Lyrics Arcadia Novels & Stories

He grumbled a little before muttering incoherent words beneath his breath, but I caught most of it. "...always frolicking... is that what all women without wolves do..." My body went rigid. The words had pierced right straight through me. I looked down at the man who had said it but couldn't make out his face in the darkness. Pulling away from beneath the shelter, I began to walk off. My feet dragged against the ground as tears welled up in my eyes. He is right. Why did Alaric even choose me? Why did he make me his Luna when I was this useless?

Ending (Alex): Mireya, you're my endless fight, In the darkness, you're my light. I heard echoes of shouting and whistling as I and Adam finished singing the song. I glanced at Adrian who was trying hard not to cry. Both of them clutched my hands in theirs as I looked at the arena of the crowd surrounding us. I took a deep breath calming my racing heart and the pain of not being with her is still evident in my heart.

_Aria's POV_ When I woke up the next morning, for a few seconds I forgot where I was. I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling above me and blinked several times. The bed beneath me was soft and warm sunlight poured through the large windows. Then everything came rushing back; the rejection, running away and the rogues. A sigh escaped my lips. I slowly sat up and pulled the blanket tighter around myself. The room was quiet. No one was banging on my door. No one was yelling my name. No one was demanding that I do chores before breakfast.

“I do.” It wasn’t dominance. It wasn’t arrogance or possession. It was something deeper. Something born from fear, devotion, and years of swallowing every emotion he was never allowed to speak aloud. Lyra cleared her throat softly from the doorway. “My lady… we need to leave.” Aric shot her a sharp glance, irritation, gratitude, and conflict tangled together inside it. Then his gaze returned to me, still burning fiercely. I stepped closer. Without thinking. Without hesitation. I lifted my hands and cradled his face gently.

“They looked like betrayal marks—the kind that comes from a mate’s infidelity. I saw enough to know. I wanted to be sure before I said anything.” I stared down at my hands. “Well,” I whispered, “I saw enough myself.” The rest of the ride passed in near silence, the steady rattle of the carriage the only sound. We arrived in Arcadia just after sunset, the city lights warm and golden against the evening sky. The inn’s carved wooden doors opened to reveal a cozy, inviting space, and we booked three spacious rooms with balconies overlooking blooming gardens.

Adrian’s deep, gravelly baritone murmured against her ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck, sending a violent, breathless shiver straight through her core. Lydia turned around in his arms, her eyes wide and dark with a fierce, sudden hunger as she looked up into his intense, possessive gaze. "Adrian, please," Lydia whispered, her hands coming up to grip his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into his hard muscles with a desperate force. "Make me forget. Just for tonight... make the world disappear." Adrian’s eyes darkened into a pitch-black abyss of pure, unrestrained desire. Without a word, he bent down, his massive hand snapping out to cup the back of her head, a

Maria The ride back felt shorter. Not because the distance had changed… but because something had. There was movement now. Direction. A thread we were finally starting to follow. At one point, I reached over and switched the music again. This time—**Lionel Richie**. Adriano groaned immediately. “Zia… do you know any artists after 2015?” I laughed. Actually laughed. “Good music doesn’t expire,” I told him lightly. But the laughter faded as quickly as it came. Reality always found its way back in. He told me about the conversation he overheard at the front desk. The break-in. The connections forming.

A day in the city might distract her from the tangled mess of feelings Nicolas had left behind. Indra was waiting by the main gate with a bright smile and a basket tucked under her arm. "You look lovely," she complimented, taking Seraphina’s hand. "Come. You need to see Arcadia with fresh eyes." They walked past the gates, down stone-paved roads lined with old trees and houses carved into hills. The kingdom opened up before them in bursts of colour and sound—traders calling out their wares, children laughing, musicians strumming strange stringed instruments.

"Take it all out on me. Every ounce of fear, every tear you've held back. I can take it, Aria. I want to." The words tumbled from Francesca's lips, husky and low, as she pulled Aria inside her dimly lit apartment, slamming the door shut behind them. The city lights filtered through gauzy curtains, casting golden stripes across their skin. But inside, it was a different storm…raw, electric, and urgent.

I dug my fingers into the grass, enjoying the cool green scent of my garden. Arcadia is a strange part of Above. It can be whatever you want it to be; a memory, a perfect representation of a real place, a surreal world of oil pastel and golden light... whatever you need. It can be affected by your mood, who you're with, what you ate... It's a blank canvas, but what it ends up presenting you is not always what you expected. So I sat on the gentle slope and stared at the old oak that had been a young oak when I was buried beneath it.