Cradle Snatcher Novels & Stories

Growing up and believing she is the only child of her parents only for her nanny, who she considered part of her family gave her shocking news on her eighteenth birthday. Alpha Ian: The alpha of Crimson shadows pack, he is a sex addict and a psychopath.. well no one except his sister knows he’s suffering from clinical lycanthropy, he derives his pleasure through Amelia, his property. He is obsessed with her, treating her brutally is what turns him on. To his people, he is a good alpha but to Amelia and those who know what happens between closed doors, he is a beast.

Crystal took off her backpack, she came prepared with a few things that could aid. “Found it.” Crystal mumbled to herself as she took out a small drone with a camera attached, a tablet nearby that controls the device. Lylia and Mylene simply watched in utter silence as Crystal booted up the device, the camera’s view reflected on the tablet’s screen, including the controls on how to make the device function. “Attach the grappling claw to the rope, we’ll climb up.” Crystal instructed while pointing to the backpack which Mylene was carrying. Mylene raised a brow. “Climb up? Wouldn’t that be, I don’t know, a hassle? Since we don’t usually do that—”

She’s scrambling back, her nails—claws now—scraping the floor, leaving faint scratches in the tile. “Tyler?” Her voice is a gasp, her eyes locking on mine, but there’s no time to explain. The creature snarls, its clawed hand shattering the window with a crash, glass raining across the counter. It’s coming for her, and I can’t let that happen.

Elowen walked until she stood at the edge of the dais’s inner circle. Daire stopped one pace back and to her right—close enough that she could feel his warmth, far enough that he didn’t stand between her and the stone. She took another breath as the next contraction whispered on its way, not yet peaking. “Crowe,” she said. “Stop pretending this is legal.” Murmurs rose from the ridge; wolves pressed closer to hear, drawn as much by the old magic as by the spectacle. Crowe smiled thinly. “It is unfortunate,” he said, “that you continue to view necessary procedures as personal affronts. This device—” he tapped the Cradle’s casing lightly “—is designed to ensure that heirs are placed in the safe

"There is one more thing. The necklace. It wasn't just a gift. It was a prototype for a jewelry line your mother designed for you. There is a serial number micro-engraved on the clasp. That’s how we knew for sure." Crystal touched the worn metal. This cheap-looking thing had been her only link to her identity. "We’re going to find him, Crystal," Adrian promised. "The man who stole twenty-three years of our lives and we’re going to make him wish he’d never been born." Outside the restaurant, a black car sat idling. Inside, a person watched the entrance through high-powered binoculars. As the Laurents emerged with Crystal shielded between them, the figure picked up a burner phone.

Adrian gazed at the small cauldron in his hand, his satisfaction evident. Despite taking a bit longer, the peculiar little cauldron known as the “Spectral Snare” had proven to be remarkable. Once enveloped by the Spectral Snare, Autumn could not resist. In just ten minutes, her soul was completely crushed and imprisoned within the cauldron. Adrian likened it to a millstone, watching as the ghost's soul was slowly crushed within the Spectral Snare's aura until finally being confined within it.

“I’ll take what’s mine.” Elara lunged. The ghost raised both hands, power crackling, crimson light lashing out like whips. Elara twisted, hybrid reflexes saving her, claws slashing through the light, dispersing it into sparks. She reached the cradle, ripped the black cloth away. Inside: no child. Only a small obsidian mirror, reflecting not her face, but a vision: the cradle in their room, empty, while a cloaked figure slipped through the window carrying a bundle.

The storm collapses, the cave crumbling. The Hunter reforms beside me, gasping. "What did you *do*?" The ghostwolves wail as the Cradle dies, its light fading. The alpha snarls. *"You've killed our purpose!"* "No," I say, lifting the chord. It vibrates with the storm's final breath. "I've *stolen* it." The Weaver's thread still clings to my wrist, now glowing with the Cradle's resonance. The ghostwolves recoil. *"Madness. You'll draw her here!"*

The quartz pillars surrounding the Board’s platform began to hum—a low, subsonic groan of metal meeting stone. ​"One step closer, Nora," Victoria warned, her thumb hovering over the detonator, "and I trigger the thermal charges. The 'Seed' dies, the mountain collapses, and the Sterling legacy ends in a pile of ash. I am perfectly comfortable with a total loss if I can't have the asset." ​"You're a sociopath," Liam spat, his spear leveled at her throat. ​"I'm a fiduciary," she corrected. ​I looked at the Cradle. It was a masterpiece of terrifying engineering—a silver ribcage designed to house a human soul. I felt Rowan’s hand tighten in mine. His black eyes were fixed on the silver pod, and I