Romans & histoires Eldergleam Sanctuary

I quickly glanced at my watch. 05:48. Five hours and forty eight minutes remained. As we climbed up the staircase, I noticed framed photos of Drago Caracas. Ranging from him proudly holding a deer’s head, about to fire at a tiger, and sitting on top of a lion, he seemed to have a passion for overpowering wild animals. One particular photograph enraged me, as Señor Ramirez and Drago Caracas were pictured smiling and shaking hands by the docks of Lower New York Bay. I couldn’t get over the fact that Señor Ramirez was a member of Obsidian. And he hadn’t mentioned it to us. Now he wanted us to steal from the very same organisation he was a member of. He told us that he needed the Golden Leaf for

In the heart of the glade stood the mystical creature—a radiant deer with glowing antlers that seemed to illuminate the surrounding beauty. "Welcome, noble protectors," the deer spoke with a voice that resembled a gentle breeze. "I am Orenda, the guardian of healing and harmony. I sense your mission and the weight of your responsibilities." Emily stepped forward, her voice filled with respect. "Orenda, we seek your guidance. Our hearts are devoted to mending the scars of the natural world and preserving its delicate balance. Can you show us the way?"

I gag as I push myself to my feet, and hold back from retching when I glance up. The glade is wide, as large as a half of Eldad, and looks to have been covered with twice as many rexumes. Only, they have been torched, much like the houses back in Halden, their stems standing in useless spikes above the ground. Interlaced with these stalks, are charred bodies; I count a dozen in all. I begin to retrace my steps. I could at least warn them, change the route. She's seen enough.

A pulse of green light glowed from it as Ellia stared in shock— Ellia didn’t know what it meant… The glowing meant that far away—another different locket and Moon Key has been activated— The race to the Sanctuary was fully on NOW.

I clutched the broken bracelet to my chest, stood up, and walked past them toward the stairs without another word. "Elara!" Liam called after me. "Where are you going?" I didn't look back. There was nothing left to say. Back in my room, I locked the door and collapsed onto the bed. My phone suddenly rang. It was an unknown number. "Miss Elara, this is the steward of the Far Mountain Sanctuary." An old voice spoke from the other end. "The elders have decided to accept your internship application. However, this is a closed program." "Once you confirm, you will have no contact with the outside world for one year."

a voice shouted through the roar of the fire. Elena’s head snapped toward the largest stone building at the rear of the sector—the High Sanctuary where the newborn pups and nursing mothers were kept. The heavy oak doors were chained from the outside, and a tall, gaunt mercenary captain was standing on the porch, a burning oil barrel resting directly beneath the wooden roof supports. He had a heavy iron torch in his hand, his eyes wild as he saw his men being slaughtered by Klaus's outcasts. "Stay back!" the captain screamed, his voice carrying a desperate, manic pitch as he held the torch over the oil barrel. "One step closer and I drop the fire! I will burn every pup in this room alive!"

she calmly lied. Silas exhaled sharply. “You spent nearly the entire day building that place, sometimes many days, even though I offered you our help.” She smiled, turning toward the window. Her gaze drifted to the heart of the Blackpine Forest. “Elysium Haven is a sanctuary where a woman are nurtured, empowered, and raised to her fullest potential. A divine place meant for growth and enlightenment. I don’t need anyone’s help with it.”

It was beautiful, silent, and intimidating. "We have been expecting you." Three figures glided towards them. They didn't walk; they hovered inches off the ground on magnetic discs. They wore flowing white robes. Their skin was translucent, showing purple veins underneath. Their eyes were completely white—blind, yet seeing everything. These were The Elders. The founders of The Order. "I am Sol," the central Elder spoke without moving his lips. The sound resonated in the air. "Welcome to Sanctuary." "Sanctuary?" Jackson kept his hand near his hidden pistol. "You sent assassins to kill my wife. You kidnapped my father. You call that a sanctuary?"

"Keep running operations normally." The vampire continues watching. I can feel his eyes on the building. Calculating. Assessing. Reporting. That night, I meet with Elara. The fae sanctuary operator. She's old, maybe eight hundred years. Seelie Court exile who runs refugee programs for supernaturals fleeing persecution. We meet at a neutral location. Coffee shop in Soho that caters to supernatural clientele. Private booth in the back. "Isla Reid. I've heard about your work." Elara's voice is musical, typical fae characteristic. "Shelters for newly turned wolves. Quite impressive for someone who's been packless less than two years."

She was in the middle of an inventory review—something about winter stores and the question of how much the sanctuary's expansion would draw from the pack's supplies versus what the satellite communities would contribute—when Thorne appeared in the doorway. "I have a proposal," he said. "Come in." He sat in the chair across from her desk—a desk she had acquired in the third week of the new routine, when it had become clear that surfaces for things were operationally necessary—and put a document on it. "A healer sanctuary," he said. "Formal. Established. A designated space at Black Hollow where Ashford descendants can train, where wolves from other packs can come for treatment, where the know