Forbidden Old Melody Novels & Stories

“I will catch up to them. I’ll bring the Crystal to you myself.” Melody’s smile widened. “Rhea…” She leaned in close, her breath icy and wrong. “There will be no such chance.” Rhea stiffened. The Melody spoke again. But this time, the voice wasn’t hers. It was deeper. Older. A man’s voice layered beneath hers, filled with ancient malice. “You have done nothing but ruin everything for me, little fly.” The voice boomed, distorting the air. “And I have no use for you anymore.”

But now, with a different song. "The game starts again." Ozgur sighed roughly. "Do you know what song it is?" I asked hesitantly, and I looked at the bible. "I think it's Kitaro." I said again. "Yes, it's a melody from Kitaro." And in the end, the bible page shifted to the old testament. "Even though the melody is so good, the violin can't play the melody itself, because creating the melody has to be in collaboration with the team." I really believe in my analysis.

"Then you’ll have to listen to the Part You Can't Edit!" ​She didn't play a melody. She played the "Discord of the Deleted." She reached into the "Future-Memory" of the Elder Nora and pulled out the sounds of the "Failed Drafts"—the screams of the versions of her father that the Author had discarded. ​The amber-silver resonance hit the Ink-Cage like a hammer. The black letters splintered, falling to the deck as heavy, dark shrapnel. ​"The 'Third Twin' isn't yours, Ink-Man!" Nora roared. "He’s a Davis! And a Davis always chooses the Mess!"

"The music program was a Blood Moon tradition, Chika. I didn’t think you’d mind if I used that little melody you were humming in the shower. I just needed a hit to get the Okafor Moon Clan to notice me," Bianca smirked, her eyes gleaming with that predatory greed our family cultivated. "It wasn't plagiarism; it was a Whitmore contribution." I stared at my sister across the marble breakfast table, my hands trembling. That 'melody' was a complex arrangement I’d spent months scoring, a piece meant to prove I was more than just a political pawn. She’d turned it into a trashy club anthem for the Mafia elite.

Flashback "You know I love you, right?" King Philip whispered, that night as he rubbed Arabella's arm. They were sitting on their large bed. Arabella smiled uncomfortably. "I can't wait to have this baby with you." King Philip continued, rubbing her swollen stomach. Arabella coughed, climbing off the bed. The king jumped up, a frown on his face. "Bella, is everything alright?" He asked. Arabella grabbed her coat, putting it on. "I-I have to go." She said, putting her shoes on. "Did I say something wrong?" The king asked, his heart twisting in pain.

I thrashed about, wailed and pleaded, trying to free my hands from his iron grip but it was a futile attempt. Instead his grip became more tighter, it felt like he could pierce through my skin. His grip was searing hot. "Marco please"I pleaded, my voice hoarse and resounding within the walls of the mansion. He kept on dragging me to God knows where, my skin getting black-and-blue marks. Suddenly I heard an elderly shrill pierce through, drowning my own pleas.Grey hairs tied to a bun came rushing towards us.

Melodie hesitated, then placed Jessica’s fingers along the notes. “Not there. You skipped,” Jessica snapped. “No,” Melodie said softly. “It’s meant to falter there. The original tune... it breathes.” Jessica narrowed her eyes. “Play it.” Melodie blew gently. A fragile, haunting melody filled the air. Jessica listened, face unreadable. “Again,” she ordered. --- Nights bled together. “Faster.” “Start over.” “Wrong pitch.” Melodie’s lips cracked. Fingers shook. Bruises reopened. But she endured.

He was shouting and yelling that he was uncomfortable and Melody must be sent up to him at once so she could relieve him and she knew what that incurred. The disgusting old fool would have kicked off his bedding so he was naked from the waist down and it was all on show and she would be expected to bend over him and cover him up then plump up his pillows. His hands would be all over her body and she was not allowed to make a sound, any protest meant more humiliation. She shuddered at the thought of the numerous spankings she had endured for his pleasure, not once had she stopped him, he made it clear he would use the younger girls if she did not do as he asked.

A violin. Gentle. Melancholy. Beautiful. Noah Hart closed his eyes. "I know this piece." Victor whispered, "So do I." Elara looked between them. "What is it?" Victor smiled sadly. "Your parents' favorite." "They danced to it at their wedding." The music continued for almost a minute. Then... A click. A man's voice replaced the melody. Not Damien. Not Lucien. Not the Keeper. A stranger. Calm. Measured. "If this recording is playing..."

“For earlier…for the slap…For… all of it…It won’t happen again.” I looked up at her. “Are you still in love with him? Tell me the truth.” She hesitated and then sat on the armchair across from me. “I wouldn’t call it love…Not anymore. It’s… something else..a pull…a forbidden soulmate thing I can’t explain and can’t kill but I chose James…. I choose him every day.” I nodded slowly. “That’s my problem too Celine… I don’t want to marry Rachel…I did at some point but now I don't even know…maybe I thought I could have both…Fix it later…but now?” I laughed without humor.