Hazelight Games Novels & Stories

Nate led Cloud and Ryde on each hand as we went deeper into the city. The Kingdom of Hazel was unlike Vertez, Sanver, nor Thalia. It looked like something straight out of a Harry Potter world. The city buzzed with busy people wearing something that resembles robes. Stoned floors lined with shops that sell different colors of bottles with strange liquid in them. A bunch of herbs and weeds hanging from the stall. Carriages with wooden wheels drawn by horses passed by. Shouts echoed from left to right as sellers bargained with their customers. As we passed by one of the shops I saw a sign saying: NEWTS EYE. FRESHLY PLUCKED.

By 07:00, the ambient warmth of the bedroom had vanished, replaced by the clinical blue glow of three separate holographic monitors floating over the marble kitchen island. I sat on a high stool, wrapped in one of Malakai’s dark gray linen shirts. It swirled large on my frame, smelling heavily of him—cedar, rain, and the faint, bitter hint of tobacco. My fingers raced across a slim, encrypted terminal, linking the Vesper protocols into Zero’s remote proxy network.

“Here we go again with this. Just because she is from another pack you think it’s okay to call her names and insult her. This is my pack Evelyn. My decisions are final. This is your last warning. Stop with the insults or you’re going to regret it.” I got tired of speaking in parables so I decided to come out and say it. “Hazel isn’t who you think she is,” I started. “I’m warning you Evelyn,” he growled. “If you don’t stop now, I’ll stop you.” “She’s from the Shadowclaw pack.” His eyes slightly widened, as he had a lot of shock breaking through his stony expression. “What are you talking about?” “I mean what I said,” I went on, my voice growing stronger. “Hazel is part of the Shadowclaw pack

she said simply. Hunter’s jaw clenched. “I don’t need your help, witch.” “Yes, you do,” Hazel said, not moving. “I have contacts in the black market and with several covens. I can get those ingredients faster than you ever could on your own. And some of those contacts?” She smirked slightly. “They might need a little brute force to cooperate. Which is where you come in.” “I would rather work alone,” Hunter said through gritted teeth. Hazel raised an eyebrow. “Then Astrid dies because you won’t get those ingredients in time without me.”

For the first time since he had begun working with Amelia Harlow, he didn’t worry that she was being played. He worried for the people who thought they were playing her. *** Amelia paused outside Hazel’s door, her hand hovering midair before she knocked. Through the slightly ajar door, the glow from a laptop screen lit the room in soft blue light. Hazel sat cross-legged on her bed, earbuds in, eyes fixed on the screen as her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard. Books were spread around her, neat but numerous, a quiet testimony to how seriously she took her studies. Amelia knocked once.

Hazel chuckled, amused by their display, as she climbed down the stairs. "You are awake. How are you feeling?" Leonardo asked worriedly, and Hazel shrugged. "I feel okay, a little better than I was," she replied, turning to Gina. "Hello! I'm Hazel!" she introduced herself with a polite smile. Gina eyed her warily, probing her subconscious mind to see the type of person she was. Not feeling any kind of hostility from her, Gina relaxed and stretched out her hands. "I'm Gina, your mate's older sister," she introduced, and Hazel flushed at the mention of mates.

She packed her laptop into her leather bag, turned off her office lamp, and walked out into the dark, quiet hallway. The main overhead lights had automatically shut off hours ago to save energy. The only lights left were the dim, yellowish emergency bulbs lining the baseboards, casting long, eerie shadows across the carpet. Hazel walked toward the main elevator bank, pulling her phone out of her pocket. She opened her messages, typing out a quick, excited text to Liam about the promotion, even though she knew he was in the middle of a workday in Singapore and wouldn't reply for hours. She reached out and pressed the down button for the elevator.

It was a given. “So Hazel, you will play in the games me and Axel have planned for you just to keep us entertained. If you win, we call off the war, but if you don't— oh, sweet Hazel, there will be bloodshed.” My tummy clenched, and I found it hard to swallow. It was obvious. This wasn't something simple. “Don't be scared. It's just one game from each of us to appease our wrath.” he explained, and I had that strong persistent feeling that the games would be nasty.

Hazel had engineered every pixel of that photograph, then deleted her own evidence with a quiet satisfaction. “She’ll recover,” Hazel said softly. “Women like her always do. They just learn to bleed in private.” Mia tilted her head. “You sound like you pity her.” “I don’t.” Hazel took a slow sip. “But I understand her.” For a moment, neither spoke. The city glittered beyond the windows, London in its evening finery, pretending to be clean. Hazel stood before the glass, watching her reflection ripple in the dark pane. “It’s strange,” she murmured. “You win a game, and all you feel is… lighter.”

When I'd said that, I meant every single word of it. Her genuine smiles make my entire day. It's all I wanted to see. It's clear she remembers that day as well. Her hazel eyes light up and she beams like a lighthouse leading a lost ship home, a ship that really needed a sense of belonging today. "That offer still stands. It's still on the table," I repeat, giving her a nod of assurance. "All you have to do is speak up and we..." I motion between AJ and I, "will both have you covered with whatever it is that you need."