Captain Vane Novels & Stories

She gulped as she noticed the captain’s face turning red. “Oh God…” Venus muttered, burying her face in her hands. The captain cleared her throat and finally introduced herself. “I’m Blanche. Blanche Lucille Emerson,” she said, her voice gentle but confident. "Blanche..." Venus utters. "I'm---" "Dianara Venus Hughes, I know." Blanche cut her off and smiled as she took another sip of her drink. "Who wouldn't know the school president?"

he turned his gentle smile on me with an exuberant wave, "hi, I'm Sylvain. Tania is my mate." "Ever the diplomat, Alpha Sylvain," Lilith quipped, shooting him a bright smile. "Nice to see you, too, Lilith," he called over his shoulder but his warm smile never wavered. Victor's gaze grew distant when he spoke, head shaking slowly with scrunched eyebrows, "If she's away and they get to her and I'm not there to protect her. If I can't get to her and something happens..." With every word uttered, his hand tightened around mine, "No. No, she stays."

that controlled every light, every sound, and every door. "Captain Vane, we’re being picked off!" a voice screamed over the comms. "They’re everywhere! We can't see them! We’re—" The comms went dead. Vane, now alone in the darkness of the second floor, felt a cold, sharp dread beginning to settle in his gut. He had underestimated them. Alistair had been right. "Vane," a voice whispered from a nearby speaker, a voice that was low, resonant, and unmistakably Baron Vance’s.

They simply stood there, a wall of iron and silence. The line parted. A man stepped forward. He didn't wear a mask or a suit of armor. He wore a simple, charcoal gray uniform that looked like it belonged in a history book. His hair was silver, cropped close to his head, and his eyes were a flat, watery blue. He looked like an administrator, a man who dealt in ledgers and logistics rather than blood and war. Kael of the First Pack, the man said. His voice was calm, almost bored. I am Director Vane. You have caused a significant delay in our harvest schedule.

In the video, Mara clung to Callum's arm as they walked the aisle together, standing before the officiant and exchanging vows as if they were the true couple. Her caption was simple. 'Close enough. I married you after all.' I did not reply to Callum. Instead, I handed the old phone to Evan. "This should be thrown away, too. Will you help me get rid of it?" That phone would be returned to the fake me. As the plane soared upward, Evan reached for my hand and nodded toward the window. Outside, the sun climbed above the clouds, bathing my face in a wash of warm orange light. He smiled at me. "Congratulations, Ms. Wren. You are free now. This is where your new life begins."

“No more drills tomorrow.” Silence follows. One captain blinks. “Alpha?” “You heard me.” “But we’re almost ready….” “No.” Tyson’s voice leaves no room for debate. “We’re fighting a battle, not running ourselves into the ground.” His gaze sweeps across the room. “I need warriors who can think. I need witches who can cast. I need commanders who can make decisions. Not corpses who collapse before we reach the battlefield.” That settles it. The following day becomes the quietest day MoonHaven has seen in weeks.

I said, “I’m used to doing regular exercise back home.” “Part of life there,” Monica said, echoing my own words. I lifted my glass of water in a mocking salute. “Exactly.” Her eyes narrowed. “Vane is an unusual name.” I set my glass back down on my tray. “It’s short for Vanessa.” She assessed me for a moment. “You don’t look like a Vanessa at all.” “No.” I let the single word hang in the air between us. Outside, a crow’s caw floated down from a pine near the window. Monica’s shoulders loosened imperceptibly.

He looked at me first, in no hurry to step in and showing no hostility toward Ethan, and only asked, "Do you want me to stay, or should I call security?" It was a short question, but something in my chest eased. He didn't decide for me. He gave me a choice. I said, "Stay." He nodded and moved to stand half a step to my side. Not far, not close. Ethan looked at him. "Who are you?" "Noah Hayes." His tone was level. "Captain of the air medical rescue team. In charge of Dr. Reed's project handover and on-site safety today." Ethan let out a cold laugh. "On-site safety?"

He looked down at the ruined Lord, assessing the pathetic, broken man who had allowed his arrogant son to threaten the literal ruler of the entire kingdom. When the Captain finally spoke, his voice was not a shout. It was a cold, quiet rumble that carried the absolute, devastating weight of a mountain collapsing. "You have spent your entire miserable life ruling over this tiny, insignificant patch of dirt, Lord Vance," the Captain said slowly, his scarred face remaining entirely expressionless. "You believed your gold made you a god. You believed you were the apex predator of this market." The Captain took one slow, deliberate step forward, his iron boot crunching loudly against the glass, f

Her face was calm, her eyes sharp as she looked across the frozen river. Across the ice, ten southern warriors stood waiting. They wore dark red cloaks over heavy iron chainmail. Their leader was an older man with grey hair, a scar across his chin, and cold dark eyes. He wore a long silver mantle over his shoulders—Lord Vane himself. Lord Vane took three steps out onto the thick river ice, holding his hands open to show he carried no sword in his grip. "Commander Edal!" Vane called out, his deep voice ringing across the frozen river. "It has been a hard winter for all of us!"