Candor Faction Novels & Stories

I watched his face through every piece of it, watched the particular stillness that comes over someone who is hearing something confirm a fear they've been quietly carrying far longer than anyone around them realized. When I got to the crest — black wolf, fangs bared, no other markings — something in him went very, very quiet. "Say that again," he said. His voice had changed. Lower. Careful, the way you handle something you're afraid might shatter if you move too fast. "A black wolf," I said. "Fangs bared. Nothing else on it. Reid traced it to a faction called Blood Fang, supposedly purged three generations back." Conrad closed his eyes. For a long moment he didn't speak at all, and I watche

“What can you tell us about the others? The ones who hide in the shadows? The witches? The vampires?” Their mouths fell open and their hearts skipped a beat. Working with the others was an abomination. The three factions — werewolves, witches and vampires — have been at war for years and the so-called Council did nothing to unite us… working with them sounds pretty crazy, but at the moment that’s the only way out. My plans were always ridiculous, but that was my winning tactic. Jace rose to his feet, his eyes narrowed, and he began his annoying speech. He has a habit of talking gibberish instead of telling them what they needed to hear. He began by narrating how the war between the factions

By the end of two hours she understood the Faction's full shape: not a handful of discontents but a structured political bloc with court representation, an external communications network, and a forty-year history of strategic opposition to the inter-species treaty alliance. "They are led by whom?" she asked, when they had moved through the operational history. Rafael looked at her for a moment. "The visible leadership is a court faction headed by three senior members whose names I have," he said. "One of them is Lord Cassius." She did not visibly react, though something in her chest went very still. Cassius, who had challenged her in the first audience with the documentation argument. Cassi

"I could stop if you like." "N-no, don't stop. The Consensus is the group mind of everyone. Oh that's good... It's what k-keeps us h-honest." "In what way?" "Well it tends to keep the r-real world c-consistent. Stops us s-stealing stuff... that kind of th-th-thing, oh god I'm going to..." Her back arched and he felt her vaginal muscles clamp down on him. She thrashed uncontrollably against her bonds for a minute or so, and then lay still.

She was always caught between hope and anxiety. Ray glanced at the calendar. Today was Cassandra—the policewoman's—evolution day. He had just eliminated Leroy's faction, and Chester had fled with his followers to Susan. So, in Senna City, there was no large ability-user faction left. Minor groups didn't even pique Ray's interest. 'So, the next opponent is Susan's faction? Hmm… I'll need to scout first. 'This faction is strange… over a thousand ability users? Unbelievable. What kind of ability does Susan have to produce so many ability users?'

“I haven’t been part of the council for that long either so I can’t help much. But I know for fact that they won’t challenge you openly or directly.” “They won’t dare,” I said. He chuckled softly. “That’s the spirit.” Cael began explaining the factions’ recent alliances, who leaned toward whom, which elder had been stirring dissent. And the growing unrest among the northern factions, something about trade routes and patrol disputes… I listened. Absorbed. Then, without thinking, I laughed lightly and said, “So the old wolves are circling like Vaelthorn before a winter cull.” The word slipped from my tongue effortlessly.

His presence wasn’t loud, yet no one dared speak while he stood. Dressed in rich royal blue, every inch of him screamed regality, right down to his shining leather shoes. He stood before his pact—his chosen allies—not a pack. Enigmas could not hold other Enigmas in a traditional pack. Instead, they formed Pacts: elite alliances of power forged through synchronized pheromones. A ritual of dominance and mutual respect, where two high-ranking Enigmas bind their aura to others, marking them with a bond deeper than blood.

She then volunteered to share all of her knowledge about the rig with us. The state of affairs in this place is much worse than I had anticipated. Years ago, when I was just starting out as a mercenary, I went here for another task, but a lot has changed since then. The Angels' control over the South has loosened, and in 2028, it appears that a group of Omegas fled the Rig.

It suited her. But I couldn't afford to linger. The crowd around us was growing restless, their whispers filling the air. I could feel their curiosity, their hope, their fear. The weight of my duty pressed down on me like a crushing burden. I swallowed hard, the words forming like broken glass in my throat. "Ilana Woods," I began, my voice low and steady, "I, Lysander Nightshade, hereby reject you as my destined mate." Her eyes widened in shock, her lips parting in a silent gasp. "What?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

The gentleman's eyes narrowed at him then landed on me. "Yes, this is the vampire realm. I am Lucian Sokolov or better known as the Falcon. This village consists of what you would refer to as rogues. They are without leadership and follow no one's rule here," he growled low. I swallowed nervously and Galen grunted. "Very well sir, sorry to have intruded. We will leave here immediately. Thank you for taking your time explaining that to us," Galen replied kindly and started to turn. Lucian's hand fell onto his shoulder turning him back around.