Mimic Knight Novels & Stories

Knight thought out loud with a frown, getting back to his track of thought, "I assume the goal was a scandal and therefore his reputation, but..." "I should have known..." Simon shook his head with a defeated sigh. "Known what?" Knight blinked in confusion. "That you are thinking about your little mate again!" Knight burst into laughter. "Why, are you jealous, cute little Simon?" Knight teased and got himself a flying wood. "I have a mate!" Simon rolled his eyes. He was one of the few that was allowed in Knight's little pack to have a family. Usually, Knight would try to find a pack for a member to settle in if they started a family.

I didn’t care for the moment; I had one spell in mind; In oblivione scissa. My eyes turned sharper and I was like with Lilith, aware of everything he did. The knights distanced themselves from us, letting me battle freely. As he attempted to slay my chest, I crouched and said the spell with my sword going to his heart. The spell did the trick but his sword already scratched my elbow before he returned to his senses. I fell down exhausted. Mimi was strong if she could stop something like this. I sighed in relief as he fell unconscious. “What did you do?” the Duke’s personal knight said.

My Alpha Of Knight. *************THE END************

The mimic turned toward us again. Liam and Aleksander blocked it, both of them swinging with everything they had. But the mimic didn’t fight like a person. It moved like a prediction. Every punch Liam threw, it dodged before the punch even came. Every time Aleksander grabbed for its arm, it bent its body at strange angles and slipped out like a shadow. Xves joined them then, his movements sharper, faster, more precise. But even he couldn’t fully catch it. It was like fighting a mirror that already knew your next move.

Instead, it is Migel who lays on the ground, unmoving, while blood pours from a large hole in his skull. “You!” I snarl, beginning to shit. “FUCKING BASTARD!” As I make to attack, an arm wraps around my throat and begins to pull me while I snap and writhe in an attempt to break free. ‘Let go!’ I hiss through mindlink. ‘I’m going to…’ ‘You’re not going to do anything,’ Knight snaps. ‘Migel knew what he was getting himself into when he agreed to help you. Now don’t let his sacrifice be for nothing! Stop fighting so we can get the hell out of here!’

“The mimic attacked me—it knew the inside of the wards!” Elias cursed. “Then it’s already—” A blade sliced through the air. Straight at Serena. She ducked—but not fast enough. Blood splashed her cheek. Elias shoved her aside, grabbing the attacker. Theron—but not really. The mimic. Its skin rippled, features flickering like candlelight in a storm. “Too late,” it rasped. Chaos erupted. Kael tackled the creature from behind. Caine blocked a second dagger flying toward Mira.

The knights are out but from the renovation it is obvious they would be back. Moving with my head hanging low and my hands folded I stumbled upon an iron surface, a ting of pain as I looked up , meeting with that of an emerald pair, the face void of a smile. Anakim, the one who seems to despise the sight of me. The iron surface, his knights' regalia. In a world filled with foes he has managed to top them all. He never hesitates to cast me the deadliest glares, he wasn't the most delighted to hear of the news of me becoming a Royal's closest maid servant.

What made him think I will be talking to them with mercy? Did we get lost in translation? Is this a communication barrier? Such a misunderstanding! And how could we have such a young knight?! this is child labor! "How old are you!?" I asked in a serious voice. The young knight straightened his back and answered like a well trained soldier. "Simon, son of Patra! Twelve years old, and currently a lowly knight, milady." I was more shocked. Not just because of his age but also because of his name! I heard that name from Mary! And I'm sure I can't be wrong because I remember it perfectly.

Every tree, every rock, every gust of wind seemed to whisper of dangers lurking just beyond the horizon. Lia’s wrist-mark had been flaring with more intensity over the past few days, the power within her growing stronger, and yet more volatile. The strange "Mirror Soul" ability—this gift, or curse—was becoming harder to control. Every time she replicated magic, it drained her energy, leaving her weak and vulnerable. But she couldn’t stop. The Heart of the Greykin was still out there, and it was the only hope for her people. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

And for two years, she had watched him look past her, his heart belonging to someone else. “Liam, cover left!” she called, snapping back to command as three knights closed in. Liam nodded briskly, ducking under a sweeping blade and countering with a fierce upward slash that sent one enemy flying. His motions were clean, practiced, almost mechanical. The Dark Knight commander stepped forward — a towering figure clad in blackened armor, his eyes completely black beneath his helmet “You are too late” he hissed, his voice a hollow rasp.