Fallen Crest Series Novels & Stories

She heard Austin’s voice. “Hi, Love. We are here. We should get down now,” he said. He climbed down and opened the door for her to get off. Abigail climbed down the car. As she climbed down, she saw they were at a port. Abigail was awed by the beauty of the port. She could see half of the sun was hiding in the water as the sky was painted with orange and yellow hues. The birds which were flying back to their homemade her feel happy. She was mesmerized by the beauty of the setting sun. Suddenly a flash got into her brain that her time on earth was done.

By sunset, the entire Stone Mice tribe had surrendered, and the elders were all in a tent made on the remnants of Black Stone City negotiating terms with Verra. Xasha was extremely tired and was sleeping in the makeshift camp set up by the army. Krisan and the other shadow users were out scouting, and the dead were being prepared for burial. The end of the battle was not worth celebrating, as nearly 100 members of the Falling Stardust had died. Xasha vowed not to let any more recruits join battles without completing their training. While practical experience was important, life was even more important as only the living could use practical experience. The army, while tired and trying to get

Isabelle drank her coffee on the sun-drenched patio of her Upper East Side condominium the next morning, her head still reeling from the events of the night before. The alluring aroma of Damien's perfume seemed to cling to her very pores, making it difficult to think of anything else. She closed her eyes, unwelcome thoughts of his smoldering gaze and the carved features of his bare chest rushing back. The way his robe gaped open so tantalizingly, daring her gaze to roam. As they discussed the lurid details of their sham marriage, she was enchanted by his deep, gravelly voice.

“I’m not here. I’m in the temple. I’m—” “Are you?” the voice asked mildly. The scene shifted. The hall dissolved into smoke. When it cleared, I was standing—not kneeling—in the ruins of Mooncrest. The day of the fall. Only this time, it wasn’t memory. It was worse. Bodies lay everywhere. Not faceless wolves in blurred armor. My brothers. Alden sprawled near the broken throne, blood soaking his chest. Jax, half‑buried under fallen stone, arm at an angle that made my stomach lurch.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Flashback – Viper’s Orders Somewhere in an undisclosed location, Viper spoke to a shadowed figure across a private call: “Montrose and Crest are two heads of the same rotting beast. Cut them off. Bleed them. Make them nothing”. “And the girl?” Viper smirked. “Let her live long enough to watch everything she ever loved burn.” And as dawn crept over the city, Elena Crest-Montrose prepared not to survive the storm – but to become it. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The moment the broadcast went live, the world sh

“Does it… does it still exist?” Kyle’s face clouded over. “No, Ava,” he said quietly. “Mooncrest is no more. It’s now…Bloodcrest.” The name sent a shiver down my spine. Bloodcrest. It sounded harsh, brutal, a stark contrast to the image of the peaceful, joyful pack Kyle had described. What had happened? What had transformed Mooncrest into Bloodcrest? The questions piled up, each one adding to the growing sense of unease that settled in my stomach.

Silverstone pressed harder, relentlessly and disciplined, forcing Crestfallen back, step by bloody step. The forest floor became a graveyard, coated in thick red that it was hard to tell the difference between our fallen soldiers and theirs but we were winning and our numbers remained steady. At last, Crestfallen broke. They were not uprooted or defeated but cracked enough to retreat toward their inner territory, dragging wounded and dead alike. Their arrogance had cost them more than they expected and it was the opportunity we needed. "Advance!" I ordered, voice hoarse. "We must claim their territory today!"

Third Person’s POV “Kill them!” “Make them suffer!” “The fall of the reigning werewolves has come finally!” All the roaring of the rogues and lycans are booming around the place. In the big area of the north pack which used to be the Crimson Crest pack, stood a huge dome that could fit one basketball court. The place was full of blood lust monsters who serves no one but the king of rogues. In the center of the dome, the king of rogues, Brody stood. Beside him on his right is his slut or soon to be queen of rogues. And on his left was the witch who became their ally to finally bring down the four packs.

Eren's jealousy is getting stronger when he sees Eren's actions on the CCTV screen. After shooting the two monsters dead, Eren descended from the tree. While pointing his gun at the monster, Eren slowly approached. He wanted to confirm if the two monsters had been killed by the fire of his Dessert Eagle gun. He continued to approach the monster with the aim of retrieving his clothes that had been removed by him. “Ah finally the trap I made worked as well. Looks like I succeeded again in the second mission. Eren put his clothes back on which had been torn in several parts due to the claws and bites of the beast.

Joel’s POV Small Crest Foundation. A large white building that had wild ivy spread across the brick, paint peeling on the front door and gargoyle statues which set the tone for the orphanage. The four of us went inside to see if we could find information on Rose. Upon entering I spotted a woman dressed in nun garb. “Excuse me sister, who can we speak with about a previous adoption?” I asked. She simply looked me up and down and crooked a finger to follow. We trailed her until we reached a large red door with an old style knocker on front.