His Muse Novels & Stories

But then again… “So you get to be a muse and I don't? So you're okay with my fictional ladies being with your fictional side?” “Are you okay with it?” He shot back, looking me dead in the eyes. “If you're not, then don't make me a muse either. You can have all of me. I'll give you all of me, without any fucking hesitation.”

“Finally! My muse arrives.” She laughed softly. “Muse? What are you plotting now?” “Sit,” he commanded with exaggerated drama, patting the piano bench. “Today, we’re writing a song. The Liana Song. An anthem that will make the world know you’re mine.” She gave him a look. “Yours?” He smirked. “Don’t argue. Leo will try to write you into boring business reports, Cassian will try to draft legal contracts in your honor, but me? I’ll give you music. That way, no matter what happens, the whole world will hum your name.”

As soon as my vision cleared, I found myself in a room that neither belonged to me nor my parents. Where was I? Am I dead? Is this what heaven looks like or am I in hell? But I don't think watching K-pop concerts online illegally is a sin. My gibberish thoughts were interrupted by the door as it cracked open revealing an old lady. Lady Ember. I know her and even everybody in our pack does.

he said, sitting outright naked on his bed, his eyes still fixed on mine, as a grin engulfed his face, “And tonight I will be your muse.” Those last words, shut my entire brain stem down.

I was flogged a hundred times for making a laughingstock out of the future king. He has all the say in the palace, so I knew better than to cross him. Anyway, that was all the thing of a past now. I just have to wait a few more months and I will finally be able to spread my wings! My life-long dream of becoming the member of the Mystic Muses was about to reach fruition. Mystic Muses was a sect mostly comprised of female descendants of another minor deity, Lilith. They followed her ways and in order to honor her name, they only accepted maiden with the highest honor. In layman's term, only virgins were allowed.

“You can't blame her. It's not like people from Black Rose like her much either. Don’t worry about it; she’s not mad at you.” “How do you expect people to react to the news about me being your muse? From what your sister said, you don’t have muses.” “I do… just not every day,” he paused. “In this sense, I usually have muses for the night—ladies I’m drawn to after every party. I take them into my room and…” “Sleep with them,” I finished. “More than that. I can do anything I want with them,” he said, looking at me dauntingly.

Muse's attendants laughed. "Great Master Pearlo is our most powerful Earthly Celestial in the Mystique Realm. He has been undefeated since 300 years ago. Almost everyone is below him except Saint Onyx. Not even a Heavenly Celestial could," one of them said. "Honestly, do you really think you can marry Mirth under Lady Muse's watchful eyes?" another added. Mirth blushed and tightened her fists. "Don't bother with them. They don't know how big the universe is," Logan said calmly.

MIA: “OMG YOU DID IT.” LENA: “I may or may not be 10% traumatized and 90% fascinated.” MIA: “Girl. That’s the artist’s curse. You’re officially his muse.” Lena smiled at her screen, her cheeks warm. Muse. The word sounded dangerous. Addictive. But as she walked away, her umbrella forgotten, rain kissing her skin, she couldn’t help but think: If this was how their first session felt just posing what would happen when Damien Cross decided to paint the parts of her no one else had ever seen?

"Is that what I look like?" "Mm hmm." I nodded with a teasing smile. "You know that's not what I look like. My pec muscles are not that ridiculous," he said, still laughing. "Well." I bit my lip. "Maybe I lost inspiration." He stopped laughing. "You need to be inspired." "An artist should be inspired by her muse." "Seems like I didn't inspire you enough." I shook my head, maintaining the flirtatious smile on my face. He took my hand. "An artist can also feel her muse. Feel the ridges and hardness of every part that needs to be portrayed."

I pulled free first, “Sorry. But don’t think this counts for anything, I’m still mad at you.” “Fair enough,” he kissed my cheek, “But before we start, know that I won’t be able to answer everything.” I sat on my desk, “Then answer this, who was that voice?” “You’re Muse,” he said lightly. I stared at him blankly, “What do you mean?” “Everyone has some form of music in their souls,” he explained, “But a musician has a unique Muse inside of them, whether it be classical, rock, or a mixture of both.”