Emblem Julian Hyper Novels & Stories

“Damian is gone. Julian took him. He wants both Phoenix rings. I have one. Where’s the other?” At the name Damian, something shifted in her face:?recognition, sharp and painful, like a wound reopening. Her lips parted slightly, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before the regretful mask slipped back into place. “Damian Asherwood…” she breathed, almost to herself. The name carried so much history as she said them. Before I could press, she looked up. “Who is this Julian?” The question hung in the air. I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to pace. “Â villain who wants to bring me down ând take the empire for himself. His family used to run in the same circles as Father. Now he’s trying

Julio said with dissatisfaction, "Uncle, stop having conspiracy theories about everyone in this world, how many people know my real identity?" That was a good point. Julio’s identity was special, with a bloodline shared between the Dumont and Delucca families, and also the third generation's eldest grandchild of both families. His status was naturally expensive. But with this kind of status, it was natural to be watched by many people. To keep him safe. And of course to exercise and cultivate him.

“I will tell him that that's real. That I love you.” Emilia turned to him, the eyes still moist. “And when he enters you? If he destroys you?” Julian smiled dark. “Then I build something new. With you. I need no Imperium. I need you.” He kissed her tenderly, then more and more passionate. He loved her slowly and deep, Eyes firmly connected to hers as if he wanted to show her that he would never give her up. “My wife,” he whispered at every shock. “Even if we are not married yet.

This is our mate. For a moment that felt like eternity, they simply stared at each other across the crowded courtyard while something profound and irreversible formed between them. Juliana felt her wolf settle into perfect contentment for the first time in her life, as if she'd been unconsciously searching for this person and had finally, finally found him. Then her gaze dropped to his blazer, and she saw the crest that made her blood turn to ice. Montague. The intertwined wolves and crescent moon that had haunted her family's nightmares for generations. The symbol of everything she'd been taught to fear and oppose and avoid at all costs.

I grabbed the steering wheel with my left hand and looked up at the catwalk. Julian was stepping into the open bay of the helicopter, his gray Astorian military uniform completely dry, his pale blue eyes staring down at me with absolute disgust. He had Leo tucked under his left arm like a piece of light luggage. "Julian!" I screamed over the roar of the blades. "Put him down!" "He is the future of the Eastern sector, Alexander," Julian called back, his voice amplified by the chopper's external comms. "You had your turn with the family name. You failed. Let the true heir take the crown."

Marcus didn't answer. Julian moved beside Ellie, peering down at the fragile paper. "What is it?" Ellie looked closer, angling the flashlight until the faint impression sharpened. The damaged seal still showed part of an emblem. A bird. Its wings spread wide, caught mid-flight, frozen in wax for a quarter of a century. Above it, four Roman numerals. IV. Level Four. "No," Marcus whispered. Damien turned sharply, something hardening in his expression. "You've seen that symbol before."

"The hull will not hold for more than sixty seconds! We need a diversion!" Beneath Isabella, Julian’s chest heaved with a ragged, wet breath. His stormy gray eyes, though clouded with immense physical agony, burned with the apocalyptic, cold-blooded intellect that had built an empire. His large, scarred hand reached out, his cold fingers weakly grasping Nikolai’s combat boot. "The drone... fuel cells," Julian rasped, his velvet voice a broken, terrifying whisper that carried effortlessly through the chaos. "Vanguard... protocol."

“You recognize it.” I nodded. “I’ve seen it.” “Where?” I looked at him. “My parents said it was on the cloth I was wrapped in when they found me.” Julian’s expression darkened. “That’s impossible.” He whispered. “Why?” He pointed at the stone. “Because this isn’t a Silvercrest symbol.” I stared at him. “What is it?” He hesitated. “A royal crest.” My stomach dropped. “Whose?” Julian looked at Lucien. The latter’s face had gone completely still.

Julian asked, stepping closer with his reddened face. “Ask your father who the hell the Everharts are. Maybe he’ll explain better to you.” He said, making me furrow my brows in confusion. What the hell is going on? “Everharts? You think I give a fuck about your last name? I'm a Montclair! For fucks sake, we’re literally royalty, so don’t you dare act like you’re anything but beneath me.” Julian yelled, swinging his hands around like a child. “And you.” He said, pointing at me, “You will be a good little fiancée by coming over to my side, and not holding another guy’s hand like a whore.”