Elven Heartbound Novels & Stories

His voice was so hoarse that it made my ears sting, "I wondered why that thing didn't scoop out your heart. Turns out, your blood was the best shield..." …… I woke up drenched in sweat, back in my bed. It was a week before the Haunts world descended. The gold bar from last night's burial was still heavy in my pocket.

He was looking at a fragment of the Un-Made, a cosmic cancer that predated the Goddess, and his own blood had just recognized its ancient enemy. He didn't go to the council. He went to the one person who would understand the language of blood and prophecy. Elara, a direct descendant of the first Elara, was the current Keeper of the Heart-Song, a role that involved interpreting the subtle rhythms of Serelai's legacy within their bloodline. She lived in a chamber deep beneath the Nexus, where the walls were woven from living roots that pulsed with a soft, crimson light. He found her there, her eyes closed, her hands resting on a large, dormant crystal that was said to contain a drop of Serelai

She threw on her robe, hands shaking as she grabbed her healer’s satchel, dagger, and a small bundle of moonbloom seeds Liora had given her “for emergencies.” Bare feet on cold wood, then cold grass as she ran toward the heart stone.The path was hell.Wolves fought in the shadows Blackthorn guards holding lines against waves of Silverfang attackers, claws flashing, fangs tearing, blood spraying dark across moonlit ground.A young wolf the same one who had held the line at the first strike fell near the path, gashes across his chest, eyes wide with pain.Elara dropped beside him, hands pressing to the wounds.“Hold on,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Hold on ”He shifted to human form, gasping.“T

Elves. Maelda grew too, birthing fruits which when ripened, cracked open to reveal tiny Elves with silver hair and violet eyes. The royal bloodline, birthed by Maelda herself, the Mother Tree, keeper of the Dark Lord’s heart. Soon enough, the memories faded away and Prince Ron found himself standing before Maelda again. His gaze dropped to the steadily beating heart in her hands. “That’s… the Dark Lord’s heart.” Maelda nodded. Prince Ron mind whirled with everything he had just seen. “Is that what the Shadow Master is after? He wants to give the Dark Lord his heart back?”

“You heard me, right?” The two elves looked nervously from their dead leader, to Vanadine, then the blade he held before looking at each other. Vanadine knew they were weighing up the risks of attacking with the reward of the priceless metal he held in his had. The scarcity of metal in Elaris meant the blade he held would be enough when sold to set them both up comfortably for life. Their quandary, however, was whether they would live long enough to see any of it or even touch the blade.

The stench of charred hair and flesh filled my nose as her body sagged to the ground, blood oozing from the virtually cauterized stump. I jerked aside even as Lyra shrieked, covering Owen’s eyes with one hand, though he threw her away with annoyance, gaze darting between the dead and his brother. “Explain yourself,”Alpha Orion yelled at Tristan, who had already vanquished his axe, his arms crossed and his face fixed. “Her name is Embla. She’s vowed to Alpha Maximus, and”—he reached down to tear open the back of her dress, revealing the crimson tattoo of an eye—“she’s a child of Hoenir.”

"The Archivist doesn't want the Heart! He wants us to kill each other over it! If we both bleed on the stone, the contract resets for another three hundred years!" Lyra hesitated. For a split second, the grey in her eyes flickered, and I saw my sister, the girl who used to brush my hair and tell me stories of the South. "Elara?" she whispered. Suddenly, the chains of black glass began to vibrate. The Heart of the Mountain let out a pulse of energy that threw us both backward. The ice beneath us began to crack. “Ting.”

In the center of the chamber, suspended by chains of grey bone, was the Void-Heart. It was a jagged, fist-sized diamond of black salt. It didn't glow; it seemed to suck the light out of the room. It was the negative image of the Mother-Lode. I reached for it, my sapphire claws extending. But as my fingers touched the black salt, the bond in my chest screamed. ELARA! Kaelen was at the shore. He had landed. I could feel his heat slamming into the grey mist outside the tower. He was screaming my name, his shadow-energy clashing with the salt-wards of the Sisters.

He struts near the front of the pack, varying entrails hanging across his chest. In his right hand he holds a heart, nearly cleaned of all its blood. As if sensing my gaze, he glances behind him toward the trees. He squeezes the heart in his hand like a toy, casually tossing it up once. Twice. He raises a brow in my direction, a silent taunt and invitation to whoever is spying on him. It is my cue for entrance. Without any additional fanfare, I slip from the protection of the shadowed wood. The other vampires tense and turn in my direction. Some of their eyes flicker with recognition from when they rescued Kieran and brought him to Bella’s doorstep.

Nilah's Pov The Heart Of Aethelgard is a priceless, legendary artifact, a pendant made of a single, uncut "Star-Drop" diamond, encased in a delicate casing of silver. It was more than just a piece of jewelry; it was a historical relic rumored to have been lost during the Great Purge centuries ago. But more importantly for me, the Heart of Aethelgard was known in occult circles as the "Sovereign’s Shield." It was said to vibrate in the presence of toxins, protecting the wearer from any poison, hex, or dark influence.