Born In The Veil Novels & Stories

A few tosses and turns and I managed to relax and fall asleep. I woke up bright and early to prepare. I took a long bath to ease the nervousness I felt. After an hour, I went out of the bathroom in only my robes. Marina brought a bowl of yoghurt and a cup of warm coffee. “Mother said this is the only food you should eat for breakfast. Other things might make you feel bloated.” She looked at the things she brought and was disgusted. She neither likes coffee nor yoghurt. I took the coffee but I left the yoghurt untouched. “You should eat this. You might faint during the vows.” I rolled my eyes and took the yoghurt from her. As if this is enough to fill my stomach. Even if I eat this I’ll still

As she touched the bloodied coin, her mouth muttered the familiar chant repetitively. "Spirit, spirit of the coin. Please come out and play with me. Spirit, spirit of the coin, please come out and play with me." The effect takes place in an instant. The chilling wind is blowing harshly in Thalia's room. The curtains shook strong as if a gale stormed inside her room. Thalia bowed her head down and reflectively protected her face with her free hand as the torrent of wind became harsher as time ticked away. It took only a minute or two for the wind to die down, yet, it's felt eternity for Thalia. A rotten odor wafted into her nostril, and Thalia's nose scrunched in disgust.

At 21 years old, she was drowning in student debt, living in a tiny studio apartment that smelled like damp walls, and had no idea how she was going to survive the next month. That was when the email arrived. Subject: Exclusive Invitation – Veil Dear Ava You have been personally selected for Veil — an ultra-private, invite-only platform. Here, chosen individuals willingly share their most intimate moments with anonymous, high-paying observers. Total discretion guaranteed. Military-grade encryption. Compensation starts at $5,000 per private session and goes much higher based on your limits. If you’re curious… d******d the app. No pressure. No obligation. "Welcome to the other side.”

The rise and fall of her breathing. The way her hand curls slightly against the blanket like she’s holding onto something that isn’t there. The faint glow of the markings beneath her skin, barely visible unless you’re looking for it— Unless you know it’s there. My gaze lingers on them. Too long. Long enough that curiosity starts to push past restraint. Because I’ve seen those markings before. Not like this. Not living. Not moving. But in texts. Old ones. The kind passed down through generations with warnings attached to them.

I sat up, rubbing my throbbing temples, and walked to the window, pulling aside the heavy velvet curtains. Outside, a blizzard raged, blanketing the world in a chaotic swirl of white. And in that whiteness stood a solitary black figure. Daemon was wearing a thin black cashmere coat, completely covered in snow. A layer of frost coated his hair and eyebrows. He stood there, rigid, his gaze locked on the faint light of my bedroom window. I sighed, opened a black umbrella, and walked out into the swirling snow. The moment Daemon saw me, his lips already purple from the cold, he spoke with desperate haste.

Amelthia blinks her eyes for a good second and moves her eyes around the room as her eyes take in the white ceiling and walls and the 2 chairs set around with a table and a flower vase in the center of the table, moving on the other side she sees machines and around and then she notices the IV attached to her hand, she thought "Where am I?" As the thought crossed her mind the flashbacks from earlier started to cross her head as scenes of a movie. And when the reality hit her she jolted up looking around as her breathing again catches speed and she breathed heavily. She moves out of her sheets and pulls out the IV attached to her hand as she hisses in sudden pain. She lowered her head to see

Only that a voice whispered through the dark, soft as breath: “I found a way, father.” As the first rays of dawn touch the battlefield ruins, Ivy feels a sudden wind cut across the valley — carrying her daughter’s laughter and a second voice underneath it, the one that does not belong to any mortal child. “Two hearts, one cage. The door isn’t closed… yet.” The Veil ripples in the morning light, and something old moves beneath the surface of the world.

If he had finally gotten back his wife, his love and the mother of his daughter, then what about her, her love and their child, which was breathing inside her? What about Eizlina? If for him, she had always been just the veil of his first love, Ivara? What about her love, if she had always been The Veil Of Sinner?