Deadly Deceptions Novels & Stories

The people who tried to expose what was happening lost careers for speaking up. No one understood how devastating things were until it was too late. Even when hellhounds began killing us, we didn't know they were man-made and a product of science created to save money. With the Shadow Warriors help, we managed to survive the first wave of hellhounds. Now the formaldehyde has attacked the older dead. They're more intelligent and scarier all around, their misshapen bodies slightly more human. Who knows what will happen when the ancient dead awaken?

On the day of our wedding, my fiance's best friend, Penny Lynd, showed me a video, smiling as she said, "Hey, Lydia. I've already educated Aron for you. He's now a real stud, so enjoy!" I felt my breath leaving my lungs as they made love in the video, while Aron Quaker laughed, clapping her shoulder. "Where did you get that AI video? I only took your clothes off that one time." While he was laughing without a care, I felt like I'd just fallen into an abyss. Seeing me lose my cool, Penny laughed out loud too. "There! I knew it would upset Lydia! She's so dumb that she can't even tell that it's an AI video—and a bet's a bet! Starting today, we will be married for three days." It was only t

He shook his head slowly. “You misunderstand, Your Majesty. Your interpretation is… limited by what you know. This is not about Daven and Daisy’s petty squabbles for territory or power, though they are unwitting pawns in a much grander, far more terrifying game. Saraphina did not speak of rogue packs or political alliances. She spoke of a dark army in the truest, most horrifying sense of the word. The Death Goddess’s army.” My breath caught in my throat. My carefully constructed composure fractured. The name of the Death Goddess, that malevolent entity that had already poisoned Layla’s spirit, sent a chill through me far colder than the Northern wind.

The Ghost. My jaw clenched, a low, savage pulse of possession throbbing deep in my gut. For a year, I had believed I was holding a delicate, bruised songbird in a velvet cage. I had spent countless nights lying awake beside her, holding my breath, terrified that my darkness, my brutal corporate lifestyle, would shatter her. And all the while, she had been a phantom. A lethal, beautiful monster hiding behind soft smiles and trembling hands. The heavy steel security door at the end of the bunker corridor let out a sharp, pneumatic hiss as the multi-bolt deadbolts unlocked.

I’d made my share of dumb decisions but this one took the fucking trophy. Lying was always a gamble, but lying to Dominic Sokolov? That wasn’t a gamble. That was sticking a gun between your teeth and pulling the trigger just to see if the chamber was empty. It was suicidal. Men like him didn’t forgive mistakes; let alone deception. They slit throats for being looked at wrong, burned men alive for breathing too loud. And here I was, feeding him the clumsiest, most see-through lie in the history of lies.

The combination of the two was an unprecedented, truly formidable force. Their first target was not the global cartel itself, but its foundation. Amara, with a chilling coldness, orchestrated a campaign of disinformation, planting rumors that the cartel's leaders were corrupt, that their businesses were fronts for money laundering, that their power was built on a foundation of lies and deceit. The campaign, a masterpiece of strategic deception, was a direct, silent, and utterly devastating challenge to the cartel's power.

Every revelation that peeled back layers of deception and rot. My jaw clenched until my teeth ached. I could still hear it—the queen’s voice slipping through Sage’s mind, dripping with pride as she admitted to murder, manipulation, decay. The deaths at the borders. The vampires unleashed like weapons. The magical beast sent to slaughter during the hunt. Every drop of blood spilled in the name of power. The truth weighed on the room.

He knew what was going on. "What's happening?" I asked him, my voice shaking with fear. Derek's face was grim. "It's Kaye," he said. "She's been spreading rumors about you, telling people that you're a liar and a fake. She's trying to ruin your reputation." I felt a wave of shock and horror wash over me. Kaye was behind this? She was trying to destroy me? As I looked around the room, I saw that the chaos was starting to die down. The eggs had stopped flying, and the shouting had begun to subside.

Hold it out. “This is the kill switch. Plug it into any Apex terminal with admin access. It triggers a cascading wipe, every merger document, every backdated valuation, every email chain. The deal dies. Horizon wins. And Blackwood goes down for fraud, embezzlement, and, thanks to tonight, possible accessory to murder.” I don’t move to take it. “Why tell me?”

I’m realizing the full horror of what I’ve created while saving my sons. Negotiable death that can be weaponized by anyone, turning ending into negotiable murder available to all. “We need to restrict knowledge of the exploit,” I say urgently. “Keep it secret so only Keepers can weaponize death.” “Too late,” Alistair’s voice says grimly. “The Shepherds learned it while fighting you. They’re already spreading the knowledge as revenge for losing werewolf death control. Within hours, beings across realities will know how to weaponize negotiable death.”