Loomian Legacy Novels & Stories

I said quietly, deliberately, “I loved you like a brother I never had. I don’t see why that should change. Legacy is important. Family is important. Ours should always remember that.” I watched as his face crumpled—ridiculous, emotional, almost tearful. And then, before I could step away, the slimy bastard had the gall to hug me. Hug me. My arms stayed at my sides, but I let him. Let him think he had wormed his way into something soft and sentimental. “You have the best war plans, Cassius,” he gushed, voice sticky with awe. “Not just mine this time.” I let the words drop smoothly, lazily, as I flipped open the folder. “I had help. From my mate. Lorien.”

“She’s mine. And nothing fragile stays fragile under my watch.” “That’s not how children work.” “Then I’ll learn,” he said simply. Wren dozed again. The monitor beeped steadily. Liora leaned closer, voice like a blade’s edge. “If you turn this into leverage—custody, control, ownership—I will fight you with everything I have.” Varian’s gaze locked on hers, unwavering. “Not leverage. Legacy.” “I don’t care about your legacy.” “You should. Because she is it.” Her breath caught. For a moment, she saw not the kingpin but a man fighting his own reflection in a hospital window.

"You give me my memories back, and in return, I’ll give you something just as valuable." Lorien tilted his head, intrigued but skeptical. "And what, pray tell, do you have that could possibly interest me?" I swallowed hard. "A blessing. One that will allow you to experience the beauty of a mate bond and successfully reproduce with your true mate." For the first time, Lorien’s smirk faltered. He studied me carefully, the red glow of his eyes flickering as he processed my words. The silence stretched between us, heavy, suffocating. Then, finally, he spoke. "How can I be sure you’ll keep your promise once your memories are restored?"

"We didn't have the time." "A shame," he murmured, his tone genuinely sympathetic. "Still, these texts may hold some value. Tell me, have either of you heard of the Elder's Staff?" "I have not," Cassius said. I shook my head, still lost in the echo of my memories. "Then allow me to enlighten you." Lorien selected a slim volume from the Oakhaven stack, its pages brittle with age. "According to legend, a staff was passed down through generations of Oakhaven’s ruling elders. It was more than a symbol of power; it was a conduit, a living repository for the memories of all who had wielded it, granting its master dominion over ancient and powerful magic."

Elara announced: “These are the Guardians of Legacy. They will watch the treaty we forged—so it never fractures again.” The crowd cheered. In the bustling crowd, Hannah, Elara’s daughter, tugged her hand. Hannah: “Mama, what’s legacy?” Elara knelt. Elara: “Legacy is the light we leave—to guide those we love long after we’re gone.” Hannah smiled and ran off. Lanterns were lit again around the boundary, library, weaving hall, healer’s hearth. They formed a ring—warmth against winter’s shadow. Elara walked between them. Each glow told a story—love, sacrifice, hope.

Even in the dim twilight filtering through the curtain gap, the jade seemed to pulse with a faint, cool luster. "Your mother told me that this stone carries the promise of your family's true destiny," Mrs. Thompson whispered, taking a thin leather cord and looping it around my neck. The cool stone rested directly over my hammering heart. "Never take it off, Evelyn. Never let anyone see it. It is the only proof of who you really are."

"You kept the legacy alive." Lily smiled, her eyes on the roses. "We did it. Together. Every one of us." The garden was alive. The roses bloomed, the fountain flowed, the willow swayed. The family gathered, the stories were told, the love continued. The legacy of Victoria and Nathaniel and Daniel and Lily lived on, in every petal, every leaf, every heartbeat. "This is who we are," Lily said. "This is where we came from." Her children nodded. Her grandchildren listened. Her great-grandchildren played.

It seemed the universe had a way of removing the people I loved. First Sebastian with the accusations, now my father and his death. Who was next? My stuffed rabbit? I let out a short bitter laugh, the rage rising within me. That sound drew the attention of Helena and Camille. ‘Are you laughing, Liora?’ Helena turned to me, her eyes red from crying. I ignored her, because I didn’t know what hurtful words my anger would prompt me to say. ‘Of course she is,’ Camille said. ‘Father left most of the company shares to her, remember? Who knows what else she must benefit from him after his death?’

// A/N: *mes pattes* is cajun slang for " my paws, or feet" BIG ANNOUNCMENT! Legacy is now available on multiple platforms, I will leave details on my Facebook page @facebook.com/danger.beanz.3 Happy Reading <3

"Not phantom. Strategic. We get the access codes. We squeeze him until the last dollar leaks out. Then we dispose of him." I scoffed. "You’ve always been obsessed with his money. But that’s what you never understood—power isn’t in the numbers on a screen. It’s in legacy. Lena’s father’s fortune is bigger, cleaner, and far more useful. Kian’s remaining pieces are outdated relics." "Relics that could be moved," Harlin countered. "Funneled quietly into our offshore operations. He knows how to play the system. Those 'relics' could build our own empire. Not piggyback off someone else's."