Dark Night Golden Dawn Novels & Stories

When I finally got to page 312, the text looked dense and unsettling. < “The Darkhens hold blood oaths above all else. Betrayal is met with relentless fury. In 1887, Alpha Draco Darkhen bound his pack to a covenant with the Coven of the East Wood. The witches, though they eventually delivered the agreed harvest of moonflowers and spell components, were nine days late. Draco, whose pride would not allow delay, led his wolves in a massacre that left no witch alive. Complete annihilation was deemed necessary to preserve the sanctity of the oath.” > My fingers trembled over the paper. Nine days late, yet every witch was slaughtered. I closed my eyes and pictured the horror, the smoke rising bene

My familiars stand in front of me, sitting tall and swishing their tails, letting everyone in the room know they will shift into shadow form and fuck shit up if they have to. “What’s going on out there?” Melinda asks, gritting her teeth and pushing up against the stairs. “You said it was…was something.” “It is something.” I go to the window, wiping away dust, and look out. The Ley line is pulsing again, and I hope each burst of energy doesn’t further fuel the demons. “What are you doing here? Coming into Thorne Hill is suicide.” I whirl around, cocking an eyebrow. “The Grand Coven was just here. Consider yourself lucky I’m the one who ran into you.”

Massive mechanical paddle wheels slammed into the dark water, churning the harbor into a white fury as the twelve dreadnoughts began to move in a perfect, lethal V-formation toward the open, unmapped horizon of the Midnight Sea. ------------------------------ Five hundred miles to the east, inside the silent, white-marble vaults of the Dawn-Gild’s central counting house, the atmosphere was entirely devoid of wind or sun. Three porcelain-masked Arbiters sat at a long, semicircular desk carved from pure ivory. Spread across the polished surface were thousands of parchment ledger sheets, their lines written in an ink that subtly glowed with a pale, financial magic. The heavy, gold-trimmed doors

So come, join us in unlocking the dark secrets of our world. Yours in darkness, The Coven of Nocturnal Youngbloods "— The Youngbloods explore, Daring each other to take part in lore, Behind every crevice and dark corner they look, To uncover the secrets of the school's murder's book." ╰────────── ⋅ ⋅ ✦❘༻༺❘✦⋅ ⋅ ──────────╯ The harsh rays of the morning sun lit up the grounds and the golden hour casted upon me and the coven's invitation dangling in my hand.

“And who were these people that commissioned it?” “They called themselves The Order of the Bright Dawn. Operated out of New York City. Long gone after the crash of 1929. Most of them cannibalized each other during the Great Depression. The leader was a Limo Brightson, made a fortune in linseed oil. Lived well until he spontaneously combusted on the same day Pearl Harbor was attacked. Don’t know why, so don’t ask.” “So, if they’re all dead, who is producing them now?” “No one. It’s a relic from an old time.”

“The stars—they were crying again.” I swallowed hard. “What did you see, baby?” He frowned, as if trying to recall. “A woman with silver eyes. She called me her echo. She said the darkness remembers.” Andres stiffened. “What darkness?” Luciano’s lower lip trembled. “The kind that hides under your name, Papa.” My heart nearly stopped. Andres’s eyes shot to mine—startled, wary, almost pleading for me to deny it. But I couldn’t… That phrase—the darkness under your name, was an ancient Gemini omen. A prophecy once whispered by the coven’s priestesses before they vanished in the Great Purge. It meant the awakening of the Shadow Bond—something that could unravel even the Alpha Supreme’s soul.

Jonas, his grip tightening on his fragment, focused his energy, forming a shield of light that protected them from the insidious whispers. The chamber door, adorned with grotesque symbols depicting scenes of violence and corruption, creaked open with a sickening groan. Inside, bathed in an eerie green glow emanating from a pedestal at the center, lay a single book – a tome bound in black leather, its surface etched with symbols that pulsed with malevolent energy. This was it. This was the source of the darkness. The corrupted celestial fragment, the very foundation of the Obsidian Watch's dark magic, rested within the book. Its tendrils of darkness stretched outwards, corrupting the surround

CHAPTER 8 Running From The Unknown 14 Days Later. Things get really tense after the voices Khloe heard and the confusing information Maria's mother shared over the last few weeks. Almost three weeks and still no sight of Ozais. At least not yet. And same has been with the Horsemen which Azazel raised. Everything might look calm, but trust Fate, if something goes too smooth, their is a really rough edge coming. Night, Eregdrix. The darkness overwhelmed the city of gold as it turned out to be the depths of night. At most corners of the realm, there were bright lights fashioning there rays and at a few, and the rest, darkness fell upon. The Palace wasn't excluded.

Marlene Blackwood was born into wealth, power, and a family that thrives on control. At Blackwood Academy, she is praised as the perfect daughter—beautiful, talented, and untouchable. But behind the luxury and privilege, the Blackwood name hides dark secrets, and Marlene is beginning to realize she’s only a pawn in a dangerous game. Then Ethan La Rosa appears. Cold, mysterious, and fiercely guarded, Ethan doesn’t belong at the academy. He is the kind of man Marlene has been warned to avoid—yet something about him draws her in, like a storm she can’t escape. Ethan’s eyes hold pain, and his silence hides a past filled with blood and betrayal. Ethan didn’t come to Blackwood Academy by

No wonder Maura was finesse; she was probably royalty. We decided to introduce ourselves individually to the Calma household staff. Amid the exchange of pleasantries, we were interrupted by a strong gust of wind that felt heavy in the heart. A figure appeared before us; it was a huge shadow in a shape of a cloaked man with no identifiable facial feature. It whispered in a gravelly, eerie voice, "Darkness has risen. Soon, hell shall rise; the dawn of darkness approaches." Then, it vanished in a cloud of smoke, leaving all of us coughing. Noah was yelling, "Moros, you coward! Face me!"