Lucio The Arcana Novels & Stories

"Master Lucien is the epitome of sin and seduction. Don't get caught in his trap, or you'll never have a chance to leave this place with your brother." His expression became slightly more serious. "That's a warning." Then he shrugged. "But if you end up loving him..." He smiled. "That's fine too." I didn't pay much attention to what he said. But his words stayed with me. I knew Lucien was dangerous. But there were still so many things I didn't understand. Everything here was hazy. Questionable. And full of secrets. Why me? Why had Lucien—the vampire devil—chosen to keep me here as his blood source? Of all the humans out there... Of all the women... Why me?

"That crest belongs to the Arcane Bloodline. They were the original protectors of this continent centuries ago, long before the Lycan High Council ever carved up the land into pack territories." My heart did a sudden, heavy flip in my chest. "The Arcane Bloodline? But... my father was just a low-ranking pack warrior. My mother was an omega." "Then one of them carried a dormant royal line," Cassian replied, stepping back toward me and taking the heavy training sword gently from my hands. He placed it back on the iron rack. "The High Council has spent generations convincing everyone that wild magic is corrupt and dark. They hunted down the Arcane families because they feared their power. Logan

Aria sat across from Maria with the vial now placed between them on the table like a loaded gun. “You disappeared for months,” Aria said. “No contact. No orders. You missed the Crimson Circle induction. You missed Zara’s funeral.” Maria’s voice cracked. “I didn’t miss her funeral. I delivered her killer to a jungle pit and lit the fire myself.” Silence. Then she slid a second object across the table — a thumb drive. “Encrypted proof,” she said. “Greco is feeding Luciana. But it goes deeper. He’s not working alone. There’s a handler. Vatican-born. Probably Umbra-adjacent. You’ll want the name.”

His hatred already consumed him as he was grieving from his shattered life. "I am Lucido." Luci shouted with rage, and fired his power to the Sage. It was already too late, he was already consumed by his own anger. He attacked the Sage and went to a rampage. He was no longer a human. He's already corrupted, a demon in a form of human. Merlin felt sadness as he was already to late to save this pitiful child. He had no other choice but to stop him, even if he needs to kill him. "Agni Spirit of the blazing fire, heed my command. Appear in my front, and destroy my enemy with your hands."

Needless to say, what happened between them also drew the attention of the young arcane practitioners. Lucinda's eyebrows were furrowed as she spoke, "Aria, you can't put two and two together. The evil being might've possessed someone else instead of him, but that doesn't mean he's clean. What on earth are you trying to achieve by getting this intimate with him?" She had always had zero tolerance for how the dejected sect handled matters. It was bad enough that every single arcane practitioner there wasn't serious about their arcane, but they also kept doing things that brought shame.

POV: Lucien Vale Lucien hadn’t slept since Luna’s vision. The Grove had pulsed in a rhythm he couldn’t decode, and the runes in the archives had begun shifting on their own. He traced them by candlelight, scrolls spread across the stone floor, ink bleeding into moss. The ley lines beneath the chamber trembled—not in warning, but in recognition. Something was surfacing. Not a prophecy. Not a memory. A name. And Lucien knew it didn’t belong to the past. It belonged to someone who hadn’t yet arrived.

Something afraid. "You found them," Lyra says quietly. "The bloodline records." "I was just looking," Lucian starts. "I wanted to understand what happened during the meditation." Lyra sets the candle down. Moves closer, studying the scrolls Lucian pulled. She picks up the journal, reading the notes about him. "Does Araya know you're down here?" Lyra's voice stays carefully neutral. "No. I found this place on my own." Lucian swallows hard. "Lyra, what am I? The scrolls say shadow-born, Lycan blood, mark of the heir. What does it all mean?"

His presence alone suffocated the air, heavy, inescapable, pressing down until every shallow breath felt stolen. “Little human,” he purred, his voice smooth as silk dragged across steel. Each step he took inside the archive was deliberate, his boots whispering against the stone floor. His smile was sharp enough to cut. “Or should I say… little secret?” Aria pressed back against the shelves, clutching the brittle scroll she had been reading as if parchment could shield her from him. Her knuckles whitened. “Stay away from me.” Lucien tilted his head, like a predator humoring prey. “Such fire,” he mused. “No wonder Kael hides you like a jewel in a locked chest. You shine even when you shake.”

“I’d rather you keep it… for your side.” There was a pause. A long one. And in it, a tremor. Then Icarus let out a slow, breathless chuckle. “This time, you’ll need it the most. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” They stepped closer. Their hands met in a handshake that felt more like the drumbeat of war. Her breath caught again. And then their gazes locked with each other. "Let’s decide," Luciano declared, “the fate—” And then—

I pictured those same tits in my hands, her body twisting and moaning while I slapped them until they bounced and turned red. “Mother, what is going on?” Darius asked, snapping me out of the filthy haze. “Haven’t you noticed something strange about your city Luna?” He frowned, glancing between me and his mother. “What is strange?” “She has no scent,” his mother said. “I noticed it yesterday. She is fooling you.” Darius turned to me, “I noticed that too, Lyra. Why don’t you have a scent?” Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.