Claude X Byleth Novels & Stories

Alpha Xaden, and a last person whom nobody knows. I knew my husband wields so much power. But I didn't know the extent. So who is Blake? I've never heard of him. As if sensing I had questions that I was holding back from asking, Elia said. " He's the Alpha of Crimson Claws. Alpha Xaden's cousin." Stunned, I blinked multiple times. I thought I now knew everything about Xaden. Apparently, that wasn't the case.

His eyes transitioned to man with the translucent blade, X. X was no taller than 5 and half feet. His long gray hair was thick but flowing like water, even though it had been attempted to be subdued in a pony tail. Almond shaped grey eyes that were a rich color, but gave warning of a terrible storm was brewing ahead. He was rather fair complected, but had a hue of yellow. Even though X was dressed in a few layers it did nothing to hide his slender but muscular build.

The static-claws tore through his charcoal-grey fur, pixelating his flesh, but he didn't let go. "He's... my... brother!" Caleb roared, his voice a distorted, digital rasp. The sound of Caleb’s pain was the final Input the system needed. Xander’s eyes snapped shut, and then they opened—not black, not blue, but a brilliant, searing Silver-Gold.

A deep grunt escaped my throat at the thought that she was also going to find out that I was her mate and would also perceive my scent. shit! I hissed and clenched my fist, bracing myself to reject her immediately; I wasn't worried about the pain because I was also planning to kill her. My name is Xander, the heir to the Red Moon Pack. Being the son of Alpha Xavier, I had to be more cruel than him, giving no space for romantic feelings, which do nothing other than make someone weak and act stupidly. Lena's POV.

"Hmm...I think yoU're JuSt scarrrEd to embRrrace what you arrrrrre...grrrr.." Claude thought the question over, wondering what he meant but was interrupted by the beast speaking again. "You are...rr..a promising individual..heheheh..maYbE. IF yOu StOp BeInG SuCH A ScArEd liTtLe..shIT, aLl In tImE. That shit Cern got a pretty strong pupil as well but I think if you use my blessings well you will become incredibly strrrrrrongg. bUt! OnLy iF you USe thEm.....ONLY!"

Are you still the same person who chose to abandon your son for the sake of your family? ... Meanwhile, at the Kane family's manor in the north. "Caleb!" Ywain had just entered the Kane family's study and looked anxiously for Caleb, who was sitting on an antique chair. He immediately clenched his fist and pleaded. "Caleb, the survival of the Xanthos family is in your hands. Please have mercy on us, Caleb. Please save us!" Caleb had a thread-bound book in his hand. He noticed Ywain's terrified expression, shook his head, and laughed. "What are you talking about, Ywain? Are you confused?

Now I know why. Blake is not what I expected of a healer. He is nothing like the fusty old men who worked for the High Priest and did little to ease my mother’s suffering. I watch as he unbuttons the cuffs of his sleeves, then rolls them up—revealing corded forearms, and a nasty scar just beneath his elbow. “What’s wrong with him?” I ask, thinking back to that horrible book of experiments I found in my chambers. “I thought wolves healed quickly.” Candles flicker in the infirmary, and the light dances across Blake’s chiseled features. “Come on, you know the answer to that, little rabbit.”

His aura was wrong, calculated, cold. Izora instinctively stepped back, her hand brushing the wall behind her for something solid. She’d seen him before. Not often. Always with Kaiser. Always silent. “Who are you?” she asked. His lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “If you must know,” he said, voice calm but condescending, “which is none of your concern… I’m Claude. Though some prefer to call me the Black Hole.” Izora’s chest tightened. She’d heard of that name. A whisper in the criminal underworld. An assassin known for one thing: leaving his victims with a hollowed chest where their heart used to be. She had thought it was a myth. But standing in front of her was the myth

An old man on the vintage chair with a newspaper in hand replied. A woman wearing a huge smile on her face, probably older than Westley stood up. “Audene, I thought you’re busy.” The thick southern accent in her tongue was palpable. She bounced her eyes from me, then back to Westley. “Hello, I’m Clyve.” I held out my hand. “You must be new here, darlin’. I’m Xena.” She shook my hand, then looked at Westley who looked at her with disinterest. It was her way of telling her to shut up because I was not her type.

“I don’t have the answer.” “Well, Blake might.” I turn, watching through the last bits of unsteamed glass in the mirror over the vanity. He braces his hands on the counter and bows his head, refusing to meet my eyes. “Do you know what he can do? He can see everything. The future. Into people’s minds. He can look past the planes of our existence into what he calls the tapestry, where all of us, every menial, insignificant soul carries a thread that creates a… masterpiece. He can see it.” Kaleb raises his head just enough to look at me, but his expression is dark, exhausted, like whatever light was within him has officially blown out. “He can manipulate it, Kaleb. That’s why–”