Lovecraftian Novels & Stories

Once I told her about Bolton, she didn’t know what to say about it, and neither did I. I really did love Bolton, and I knew it more than ever. I couldn’t want someone this strongly when he did everything in his power to show me how little he desired a life with me. It should mean the opposite, but the reality was, I fell in love with another selfish Lycan. This time, he was also a Vampire and one becoming obsessed with the power my blood held. “So, what do you think?” Cynthia’s voice jolted me back to reality. “Gorgeous! I’m pretty sure you could wear a garbage bag tomorrow and everyone would still fall all over you though.” I smiled at her beauty. She was naturally radiant.

’ I fake a shudder. It’s not all lies. The dead vampires are true enough, but it’s the work of Chrys or his subordinates, rogue vampires murdered in a fashion that mimics the work of a Desecrant—the term we use for those vampires who commit sin beyond what the rest of us deem acceptable, those who don’t just stop at feeding from fellow vampires, but instead go so far as to consume their hearts. It allows them to amass a kind of power that is considered unholy even by us undead monsters of the night.

And if he chose to act the same way as her first lover, she would be broken again, hate him and ruin the memory. Or she would not like the person he truly was, and it would ruin the mystery he created. The piece of fabric would stop being so special, and the memory of him saving her would become disgusting to her. Or what if he was already fated to another female werewolf, or even having a Luna? She did not want another Luna to go through what Alpha Tony had done to her.

“Because I see the way you look at him. The longing in your eyes. I just want to give you the one thing you’ve always wanted.” My heart thudded in my chest. “How will you do that?” She stretched her hand forward, and a small glass bottle appeared in her palm. I stared at it, frowning. “This,” she said. “It’s not just any love potion. It’s ten times stronger. Designed especially for a Lycan. Their blood resists normal spells and potions, so I created this one just for him. One drop in his drink, and within twenty four hours, he’ll fall for you like never before.”

His girlfriend was also kidnapped, there at that time, she was right in the sacrificial circle, next to her mother among more than twenty victims who would be used in sacrifices in the name of an evil deity in the form of a huge chimera. In what looked like the combination of a Kraken and a lion, dragon tail, scales and black hair, meters tall, two heads, a snake, and a lion, among several monsters that would be summoned, they would serve as food. Due to their flight in search of help, they brought forward the sacrifice process, it would now be on the new moon not the full moon. A religious sect infiltrated the great city of Lovecraft, they were enemies of the order of Um-Mu, in addition to

And in the heart of the chaos, Lucian stood at the edge of a blackened lake, watching the reflection of the rising sun distort across the ripples. He’d shed his torn clothes, standing bare-chested in the chill air, his body covered in strange markings that pulsed faintly. The markings looked almost like veins of obsidian, spreading outward from his heart. When he looked into the water, it wasn’t his reflection staring back anymore—it was something older. Something ancient and hungry. “Soon,” he whispered, “she will see what love looks like when it’s stripped of mercy.” Behind him, a figure approached the only one brave enough to stand before him now. A woman cloaked in black, with eyes the c

“Wrath? Wrath-wrath? The destroy-first-ask-never Wrath?” Caius nodded. Greed muttered, “He doesn’t even love himself.” Tyrel, still clinging at Caius’s side, blinked in astonishment. “Wrath… loved someone? Wow, this is different from what the book says. You really are all different.” Lucifer’s grip on Allistair tightened; claws dented fabric. “Explain,” he said. Caius met his eyes without flinching. “He fell in love with Jophiel, the Seraph of Love. They were Life-Bound.”

He immediately reached down and took Darcy's headless body and an abomination stepped forward and handed him a large glass cup. Lihont took a sharp dagger and stabbed it deep into Darcy’s chest, right where her heart was. He held the glass cup under the wound and watched as the dark blood filled the cup to the brim. The blood was glowing with a faint light because of her connection to Corin and that was the reason Lihont chose to use her as his energy source. Once the cup was full, Lihont handed the bloody dagger back to one of the abominations. “The energy source is ready and may my Lord grace me with his presence. Humzwrita kreatior magdilopa!” Lihont held the glass of blood high towards t

"Forget the oath, Layla. Imagine the possibilities this opens for us.” I took the book in my hand, wiping away the dust that coated its worn leather cover, at the center lay a faded triangular symbol, the crest of the coven. Layla recoiled, howling a guttural growl. “You did not…” She wheezed in disbelief, but the obvious was as lucid as daylight. “Oh yes, I did.” I chuckled darkly, a cold, hungry expression settling on my face along with a predatory glint in my eye I never knew I was capable of.

"The third code is locked... to the guild's bloodline. If I give it to a Lycan who isn't registered... the vault self-destructs anyway..." Ivan sighed, setting the parchment down. He stood up, walking slowly toward the hanging merchant. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, glass vial containing a swirling, milky-white liquid—the Feral’s Kiss, a highly illegal neurotoxin derived from the nightshade of the southern swamps. In small doses, it caused agonizing pain; in large doses, it permanently shattered a Lycan or human’s cognitive mind, reducing them to a mindless, drooling husk.