Kotlc Nightfall Novels & Stories

They beat the international coalition by four days. Commander Elias Thorne was the man at the helm. He was a veteran of three orbital deployments, a man with ice in his veins, but even he felt the wrongness of the mission as the module descended. As the Artemis lander hovered over the northern pole, the comms link to Houston was eerily quiet. The crack was massive, far wider than the telescopic imagery had suggested. From low orbit, it looked like a scar on the face of a corpse.

Morning fog pressed pale against the enormous windows overlooking the mountains, turning the forest beyond into blurred shadows and silver light. The voices grew clearer near the study. “…not authorizing entry into Nightfall territory without review,” Darius was saying. Elara slowed automatically near the doorway. A man stood across from him near the desk, broad-shouldered and gray-haired with a Nightfall insignia stitched into the sleeve of his coat. One of the older wolves. Security, probably. Neither of them noticed her immediately. “The councils are already pushing back,” the man said quietly. “Blackwater’s escalating because they think they can force a mistake.”

Kneel down and apologize? Catie was flabbergasted. "What's wrong with Dad?" Zeus single-handedly established Nightfall, one of the six European clubs, to draw in heroes from all over the world. When the organization Nightfall was at its peak, it was no exaggeration to say that Europe was under its control! He, Catie, was also the young master of the Nightfall organization. He had been in an important position in the Curtain of Night for a long time. He had made many miraculous achievements.

“Sent by a rival pack.” My pulse quickens. Lucien remains perfectly still. “Which pack?” Marcus demands. Joren smiles faintly. “You already know the answer.” Marcus’s jaw tightens. “Say it.” Joren’s eyes gleam with dark amusement. “Nightfall.” The name spreads through the room in shocked whispers. Nightfall. One of the strongest neighbouring packs. One that has been circling Darkveil’s borders for years. “They wanted Darkveil weakened,” Joren continues calmly.

The thumping of hooves soon announced they had returned and Karl and his men stood from their campfires. A mercenary rode straight to Karl, dismounted, and handed him his report. Karl read the report with the glow of the fire, and he smiled. He expected all enemies of Strongfall to close their gates. The notorious private army called the Night Witch was in the south. It was enough to spark fear. "Let's go into the city," Karl ordered. Men mounted their horses, and others moved to put out the campfires. The gates opened to them, and they rode into the city.

People walked on pristine sidewalks free of cracks or holes, most with briefcases or cellphones pressed to their ears. Traffic thickened and thinned, becoming smoother when the two lanes we drove down opened up into four. It was at this point the trees began to multiply into densely packed forests, and the magnificent buildings grew scarce. During the drive I snagged Elijah’s phone and looked at the first map I could get my hands on. The Nightfall pack was named for the starry sky that overlooked the bowl-shaped valley it rested in, and was known for its Redwood trees, which stood taller than any other in the world.

“The women of my kind are called succubi, and we call our species as a whole lilitu. We are demons . . . I won’t lie about that. But we don’t need to drink blood to live, as vampires like Mr. Cillian do. We do, however, share their sensitivity to sunlight . . . which brings us to the great change before us.” Salem looked out the window. I joined him, staring out at the city, and the darkness enveloping its every corner. “It’s called the Nightfall. A ritual, to blot out the sun so that demons and vampires may walk the earth, unscathed by the light of day. It is to bring about a new age . . . an age where immortals rule.” “That cannot be,” I whispered, too horrified by the idea to accept it. “

Emanating from the shadows. Ronan dropped first, then Liam and Elara followed. I crouched at the edge, a flashlight beam sweeping across the dirt floor. “North wall,” Ronan muttered, tension crackling in the air. “Movement.” A low groan echoed from the shadows, followed by a hoarse voice. “Please… don’t kill me…” A figure crawled into the light, covered in filth, starving, bleeding. It was Kier. “What the hell—” I recoiled in shock. “That’s not possible.”

He seized a dagger and dragged it across the map, the metal screeching against stone before he slammed it down into Red Moon territory. “We strike here.” Another dagger followed harder, deeper. “And here.” A third punctured the map with a death mark. “We hit what they value. We burn their confidence. We make them remember who ruled these lands long before Riven dared raise his banner.” Ronan inclined his head. “Nightfall gives us cover.” Lucien’s eyes snapped up, blazing. “No,” he said sharply. “We move before night.” Silence fell… “Let them feel how fast retaliation comes,” he continued. “Let them understand that every step into our territory costs blood immediately.”

The runner’s gaze drops, and for the first time he looks… uncertain. Nate watches the shift like a man reading a lock. Then he says, gently, brutally: “You’re expendable. But the people you’ve been helping kill aren’t.” The runner’s throat works. Finally, he whispers, “Operation Nightfall.” The room tightens. Melody’s pen appears instantly. “Define.” “Dawn,” the runner says, voice rough. “Before the palace shifts wake guards. One last crash attempt. Through linens again. If that fails, through the King.”