Novel & Cerita Itrapped Forsaken Fanart

There he was. Ronan. Alpha of the Ashfang pack. Towering. Wet. Dripping. A towel slung low on his hips like it belonged there, casually disrespecting every ounce of self-control I had left. His abs were carved from stone. His waist? Unfair. A tattoo curled around his arm and crept slightly over his chest, like it had a story it was dying to whisper. I didn’t even want to think about how good he looked soaked and glistening like a forbidden rain god. “I—I—I saw nothing!” I yelped, clamping my eyes shut like that could erase what had just burned itself into my memory.

Those foggy memories were created after Lila left me to be captured by the Lycans, and as expected, they brought me back to Crimson Moon pack, and if I was right, I was somewhere underneath the mansion I had spent years making my home, tied up like a fucking criminal. But what crimes had I committed? From my perspective, the answer to that question would be, “None.” However, if seeking a man’s love is a crime, then I would be guilty as charged. If trying to ensure that the man I loved also loved me back was a criminal act, then fine! I would be a criminal. Or maybe my cries weren’t related to love or to the man I believed I loved. Perhaps it was about how I abandoned my people without lookin

ALL THE SUPPORT FROM YOU KEEPS ME GOING UNTIL THE END AND IS ALSO THE REASON I WILL KEEP GOING. THANKS. SEE YOU SOON, ROFEEAH: THE CREATOR OF HER UNIVERSE.

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.

“We need instructions. We need rules. If we just dive in, we’re dead.” Morgana exhales slowly, almost a shiver passing through her. “The portal is a labyrinth, alive and aware. It will show your deepest desires, your fears, your regrets… and it will use them. To rescue her, you must resist its temptations. Recognize them as illusions. Reject them. Know who you are and who she is to you. Only then can you reach her.” I tremble, voice breaking. “And if I fail?” Amara’s gaze sharpens. “Then you stay. And she… may stay as well. Forever.” I let out a strangled cry and stumbled back, clenching my fists.I have a greater destiny then to become a victim of a fairy trap.