Beldam Origin Novels & Stories

He doesn't seem to mind. "Kuma ina, m noblewoman daga mulkin Bellechester, kai ka as my daya kadai. Za ka, kuma, ka rike zuciyata a hannunka. Ka nuna mini yadda za a yi karfi da kuma yaki na soyayya ... kuma na jingina wannan unyielding soyayya a cikin zuciyata zuwa gare ku. Ina da gaske girmama su zama matarka da kuma sarauniya."

I can tell from the completely gobsmacked look on his face. “Damien, I think you are right. I am confounded and I believe you are going to have to start from the beginning. Slowly. Link it. What other deities? Why does Void want revenge on the moon goddess and how does a goddess have a mortal descendant?! You have been holding out on us.” Yeah, I figured. So I start from the beginning. The entire history of their forbidden love affair, Void’s destructive tendencies, and the child that came from that union.

My eyes never leave the jewel, it really is the most precious thing I have ever seen. "Belonging to the lineage of Winter women, being recognized as the most important and powerful females in the organization," explains Patrick. Untouchable women, with an irrevocable title, with the power to have an army at their feet ready to go to war if they so choose. She was from Margaret de Winter, wife of Konrad Winter; Bernadette de Winter, wife of Roderick, your grandfather. She almost belonged to Juliette Broz when she almost married your father. The Dame belongs to the Königin of the Sacra Corona Unita. I stay looking at them and the jewel for a few minutes in complete silence until laughter climb

“The Crown of Eldara.” Damien’s eyes narrowed. “The cursed relic? I thought it was a myth.” “No.” She stepped closer. “It’s real. And if Kael had this, then everything we thought we knew is a lie.” According to legend, the Crown of Eldara granted its wearer not just dominance over wolves, but control over fate itself—an artifact tied to the first Alpha, born from the moon goddess’s own will. “I think Kael was trying to bind it to himself,” Aria whispered, piecing together the truth. “He never wanted just power over packs. He wanted to rewrite destiny.”

The descriptions were vague but promising, used to quiet inner turmoil, to bring stillness to the soul. But as I read further, the words darkened. Velmira was not for healing, it was for severing. A deadly elixir used in ancient times to sever forced mate-bonds. My breath caught. The scroll said it was developed by a powerful woman, a healer, or what they called a shaman back then. She’d created it as protection for girls, for victims. For those bound to men who should never have touched them. The records said it smelled like roses, soft, sweet and subtle. Masked in elegance.

He was eager about food and fights. He loved the queen. And the Queen did the same. But it’s just that Lord Bellingham wasn’t from a rich family but King Gerald. So, for political purposes, she was forced to marry the King. But that didn’t stop her from meeting him. After she gave birth to Orion with the King, she felt her life was done. But she met with Lord Bellingham and made love. She gave birth to a girl. But she was lost. The baby wasn’t a kid but a grown woman. She might have been sold or something must have happened. But still, he didn’t give up the search, he continued. He married another woman and had children. But that didn’t hinder his search.

Hammond, the cemetery caretaker, about Queen Malinda's upbringing. The story that everyone had heard about her was that she came from a nice house in the East Village when the crown prince of the time spotted her, but according to Mr. Hammond, Malinda was an orphaned teenager who became pregnant and had a bastard child before the crown prince met her and she had to give up her child in order to pursue the future king of Briarglen.

Velda became rebellious believing that she wasn't allowed to be Alpha because she was female. However, on their 21st birthday, an opportunity was given for her battle for the title of Alpha of which she failed woefully. It was a free and fair fight on a cold night on top of the mountains of Alparo before the full moon. Velda was unsatisfied and felt that the moon goddess wasn't on her side, that she was being ganged up on and opposed because of her gender. Velda almost went rogue, she was powerful and had learned spell casting.

Her name: Elara Vale. The convent called it an external placement program. An act of gratitude for his generous donations. But Damien knew the truth. It was a transaction. And it intrigued him far more than he’d like to admit. A virgin. A girl who had never been touched, never spoken to a man without a prayer on her lips. A girl who would blush at bare ankles, tremble at coarse language, and bow her head when addressed. She would be his maid. Damien wasn’t a man of faith. But he had rituals of his own. And breaking this one would be deliberate. Exquisite.

Four centuries I had worn this face or rather, four centuries I had worn variations of it. Christina Bathory. The last lady of a crumbling household in 1650. I remembered the feel of velvet gowns heavy with jewels, the pearls that coiled my throat, the men who kissed my hand while whispering that the Bathory line was cursed. They were right. I cursed it myself. Bella Donna Chasmir in 1790, when I let my hair flow chestnut brown and wrapped myself in French silks. I owned salons then, the kind where men spilled politics between glasses of red wine, never realizing the red I tasted wasn’t from the bottle.