Duke Of Shadows Novels & Stories

Take it down now! However, he did not wait for an answer. I calmly stepped out from the shadows of the room and announced, "I did."

But not the reflection from before. This version was armored in shadow—literal plates sculpted from the realm itself clinging to his shoulders, chest, arms. His hair bled into darkness. His eyes were entirely black. And where Erevan’s shadows obeyed him with loyalty, these shadows coiled around the duplicate like chains—tight, choking, binding. A corrupted version of him. A version he could become. The Shadow Sovereign, the realm whispered. His worst fate. His darkest path. The monster the Council once predicted he would inevitably turn into.

The morning light filtered weakly through the curtains, casting fractured patterns on the floor — much like my thoughts, splintered and jagged. I sat at the small kitchen table, clutching my cup of cold coffee, staring at the leather-bound book *Reflections of the Forgotten* open before me. The stories inside weren’t just tales — they were warnings, lessons written in sorrow and hope. Women who had lived as shadows, trapped in lives borrowed from others, fighting to reclaim their own reflections.

Sylvia shivered. The chill of the autumn night seeped into her bones with each passing second. Alone in the bathroom, she dyed her hair, rubbing the thick viscous liquid along her scalp to ensure no trace of her original hair color showed. Her unusual eye color was already suspicious for people in the know, which included the Duke of House Winston. Hadn’t Livia already warned her of the estate’s tight security? As a previous Duchess, Sylvia was keenly aware of the ducal house’s elite group. Only a few have ever known of their existence—a group of elites among elites—the Shadows.

“Beyond the brief, I mean.” Aurora sifted through the mission dossier in her mind, her thoughts flickering to Vincent’s cryptic warnings about Nightshade’s unrest. “Only what Lucas shared,” she answered, her voice steady despite the unease coiling in her chest. “Founded by Fenrir Nightshade after a feud with his twin, Faber, over a fated mate. Known for their strength and connection to the land. Why?” Marcus’s wolf slowed slightly, his gaze fixed on her. “This place feels… wrong. Like it’s hiding something. I thought you might’ve sensed it too.”

Alex opened the book Damian had given him in his library. It looked very old and dusty. Alex felt something strange about the book, as if it was calling him to read it. On the first page of the book was written in big letters: "Traces of what once was... Clan Echelon: Past, Duty and Destruction".

"Duke Everdale" Bloodshot irises looked up from the desk where papers were jumbled and arranged haphazardly. The Duke was in his late forties and had handsome features thus when the butler saw him as such he could not help but sigh and feel sorrow. Their mansion was once an impenetrable castle where not even a bird could enter without the permission of the Duke and two young masters but now it was all a shell made up of nothing but empty hallways.

The general had been the cause of the distracting footsteps, but now the shadow he saw approaching was surely not Nax's. The silhouette on the wall came closer and retrieved a sword. That was when the Duke of Anfield knew he was supposed to run. At that, he lifted a spear in one hand and a sword in the other and turned around, breaking into a fast-paced run from who the devil the shadow turned out to be.

For the author is revealed in the next paragraph. "The Dusk bringer, Prince of Darkness, The Shadowlord, I, Xirrian Adonis Prime, the 8th Night Wolf, the Dark Monarch, will account for my days until I choose to dissolve into the void. Perhaps for others, if others come and I do not plunge the world into the endless and I, myself remain where time is still, around echoes and shadows, around hollows like me. It is only here, in the endless that I find contentment. In a space where the unwanted are hidden. Home."

“Sixty million going twice! Sixty million going-” “Two hundred million creds!” Roseanne shuts her eyes, sobbing. Her heart is in agony, the anguish of losing her dignity and innocence is tormenting her. Pyodor gasps as a man steps forward. Stefan is outraged and is about to draw his sword when the man takes off his hat. The Duke’s eyes meet Stefan’s dark ones and the latter is shocked. Scarlet. The Duke has scarlet eyes! “L-Lycan!” he gasps and kneels in front of him. The Duke ignores him and glares at the men in the room.