Forsaken Country Novels & Stories

Mike was just waiting patiently at the side of the door. I opened the diary and frowned. I thought it would be full of words. On every page, Liam only wrote one sentence. And most of the pages told me how Liam hated his whole family. While turning the pages, I realized at that moment my soul shifted because I would change his life. Liam was weak, and he needed me, who was brave enough to face his family. Maybe after I helped him, I would shift back to my actual body. But what he wrote in the very last entry surprised me a bit. He liked someone named Jax, and it was something that should not happen.

Lucy wasn’t with them. They looked exhausted, broken, and unkempt, as though the weight of everything that had happened was finally crushing them. “We had no idea you were also a victim,” Elizabeth said. “Mason hid it from us too. For years, we called you barren when it was never your fault.” This wasn’t only about them calling me barren. Their hatred had existed from the very beginning. Not having children only gave them an excuse. “You have every right to be angry with us,” she continued. “And we know we don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

Roydo felt his stomach vanish. The Marsh was a desolate, gray wasteland on the border with Vampire Kingdom. A place of despair and decay, filled with endless black swamps, dead trees, poisonous mist, and populated by renegade zombies and outcasts from all parts of the kingdom. Banishment to the Marsh was the worst punishment anyone could receive. "Your Majesty please reconsider." Donton begged. "I have made my decision!" Corpa said firmly. "Father please." Roydo pleaded tearfully, "I am sorry. I meant no-"

Her properties, everything she had acquired through manipulation and deceit was confiscated. And finally, she was banished. Cast out from all packs. Left to survive alone in the woods for the rest of her life. Her cries grew louder, more desperate. “Please… I didn’t do anything wrong!” She screamed, her voice breaking. “Freya forced me into it. She’s the wicked one!” A man stepped forward, his face hard. “You’re a failure,” he said coldly. “I wish you were never born.” Valentina’s body trembled with rage as she glared at the man.

The trees that do survive twist into grotesque forms, their trunks hollowed by rot, their branches clawing at the sky like broken fingers. The cursed valley, as the kingdom calls it, was once a place I swore I'd never tread. At first, it disgusted me that I’d sunk so low as to need refuge in this forsaken place. But now? Now it feels like home. Brutal. Honest. Unforgiving. It does not pretend. It does not lie. There’s more beauty in its desolation than Blood Moon ever had in its polished halls and hollow honour.

‘Sloane,’ Aisling whines. ‘No, Aisling. You know I’ve expected to always be alone. Maybe, after we’re Alphas, you can find someone to mate with in your wolf form. But that’s not the life for me, or us. We are forsaken. We are being punished, and punished women don’t get to live happily ever after. Our mother’s betrayal will end with us. I refuse to ever even consider having a daughter who may have to suffer the way we have.’

(Isabel’s POV) I could feel the echo rattling in my bones as the gates slammed behind me. Darkness engulfed me, and a cold, sharp wind ripped at my flesh. I had nothing to protect my feet, no lantern to guide me, and neither food nor warmth... Just me, naked and broken, pushed into the icy woods outside the kingdom I once called home. I was destined to be Luna. Rather than being respected, protected, and honored, I was abandoned to wander aimlessly; my body was moving, but my soul faded with each step.

The warmth of the evening air turned cold as Serena stared at the symbol seared into the paper—a jagged moon bleeding black ink, surrounded by thorned runes. Her fingers clenched around it involuntarily. The Forsaken. Once thought annihilated, they were little more than whispers in the dark, monsters parents warned their children about. But Serena knew this wasn’t folklore. It was real. The mark pulsed with the kind of malevolent energy that couldn’t be faked.

returned from shadow-walks smelling of nothing absent, scrubbed from existence and only partially restored. I tore through the final shelf in the archive with desperate fingers, scrolls cascading to stone. My torch flickered, throwing wild shadows. Then I found it: ancient scrolls bound in flesh-string. The parchment crackled like dry leaves as I unfurled them, forgotten language spilling across the surface like dried blood. "Realm of the Forsaken," I whispered. A cursed dimension where guardian spirits who broke their oaths were cast, starved of light, sealed with sorrow. I hesitated briefly. What mother would not risk damnation to save her children?

They’re stacking up like a pattern waiting to be seen, and I can feel the shape of it forming—something dark and sprawling, hiding in plain sight. Worse still, the forsaken are starting to push against our borders. They usually keep to the outskirts, wandering but never daring to cross into the city. Now, it’s different. They’re clawing to get in, desperate in a way that sets my nerves on edge. What are they running from? What force lies beyond our walls that even the forsaken fear? Even those we’ve tagged, monitored carefully through the grid, have begun vanishing without a whisper of where they’ve gone. No signs. No trails. Just gone.