Lucio The Arcana Novels & Stories

Lucas didn’t turn to look at them, he just kept his eyes fixed on his bottle of wine. But most importantly, from the side of my eyes, I could hear Christopher Lorenzo's heavy, furious breath from the front row, and the snap of media cameras trying to capture my humiliation. My face burned with a terrible, hot shame. I stared at the side of Lucas's face, but his jaw was completely relaxed, his expression totally bored as he swirled the dark liquid inside the bottle. “Errr…” the priest adjusted his tiny glasses once again, “do you care to repeat that Mr Lucas Lorenzo?” He asked solemnly.

Dante obeyed without question. “Sorry pussies but I lied. Neither of you deserves to live” Luciano turned, his bloodlust rising. This wasn’t just about betrayal or the shipment. Sure those things were infuriating but something darker pulsed in him. A fire he hadn’t been able to control lately. Araceli had been the spark. Ever since she entered his home, something in him had twisted. Bent. Cracked. His need for her and his failure to control it had left him a ravenous beast hungry for any sort of release. He needed an outlet and the two dangling men would have to do...for now.

“Then you know what happens when the Muse turns her pen toward revenge.” He faltered. Elian handed over the encrypted device found on Luca. “Burner with triple-layer keys. I’m having Matteo start the decryption.” Seraphina stood and turned away. “Get him out of my sight.” Lucio sat on the window seat of the study later that night, arms wrapped around his knees. He looked up as Lucien entered. “Papa.” Lucien crossed the room and sat beside him. “Did they hurt you?” Lucio shook his head.

“Yes.” “So why the hell is Lucino going on alone? What is the actual plan when he gets in? To just shoot everyone he sees? With what? A silver bullet or a bullet laced with wolfsbane? Something that could hurt him too? What the fuck is that?” Aurora asked and Jace chuckled. “Lucino would not like it when he hears what you say about his plan. He thinks it is a great plan,” he said and Aurora scoffed. “I think it is a dumb plan,” she replied and he chuckled.

"The Holy Order already stirs. They will come with blades and fire. They will call you abomination. They will call you blasphemy." Lucian stepped between Elias and the Oracle, his sword half-drawn. "They’ll die before they touch him." The Oracle laughed—a dry, broken sound. "You will either be his sword... or his ruin, Lucian D'Arcy." Lucian flinched—an actual, physical recoil. "I would never hurt him," Lucian hissed. "Would you not?" the Oracle whispered. "When the power he carries grows beyond your control? When the darkness in him threatens to consume everything you love?"

“We offer you perfection. A reality without grief. Without chaos. Without pain. You will never lose again. No Eva taken. No Ari lost. Only harmony.” Lucian’s chest tightened at the name. Ari. His sister. Her laughter, her absence. They were pressing on his wounds, and they knew exactly where to push. Eva’s voice trembled. “They’ll show you her. Don’t listen.” And then he saw her. Ari. She appeared before him, eyes bright, smiling. “Lucian,” she whispered, “you don’t have to hurt anymore.” His throat closed. He wanted to reach for her. But deep down, he knew. This wasn’t Ari. It was a weapon.

In the center of the room, hovering above the pedestal, the Crimson Heart pulsed with an otherworldly light, its surface shimmering like a thousand shattered stars. Aria felt a surge of power within her, a tingling sensation that spread through her limbs, threatening to overwhelm her. Visions, fragments of past lives, flooded her mind - a whirlwind of images: herself as a warrior, a priestess, a queen, each life intertwined with Lucian's, each ending in tragedy. Lucian, sensing her distress, stepped closer, his eyes filled with concern. "Aria, focus on me. focus aria ." His voice was a lifeline, grounding her in the present. She clung to him, feeling the strength of their bond, the warmth of

Only the reflection of the sky, turning from gold to silver to black. One morning, Lucia woke him with a hand on his shoulder. “You need to see this,” she said, her voice trembling. On her laptop, a satellite feed showed the Pacific Ocean. In the center of its endless blue, light swirled—soft, deliberate spirals that moved against the current. Not random. Not natural. “She’s speaking,” Lucia whispered. “Through the Earth itself.” Alessandro stared at the screen, barely breathing. “What is she saying?” “That’s what I’m trying to decode,” Lucia said. “But look at this.” She zoomed in on the light pattern. The spirals formed a familiar shape—the Lion insignia—but inverted, glowing white instead

To have separate lives away from each other. "What does your friend looks like?" Lancelot asked. "Lucia is fifteen years old lady, bit shorter than me. Long straight black hair and has porcelain skin. She has big brown eyes, and she is very beautiful," I said. "Wait. What are those things?" Lancelot asked while pointing at the man-structured smokes hopping from one corner to another, searching. "That was done by my friend Lucia. She is a white snake summoner that is why she can produce men of white snake. She told them to go and search for his cousin. Remember Orion? The one I told you who just disappeared when there was a mist and a humming voice."

Rita The air in the hidden wing of the library was thick with the scent of aged parchment and something deeper—magic, old and restless. Rita trailed her fingers along the spines of the grimoires, each one humming under her touch like a sleeping beast. "This one," Derek murmured, pulling a heavy tome bound in cracked leather. "It’s been calling to you since we walked in." Rita took it, the moment her skin met the cover, a shudder ran through her.