Born With The Veil Novels & Stories

“You’re the other heir.” She took a step back. The fire around her hands flared again — defensively. Zara stepped forward. “We mean you no harm. You were hidden for a reason. It’s time you understood why.” “I don’t even know you,” the girl said, voice tight. “You will,” I told her. “Because the Veil just woke up between us. And it never does that without purpose.”

The brightness of the morning sun shone through my window as I stood in sharp contrast to the chill that was beginning to settle in my chest. I gazed at the ceiling, I could hear the city's subtle hum awakening all around me. My mind was a whirlpool of feelings that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I would put on the bride-to-be mask, answer boring questions, and smile for the cameras today. I wasn't just any Fiancée, but the a Presley's bride"

“He will not accept this bond, just as I do not. Fae and Lycans do not mix. The veil is in place for a reason.” My anger begins to surface, and I ball my fists up at my side. “The veil is there because you made it so. Anila built it, and she can tear it down.” He mocks me by throwing his head back in laughter. “Tell him the rest.” Anila’s milky eyes look in my direction. “She is not born yet. You will have to wait a century for her.” “So,” I scream. “I have waited one. I can wait another.”

Thousands of them. Selene staggered as one voice hit her like a blade of her own. A memory of her scream during childbirth. Aelira’s first cry. Her lover’s whisper in the dark: “We’ll protect her. Even if the world burns.” She fell to one knee. Aelira’s voice called down from the tear. “The Veil isn’t a wall. It’s a wound. And I am the key they carved from your flesh to open it.” “No,” Selene whispered, forcing herself upright. “You are not a weapon. You are my child.”

Sylvara’s voice trembles, “We’ll give what it takes, Aelys.” The oracle-entity’s aura surges at the abyss’s core, its crystalline form radiating black-star voids, its twin-void eyes blazing as it claws at Elara’s essence. “The Veil is mine!” it roars, rifts tearing through the spires, the reborn world quaking beyond the rift. Visions intensify—my village burning, my mother’s voice fading, my humanity slipping. I stagger, blade trembling, but Cassia’s hand grips mine, her fire blazing. “Aelys, you’re more than the Veil—stay with us.” Her words anchor me, my hymn rising, “Veil, guide me.”

Where the Veil was born. --- **The Truth** The graves are alive. Ancient wolves, their pelts dusted with glacial ice, pace beneath the northern lights. They speak in riddles, their voices overlapping. *"The Loom's thread frays. The Mother comes."* The Devourer's mother is no god-she's the Veil's first tear, a wound that became a womb. Her arrival will unmake every stitch the Weaver ever sewed. Eden stitches new wards into his coat. "Can you kill her?"

"Yeah, can you imagine? And she still dares to show up here." "She's too ambitious. Finished an entire collection in three days, made everyone else look bad. No wonder no man can stand her." I held a glass of champagne, lips curved in polite composure, while my trembling fingers exposed what I really felt. I wanted to defend myself, to shout back, but I couldn't even tell who was talking. I was born with a rare condition. No matter how long I'd known someone, their face remained unfamiliar. Before, Vincent would always stand beside me. He'd whisper, "That's Mrs. Parker, and that's the representative from Versenne."

BOUND BY THE VEIN CONTENT WARNING This novel contains material intended for mature audiences only (18+). It includes themes and scenes involving: Graphic violence Blood and feeding Sexual content Obsession and psychological manipulation Power imbalance and coercive dynamics Death and dark supernatural horror elements 🚫Reader discretion is strongly advised. COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

“Something my mother wrote in the margins of her grimoire. She never told me why, but she underlined it three times.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, worn piece of parchment. She unfolded it carefully. “‘The key must not carry life until the veil is sealed. A child born of the key will tear the veil wide open. The child’s first breath will be the last breath of the world.’” The words hung in the air. I felt the blood drain from my face. Nikolai went rigid behind me. Nora folded the parchment again, voice barely above a whisper. “She believed it was possible to seal the veil. But only if the key remains childless until it’s done. If you conceive before then… the spirits wi

Marcus armed them both, but Pera noticed a strange mark on his arm from the earlier fight—a small tracker injection site. As they prepared to fight out, the inner vault door hissed open on its own. Darius stepped through with armed men, smiling triumphantly. “Nice try. But the virgin comes with me now. And you, Vale… get to watch the show.” Guards swarmed Marcus, subduing him with tasers and chains. Darius grabbed Pera by the hair, yanking her close. His hand shoved between her naked thighs, fingers invading her still-dripping pussy. “Time to sample what Vale’s been enjoying.”