Duke Of Shadows Novels & Stories

Lucky there’s nothing deep needing stitches. In my grieving and broken state, I begin to feel faint. I let myself go and pass out. Opening my eyes I feel myself transported into another realm. Standing in front of me is my grandmother’s house which stands in front of a looming property which I dare not go near. The “LeFleur” mansion. A place said to belong to my ancestors from centuries ago. A place that continues to haunt my dreams since a child. Something about this place calls to my soul, it pulls me and begs me to return. The house stands in the Normandy countryside. She feels it in the wind and air, she feels it in the depths of the earth, it’s as if a spirit like a piece of me is locke

‘H-h-her b-belly’ her voice, though in a low whisper, echoed lightly through the already deserted walls of the manor, which was now lighted by the eerie shadows the blood moon that had appeared in the sky, towering over the manor cast in the house. As if waiting to witness the birth of the monster. Somehow, words had made rounds in the manor amongst every servant and soldier about the mysterious birth, and on the same night, the blood moon appeared after so many years. It didn’t help that The Duke was also found dead not long after dinner in the store room, hanging from the rafters with his eyes popping out of his tiny head. Everyone had silently disappeared. Each returned to his own home in

But the heir’s stare was steady, unyielding. “My mother was of the Shadowblood line,” he said at last. “I inherited… this.” He gestured vaguely to the darkness curling at his boots. “I didn’t know what it meant until the Creed found me.” “And now?” she asked. “Now I know they’ll never stop coming.” A knock at the door broke the moment. One of the scouts stepped in, snow melting from his cloak. “My lady. You need to hear this.” The heir straightened. “Speak.”

I repeated once again, as I hope I'm hearing things i don't bear to hear be the actual answer to my question but my hope crash as she slowly nodded at my words. I suddenly drop the knife I was holding, causing for it to crash to something or. I softly look down, only to see the maid holding the knife that I drop directed at her bloody stomach. She layed there, staring at me before her figure turned into ashes. I slowly freaked out but when I suddenly realize something, I began to calm down. Duke Yan Leocubus... Duke of Yuan Empire, father of the villainess and last... The one and only person who will kill the villainess the moment he fell in love in the female lead....

Why was there this feeling I cannot explain when I look at him? In that instant, he flashed his gaze at me and I fell entirely succumbed to whatever my mind swallowed me in. My head ached for a moment trying to think about him. ‘Let it go, Becky.’ The soft voice of my shadow calmed me. Devereux wasn't important right now. My brother was. And I had to find him. After they disappeared into the swarm of people, Leighton got in the car. “You seem quite tense.” As much as I wanted to deny that, I couldn't help but inquire about Archer, “Who is he, Marc?"

But that was the plan, right? I let go of my hair and lowered my head. My silent cries turned to small sobs until all I could hear was my voice crying in the whole room. I barely receive love and affections, and now that I have finally received it, here I am preparing to throw it away from me for its own safety. Duke is a primordial lycan. He might be strong and powerful, but they can outnumber him and kill him. I'm afraid that even his own pack won't be able to help him out if that happens.

“The Council wants the Eucharist bloodline under lock and key.” “No one takes her,” Duke growled, stepping beside me to cast a long, protective shadow. “Unless you want to step over my corpse, Morrigan. She belongs to the Shadow Kingdom now, wolfless or not.” “Duke, don't be tedious,” Morrigan said, her eyes glowing a faint, sickly yellow. “Don't let a human girl cause a war between our houses.” I looked from Ivy, who viewed me as dirt, to Morrigan, who viewed me as an object, before wiping my face with the back of my hand until only the fire remained.

His fingers brush my jaw, hesitant, like I might disappear if he touches too hard. Then the storm shifts. Low footfalls. Mud squelching. A slow clap. Jake’s eyes snap open. He turns. And Duke steps from the shadows of a half-collapsed neighboring tent — casual, elegant, smug, wearing the aftermath of war like a tailored suit. His long coat is drenched and torn, blood splattered across one sleeve, hair slicked back by the rain. He looks annoyingly beautiful. Deceptively calm. But his eyes— Cold. Silver.

Somewhere in the depths of the Underworld, a god awaited his bride—and Penelope, terrified and powerless, was being pushed toward him like a lamb to the slaughter. The Underworld pulsed with a life of its own. It was a place where shadows danced along the cavernous walls, and the faint hum of restless souls filled the air like a mournful symphony. The grand halls of Hades' mansion, carved from obsidian and veined with faint streaks of glowing red, emanated an eerie beauty. The torches lining the walls burned with blue flames, casting ghostly light across the smooth floors, which seemed to absorb sound and reflect only silence.