Elara Quinn Novels & Stories

Elara answers automatically, drops her bag by the door, and moves through rooms she’s memorized but never claimed. She goes to the guest room. Always the guest room. The bedspread is perfectly smoothed. The curtains were drawn just enough to suggest consideration, not care. Elara sits on the edge of the bed and finally looks at her phone. The screen floods. Messages from strangers. Journalists. A producer asking about follow-ups..A woman who says she knew Stephanie Jacobs once—knew her well—and cries in three separate voice notes. Elara scrolls past them all. She opens her contacts.

she chirped, her full lips parting in a dazzling smile as her rich brown eyes fixed on Elara. "Elara," Alpha Riven said smoothly, "meet your mother. Selena. Selena, meet the lovely, charming, and totally not crazy former Luna, Elara" Elara debated punching him in the face, hard, but the older lady, Selena, strode toward Elara. Each step was assured and steady, graceful, and … grounded. It wasn't guarded and restrained like hers. Her eyes spoke of strength. She was someone who didn’t need weapons but could cause deep, soul crushing pain to her enemies if she wanted.

A circle with three intersecting lines. "The Iron Knot," I said. I stepped forward. I pulled a small knife from my boot. "What are you doing?" Kael asked. He stepped closer protectively. "The door requires a toll," I said. "Blood for entry." I sliced my palm. I pressed my bleeding hand against the cold iron. "I am Elara Vance," I announced. "Daughter of Mary. I call upon the debt of the Matriarch. Open." The blood sizzled on the metal. It turned into red steam.

“I just need a minute…” “As you can see, I am busy,” she interrupted, straightening her chair. Her eyes were sharp and wary. Just then, the door burst open, and a blond walked in, accompanied by a little girl. My attention snagged on the child first, assuming that she was the lady's, but as the child turned toward me, my heart stopped. “Mummy!” she yelped and ran toward Elara. She had dark eyes, the same sharp curve of the jaw, a faint dimple in the left cheek. Not even the hair down her back could hide the glaringly undeniable truth. She was mine..

"Elara? You... you woke up?" "Sarah, what are you doing here?" I ran toward her, but she stepped back, her face a mask of suspicion. "I'm the 'Lead Developer' of the Rebellion, Elara," she said, her voice hard and full of grit. "And you... you’re the one who’s been powering the Vance Global Grid for thirty years. Every time you 'leveled up' in the simulation, a city block in the 'True Real' got its power cut so they could feed your server."

“Good. I was getting tired of haunting the walls.” A hysterical laugh nearly climbed my throat and died there. “You say that like this is manageable,” I said. My voice sounded too thin for the scale of what was happening. “Who are you really?” Her mouth twisted, not quite a smile. “I am Elara. Your mother’s mother. The guardian’s last chosen heir—and the one who refused to become her next acceptable loss.”

“Ms. Harrington will read a prepared statement, and after that, she’ll take only a few questions, so please keep them brief.” He glanced at Elara, then stepped aside. The room fell quiet as Elara took the microphone. Atlas moved to the wall on her right, exactly where she could see him without turning her head. “Good morning.” Her voice came out steadier than she expected. “I’m going to answer the question most of you came here to ask, so I’ll answer it first. Yes, I was Lucia Hale.” Instead of words or gasps, flashes of cameras filled the room. “Lucia Hale was the name I lived under before I discovered who I was.” Elara’s eyes moved from one end of the room to another.

She glanced around the barren peak, wondering, ‘Was this where he lived? “How did you make fire?” Elara asked. “All the way up here?” Ilias stared at her. “Flint and steel, not the kind you are thinking of.” “What am I thinking of?” Elara asked. The young man glanced at Kael, clearly reluctant to reply. “You can trust my husband,” Elara said. Ilias said nothing at first. But soon he asked, “Who are you exactly?” “Elara,” she said. “Elara Ashbourne. My mother is Evelyn, and her lineage record suggests she came from the House of Solara here in Eldermere.”

He honored the tragic boundary I had set, but his knuckles turned white against the wood. “Ah, the Director has finally graced us with her presence,” a smooth, cloying voice purred from the far side of the room. Elara sat in an armchair near the tall windows, sipping from a delicate porcelain cup. She was immaculate. Her golden hair was pinned into an intricate crown, and she wore a deep crimson dress that practically screamed her status as Luna. She looked radiant, entirely untouched by the betrayal of the previous night. Her face was a mask of calculated, terrifying triumph.

“Bryce spent the morning screaming at the walls, but his tracking network access has been completely revoked across the entire quadrant. Susan is in the secondary isolation cell, completely silent.” “Maintain the guard splits, Jayden,” I ordered coldly. “Shaun, have an elite honor guard unit waiting at the residential elevators in ten minutes. My Luna and I are coming down.” I cut the link and turned around. Elara was sitting up in the middle of the bed, her vibrant red hair tumbling over her shoulders in messy, beautiful waves. She had pulled the high collar of her emerald gown back into place, her fingers tracking the burning crescent mark on her skin. The brilliant violet ring around her