Birth Of A God Novels & Stories

Humans may fear him or adore him for his power, but in Grass' eyes, he is nothing but a coward. Grass was Alpha Adam's Beta before Alpha Adam left the pack to live among humans. He lives now as Don, the big boss of the Mafia; some refer to him as the Godfather but behind all that quote-impressive title is a disgraced Alpha who runs away from its own pack. What Alpha would do that? Only an Alpha who feels incapable of doing its duties will!

Her touch was gentle, almost yearning, like she was greeting a forgotten god who once ruled the stars and now slumbered beneath the crust of a dying world. “The Firstborn were the original werewolves—not cursed humans, not turned by bite or blood. They were born of raw, untamed magic, forged in the primordial storms where gods dared not tread. Children of gods and monsters, they were the first pulse of wildness in a world still learning to breathe. They weren’t just beasts—they were elemental truths, each heartbeat a howl of creation and destruction. To witness one was to stand in the presence of nature’s fury made flesh.”

“So, when one happened for Ruhna, it became the talk of Paradise. All the gods and celestials have been waiting eagerly for the birth of a new god.” My breath caught in my lungs. A chill ran down my spine, leaving goosebumps all over my body. “We believe this new god will restore the balance our world lost long ago, especially after the Forced Activation.” In Paradise, one might be born a celestial, but the chance to become a god was rarely granted — for gods were not born; they were made. It all made sense now. Yandor’s desperation to take me to heaven. And even… My eyes flicked to Asher.

Before war broke loose between all begins my father had said that we as a pack could communicate with other packs no matter how far they were telepathically, however after the war a curse was placed by an evil and powerful spell bounder. Not only was our communication severed but all firstborns were created to breathe only one breath before parsing. Somehow I managed to survive being the firstborn of my Alpha father. We never understood how I continued to breathe, unlike many others who never got the chance. Hence my father nicknamed me lucky as I continued to grow and surpass death that so many other cubs could not. Since Ellis has read every book in hopes of finding a way to break the curs

He wouldn’t have mentioned this to me unless he had more information, and he confirms it in his next breath. “We ran the baby’s results against your DNA too. Looks like you’re going to be a father, Enzo.” My grip on the glass in my hand tightens so much that I’m surprised it doesn’t break. Though my expression doesn’t change, inside, my heart is racing as more unfamiliar emotions surge through me: surprise, anxiety and maybe even a tiny bit of happiness. This wasn’t part of my plan at all. In that split second, everything shifts, everything I’ve been working towards and everything I’ve made my priority.

The regrets surged. I didn't flinch. --- When I opened my eyes, the sun was setting. Hours had passed. I was still standing. My face was wet with tears I didn't remember crying. My throat was raw. But I was still standing. Fenra watched me from the edge of the circle. Her three eyes were unreadable. "You didn't break." "I almost did." "Almost is not broken." She stepped into the circle and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You're ready. As ready as anyone can be to face a seven-hundred-year-old Null who wants to become a god."

I didn't even finish my sentence. Orion jumped out of bed, got dressed, and sprinted out to fetch the descendant of Asclepius, the God of Medicine. The doctor arrived in less than fifteen minutes. He put his fingers on my wrist. He frowned, nodded, and shook his head. The room was dead silent. It was suffocating. Orion sat next to me. Worry was written all over his face. Finally, the doctor stood up and bowed. "Congratulations, My Lady. You are two months pregnant. The Hades bloodline is unique. You will give birth to soul crystals. The birth will happen within days."

“If I come back… can I stop him?” The gods exchange a look older than time. “You can try,” the Vampire Goddess says. And choice, the Moon Goddess murmurs, is the truest form of power. I close my eyes, feeling myself pulled toward something distant—toward blood and fire and grief still screaming my name. “Next time,” I say quietly, “I choose myself.” The moon flares. The darkness reaches. And somewhere far below, the world holds its breath— waiting to see what I become.

… Later on, my best friend told me how Clara aged at lightning speed and ultimately had to rely on expensive medical equipment to stay alive. Mirabelle, on the other hand, insisted on having Marcus' baby despite the scandal. However, because she was a woman of advanced maternal age who never went for prenatal checkups, her child was born with Down syndrome. She took her son to fight for the Pembroke family's inheritance, but they refused to acknowledge him and even sent Marcus to Rivora to lie low. With nowhere else to turn, she went online to livestream her sob story. The feud between them blew up so badly that it eventually made national news.

Even our enemies paused in their assault, transfixed by the impossible scene unfolding a queen giving birth in the middle of a cosmic battlefield, attended by the spirit of her dead husband and guarded by children who wielded elements like extensions of their own bodies. And there, in the eye of chaos, with battle raging around us across seventeen dimensions, I gave birth to impossibility. The child that emerged was not merely flesh and blood, though he was certainly those things. He was essence made manifest, spirit given form, hope crystallized into living reality. Born in light that made the surrounding stars seem dim by comparison, his first cry was not the wail of fear that marks most b