Romans & histoires Dark Legacies

// A/N: *mes pattes* is cajun slang for " my paws, or feet" BIG ANNOUNCMENT! Legacy is now available on multiple platforms, I will leave details on my Facebook page @facebook.com/danger.beanz.3 Happy Reading <3

Golden was shocked, but he ignored it for the moment because, at that moment, the Frost Wolf closed its eyes eternally. Golden also started to cry. He would never forget that Frost Wolf nor the time he lived with it. [System detected that the user received a Legacy.] [The Legacy doesn't match the user physique. Accepting the Legacy will be detrimental to the user.] [Remodeling the Legacy to match the user's physique.] [Legacy remodeled, the user will obtain all its benefits and enhancements without any side-effect.] Since that light shot into Golden's forehead, the system started with those notifications, but until the system started to speak about the contents of the Legacy, Golden didn't p

Lucas, one of the five elders suggested that they should be the ones to rule the whole Lycanthrope clan, having so much power they could rule the world, the other four refused saying the purpose of them attaining dark magic wasn't to change the system in way things had been and gave him a stern warning that if he proceeded with his plans he would be stopped by all four of them. Lucas tricked the four into believing he had dropped his foolish intent while in actual reality he studied more dark matter, trying to possess more,making himself stronger and more powerful than the four combined. At the expense of his dreams, he perished. What remained of him was pure dark matter spreading like a pan

Lucky me. Dad stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Let us begin this meeting by taking a moment to remember the life of our comrade, Caleb Manser." The morning light filtered in through the curtains, tinting the room in the tawny grey of the cloth. As everyone else bowed their heads in respect, I surveyed the gathering. In this little living room, on a shabby mountaintop cabin, were the precious few people in the country who had mastered the necromantic arts. My father and brother were the last two living with enough power to reanimate the dead. Avery and Thea Manser had the Sight, to see truths and that of the present and future. Lyssa Amerson carried her family's ability to speak with th

She was the key to my failure to destroy the entire bloodline I was overcome and overwhelmed by the memories of my past battles with Lena’s ancestors. I remembered their power and how they posed a significant threat to my dark reign. The fact that Lena not only survived but was now approaching him with the same light magic her family wielded infuriated me just like I said earlier Lena’s power was different

Only the stillness of an open grave. Ellie’s signet ring didn't just glow; it shrieked. A jagged, pulsing crimson light radiated from the stone, casting long, distorted shadows across the grey dust. She reached out with her inner sight, trying to find the golden threads of the Alliance, but what she found made her stumble. The threads weren't just frayed; they were being knotted into intricate, suffocating patterns—the **Legion of Bone** was literally weaving the life force of the sleeping wolves into a shroud.

The oppressive darkness of the room felt like a living entity, wrapping itself around Daryl, Leo, and Aria as they sat huddled together. The weight of their captivity pressed heavily on their shoulders. Daryl’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more chaotic than the last. He couldn’t shake the recent revelations about his family’s history—the legacy of betrayal and blood that twisted through their veins like a venomous snake. Vercus's malevolence wasn’t just a personal vendetta; it was a curse passed down through generations, a darkness that sought to obliterate everything in its path.

Just reached over, brushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “They took it,” he said finally. Quiet. Devastated. Savannah closed her eyes. “Weren’t we supposed to hold truth in our hands?” Outside, the world blurred into smears of gold and black. Streetlamps became ghosts on the windshield. Her voice trembled now, stripped bare: “Legacy… legacy isn’t serum or names. It’s memory. That’s all we ever had.” Lightning clawed the skyline, revealing scars and scaffolds. Thunder stitched the world together for one aching breath.

"I will raise him to never be a victim of people like your father. He will have everything I didn't have. He will have power." "He’ll have a father who bought his mother like a piece of meat," Iza spat. "He’ll have a father who spent twenty years nursing a grudge against a man who didn't even know he’d caused a tragedy. You’re not building a legacy, Dark. You’re building a monument to your own pain." Dark’s eyes flashed with a sudden, raw vulnerability—the kind of look that would have broken Iza’s heart a week ago. But today, she only saw a target.

How old was he? "I'm listening," I prompted, folding my legs under me on the bed. He sighed, leaned back, and crossed one leg over the other like someone who had decided he might as well tell it all. "It's about chaos," he said quietly. "Something that hasn't happened in over a century. A battle—between light and darkness, between creation and decay. And this time, darkness will not come from the shadows." I frowned. "That's… vague."