or making any kind of sound. the smell of chloroform took over her, she slowly felt her legs getting weak and everything went dark.

At the bottom, the passage opened into a cavern veiled in a pale, silver mist. The priestess stopped beside me, her eyes as sharp as a wolf’s. “This is the Veil,” she said. “The goddess’s test. It spares no one with an impure heart. Wolves go feral if they are false. Humans…” She paused, gaze cutting deep, “…lose their minds.” A shiver ran down my spine. The mist curled around my ankles like cold fingers, breathing secrets I couldn’t understand. “What do I have to do?” I asked, voice tight.

she said hoarsely, “the Veil didn’t close.” The wind died. The glow beneath them pulsed once more, brighter—then stilled. Somewhere deep below, something laughed.

He put it back on the shelf. He pulled another. The Veil is not a place, this one said. It is a space between. Between life and death. Between worlds. Between what is and what could be. To enter the Veil is to leave the self behind. To leave the body, the mind, the soul. To enter is to risk never returning. He set it aside. Another. Blood Magic: Origins and Applications. He opened it.

Then he turned and left the set without a glance in my direction. I remained behind, my skin still tingling from the ghost of his touch, my heart still pounding. This was not merely a show. And I suspected that we were both on the verge of discovering it.

He staggered but kept coming. Marcus tackled him, but in the struggle, the attacker activated a hidden device. A blinding flash and gas began pouring in. Pera coughed, vision blurring. Marcus reached for her, bloodied and fierce. “Pera hold on!” Her legs gave out as the gas took effect. The last thing she saw was Marcus fighting like a beast, roaring her name, before darkness swallowed her. When her eyes fluttered open moments later, she was being carried roughly over someone’s shoulder down emergency stairs, away from the penthouse. Not Marcus.

Then… “There is a place,” it said, its tone lowering, almost… reverent. “Hidden. Forgotten. But deeply desired by many.” A chill slid down my spine. “A place where lust rules over control… where wolves do not hide what they are.” My breath caught. “What is this place…?” I whispered. “The Veil of Veythra,” the voice answered. The name alone felt heavy… like it carried secrets older than the walls around me. “It is where desire and power intertwine,” it continued. “Where the body speaks truth… and the soul cannot lie.”

Charlie stepped toward it and felt her skin prickle, the same electric pressure she felt before a storm breaks. "What is that?" she whispered. "A ward," Wren said. "My mother specializes in them." "You didn't mention she's a witch." "She's not." Charlie gave him a look. "Wren, this is witch behavior." "She's... something else." Before she could demand clarification, Wren lifted his hand and pressed his palm to the veil. The barrier rippled like disturbed water, then parted, revealing a narrow passage of swirling silver light. Wren gestured. "After you."