Jace Velaryon Novels & Stories

"You don't have the shift. The shift is what connects our physical bodies to the deep sight. Without the wolf, you are locked inside your own skull." The room went silent. We had won the war, and we had won the ideological victory. But biology was a wall we could not break. Suddenly, the heavy oak door of the archive creaked open. A thirteen-year-old boy walked in. Jace had grown tall in the three years since he had silenced the Iron Vault. The cloudy, unfocused gray of his eyes had been replaced by a piercing, heavy clarity. He did not carry himself like a child. He carried himself like a boy who spent his days holding the hands of dormant monsters.

I shriek, ready to scream for help, but the words die in my throat when I see who it is. It’s my personal guard, Jace. He is this tall and scary-looking guard with a mask that has been by my side since I was little. The poor fellow can’t talk. This is why he was thrown out of his own pack. He apparently can’t shape-shift, either. But that doesn’t make him a useless werewolf. He is my father’s most talented warrior and can fight with a range of different weapons, which is why he was assigned to be my personal guard.

The scent hit me first—pine and leather and something dark that made my wolf whimper in confusion. "Well, well," Jace's voice was low and mocking. "The orphan finally gets what she deserves." I spun around, shock and pain warring in my chest. "What?" He stood there in his black funeral suit, hands in his pockets, that cruel smile playing at his lips. But something was different about his eyes—they looked almost... hungry. "You heard me," he said, stepping closer. "Maybe now you'll finally learn your place. No daddy to protect you anymore. No family to hide behind."

Something between. A search party. And at the center of the movement, identifiable through the description Pell had obtained from a contact at the neutral territory boundary — tall, dark-haired, the particular build of a wolf who trains seriously but not militarily, familiar to anyone who had spent time at Moonlight Pack. Jace.

He didn't expect that a child could bear so much resemblance with his father that the only way to differentiate between them is their age and body sizes. While Eli was going to take a bath, Jace went to the basement. The assassin was a shadow of himself as he laid like a dying man on the floor, his wounds were bound up but he seemed to have gone without food for two days. "Don't worry, let's see if James Maslow is capable of saving your wife and daughter from my wrath"Jace declared. The man snapped his head up and glared at Jace. How did he know, did he do research on the email he showed them? Oh gosh, he shouldn't have let him know about those emails.

"Your father and the entire gang think you're dead. If anyone needs to explain anything, it's you." Brand's anger faltered, replaced by confusion. He stepped back, his expression shifting as he struggled to piece things together. "The symbol . . . your strength . . . the Cave . . . Are you a werewolf or a mage?" "I'm a fire mage," I replied, watching as his demeanor changed yet again. His voice softened, hesitant. "Are you . . . like me?" 'He's sharp,' Naila said. 'Just like his father.' "Yes, I am," I admitted. "Now will you talk to me?"

Magnus’s face twisted, his silver eyes narrowing as he looked up at the sky. “No,” he muttered. “Impossible.” The reflection screamed in my head. Push him back. Seal the gate. He cannot be here! But he was. A shape forced itself through the fracture in the sky — bloodied, broken, but burning with fury. Jace clawed his way into the realm, his chest still marked with glowing runes, his body trembling with the effort. “Let her go!” His voice cracked through the ash, raw and merciless. Magnus spread his arms wide, mocking. “Ah, the loyal wolf. You just don’t know when to die, do you?”

I heard his voice cry with despair over the link, helpless as he was forced to watch. Valor chuckled menacingly under his breath, turning his gaze towards Jace. "You tore our family apart; so I'll tear yours!!" Fuming with anger, Valor closed his hand into a fist and the vines suddenly tightened their grip onto Jace, literally squeezing the life out of him as he yelped in agony.

“That dream, that was real, right? It happened, and all of that happened. But..w-why did my parents not tell me anything about that?” “A-and that...that boy. Who’s he?!” “You already know him.” “Who?” As soon as I asked this question..I began to realise. That scar, that face, those eyes. That hatred towards me. Valentine walked right in front of me, grabbed both my hands and kissed them, feeling guilty. I stare deep into his eyes as I finally say it out loud. “Its.. Jace Liester, isn’t it?” Valentine took a long pause before finally saying...

I couldn't blame him, though; no one could hear the car's soft-running engine unless they possessed power like mine. Being a Lycan, I not only had sharp eyesight that could see through thick darkness, but I could pick up any smell or hear anything, even if it was still miles away. "Doctor Kedeva is approaching; open the gate for him." I said it firmly, emphasizing the urgency in my voice. The guard hesitated for a moment before finally nodding and reaching for the gate controls. The car drew closer, and I sensed the increased thumps in my heart. I was happy that Sony could finally get a treat and mad at Kedeva at the same time. He knew how important he was at the pack and that he was suppose