Kda Novels & Stories

Shawn's face was almost full of different shapes while Jade's face was barely drawn on. The tables turned and Shawn's team began to win and Shawn wrote a letter on her forehead for each win. At the end of the game, Shawn's team emerged as the winner. On his face were a mustache, a variety of shapes, and a hippo while on Jade's face was written: JADE IS A LOSER!!!

In seconds, I was on the floor laughing out my lungs. "What's funny?" She asked. "You've lost it, Cam! You've really lost it." I said, regaining my composure. "I'm not joking!" She yelled at me in annoyance. "How do you expect me to believe that I'm this monster from an ancient fable told to kids?" "I don't know? But it is the only explanation that I can think of." She exhaled loudly. "Think about it, the name Kopis is ancient Greece for a knife and it's no coincidence that your name..."

“Step forward.” He did. Tall, broad‑shouldered, early twenties. Kade. Good in a fight. Good at following orders. Terrible at nuance. Aiden remembered him at sixteen, shaking in a clinic bed after a bad shift, his mother begging for something—anything—to calm him without a collar.

Sora “Kade, please stop. Don't be stupid.” I tug at his shirt, trying to get him to shut up, but all he does is grab my wrist and press a kiss to my fingers. I scowl at him, wondering what the hell is running through this lunatic's head again. “Kade,” one of the other men warns, his name tag reading Reed. “You should listen to Sora. This isn't a joke.” Kade smiles as he steps around the table, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “In the month since I came back into the limelight, I've brought in over a million in brand deals. If I leave, I'll be taking all of that with me.”

And then— The doors opened. The sound hit her all at once. Roaring. Shouting. The kind of energy that made your chest tighten whether you wanted it to or not. The arena. Mona stepped inside slowly, her senses overwhelmed. The air was thick, heavy with sweat, smoke, and something metallic underneath it all. Blood. Her eyes lifted. Straight to the ring. And then she saw him. Kane. Her breath caught. He looked... different. Bigger somehow. Sharper. The lights above the ring cast harsh shadows across his body, every muscle defined, every movement precise.

But inside the tent, the atmosphere is thick with frustration. Kade sits on the edge of the reinforced medical cot, his massive, heavily muscled torso stripped bare. His chest is a map of healing scars, the deep, purple bruises from the singularity drive’s gravity well fading into a sickly yellow-green. But it is his left arm that draws my eye.

Silence fell like a heavy blanket over the corridor. Kade stood at the top of the stairs. His black shirt was torn across his chest, his claws fully extended, and his eyes weren't grey or gold—they were burning, liquid fire. The scent of winter, smoke, and pure lethality filled the hallway so thickly it made my eyes water. He didn't look at Drake, who was groaning on the floor. He didn't look at Jace or Beth. His glowing eyes locked straight onto me, taking in my bruised throat, my bloodied hands, and my ragged breathing. "Ten minutes were up, Kira," Kade said, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that shook my very bones.

Dante Moretti. Victor’s most ruthless rival. She had heard the name whispered in fearful voices around the estate, but now, seeing him up close, she understood why. He was nothing like Victor. Where Victor’s dominance was controlled and suffocating, Dante exuded something more sinister…. chaotic and cruel. He was tall and lean, his dark suit perfectly fitted, but his presence alone made the room feel smaller. His jet-black hair was slicked back, exposing a sharp jawline and piercing green eyes that held a sick kind of amusement.

They didn’t need to be. Marek and a handful of Nightfang and Blackmoon scouts gathered around him, light on their feet, eyes sharp. “Rule one,” Kade said, twirling a dagger in his fingers. “You are not heroes. If you get bogged down in a fight, you’re dead, and the mission fails. Your job is to move. Fast. Hit the target. Move again.” He flicked his wrist. The dagger flew, point‑perfect, and sank into the carved “tree” post dead center, splitting the crude sigil someone had painted there.

CONGRATULATIONS! Hearing that, K Whatever was somewhat satisfied and clapped her hands which V joined too. ~Player 07~ -K Whatever Rank: F Job: Breaker Points: 111,111 HP: 76/100 (Soul exhausted) MP: 0 Intelligence: 99 Physical Strength: 35 Mental Strength: 153 Emotional Strength: [Error] Charm: 130 Luck: -40 Faith: 1 Ability: Space Bag, Healing Prowess, Regeneration