Fingers Of The Mountain Oblivion Novels & Stories

But they had a leader who had just broken the Coven’s strongest spell. As we began the long, dangerous march toward the Obsidian Mountain, I felt the pulse in my chest grow a fraction stronger. I'm coming, Kaelen, I thought, the crimson thread of the bond humming with anticipation. Hold your breath. The world is about to burn. Deep beneath the mountain, in a pocket of air no larger than a coffin, a hand moved. Kaelen’s fingers, stripped of skin and caked in dried blood, clawed at a slab of obsidian. His lungs were screaming, his ribs were crushed, and his wolf was whimpering in the dark.

A smirk full of derision did nothing to abate the murderous glint on those terrifying beastly red pupils. Long slender fingers curled on my thin neck and the weakest grip of this devil almost shattered the living daylights out of me. The warmth coming from those fingers brought forth chills colder than the year-round snow of the north mountains. My feet flailed helplessly as I tried to keep the edges of my toes touching the ground. My hands clutched at his strangling arm, but my weak strength only sported whitened nail marks on his skin. “L-Let me…ugh…g-go!”

The rest of the corpses could not escape too far before they were destroyed by the human-shaped skeleton and turned into broken pieces. Caspian's breakthrough of a realm had so obvious effect on the human-shaped skeleton. "But... it's not enough..." The human-shaped skeleton carried the spear on his shoulder, raised his head, and looked into the Mist. There was a frightening darkness in his eyes, but at this moment, it seemed that some kind of emotion was revealed. Deep in the fog, there seemed to be a strange-shaped mountain standing there. The mountain was like a giant's palm. Its five long fingers pointed straight at the sky.

The team advanced, moving cautiously but confidently, slipping into the cave’s shadowed mouth, the scent of danger still lingering in the air. They crept through the intricate stone corridors, the mountain walls cold and damp under their hands. In the distance, faint chanting echoed from a hidden chamber, a reminder that they were not alone. Marcus held a red crystal, its glow shifting subtly to mark the correct passage, guiding them deeper into the heart of the mountain.

Night wind whipped around Nyra as she stood at the base of the ancient mountain, its black crags looming like a jagged crown against the starless sky. The infernal brand on her palm throbbed with each heartbeat, a constant reminder of Imreth’s cruel bargain. Caelum’s lifeless form and Ryker’s groans echoed in her memory, she would not fail them again.

My name. I gripped Kael’s hand tighter. By the time we reached the first rise of the Whispering Mountains, I could hardly breathe. My legs ached. My vision swam. But something urged me on. It was something beyond fear. It wasn’t long before the path vanished entirely, swallowed by creeping vines and thick fog. Kael knelt at a moss-covered stone and brushed the dirt from it. Etched into its surface was a spiral, jagged like a wolf’s claw.

Let the snow wash the blood off your name. I gripped the heavy iron handle of the lever, my knuckles turning white as the frost began to bond my skin to the metal. The mechanism was connected to a series of subterranean black-powder charges buried deep within the jagged rock faces of the crags directly above the pass. If I pulled it now, the mountain would slide, throwing hundreds of thousands of tons of sharp blue stone and packed ice onto the vanguard below, completely sealing the valley from the western territories forever.

POV DARLENE The bone-white mountain was not made of stone, but of the fossilized remains of the First Howl—a calcified graveyard of primordial energy that felt cold enough to brittle the very marrow of my bones. As I climbed the jagged ridge, the air grew thick with the smell of ozone and the sterile, metallic scent of the Platinum Sentinels.

A dark, slow-burning smirk touched the corners of his chiseled mouth at my unyielding stubbornness, before he released my jaw and threw the vehicle door open, stepping directly out into the roaring blizzard. I followed him instantly, my boots sinking deep into the freezing, blood-slicked mud of the lower mountain pass as the 10,000 royal soldiers formed a massive perimeter ring around our positions. The mountain view was breathtaking. High above us on the frozen cliffs, ancient obsidian arches cut through the gray clouds, the gateway to the Forbidden Mountain altar. Suddenly, a violent, unnatural jolt rattled the entire mountain foundations, a massive shockwave of black energy blasting down

A bottomless, hollow sorrow welled up inside me. Oh, Alexander. You look so pathetic, drowning in your own lies. That night, three years ago, as you were boarding your private jet with Oliver, I was chained in a damp, dark basement. Vivian's five rogues circled me. One of them was slowly, meticulously, carving the Luna tattoo from the back of my neck with a silver knife. "Heard the Luna loves her little pup," the lead rogue sneered, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. "Too bad. Can't even save herself, let alone her daughter."