Mykels Reverence Novels & Stories

His crown—once bone—was now fused into his skull, its branches pulsing with faint red veins. His eyes glowed the color of dying embers. He wasn’t alive. He wasn’t dead. He was something in between. Lyra’s mark throbbed, not in warning but in recognition—like two matching wounds seeing each other across a battlefield. Vale moved in front of her again, blade raised. “You don’t speak her name.” Magnus tilted his head, amused. “I don’t speak it, Vale. I claim it.” The revenants behind him—kneeling, trembling, bound by invisible chains—bowed deeper. Snow cracked beneath the weight of their obedience.

"Yes, Eleanor. I already signed the Itinerary not long ago. It's gonna be a huge scandal if you and Hestia will come back here in Greece early. I sighed in defeat. Then I heard King Atticus speaks. "Please take good care of my daughter Eleanor." King Atticus said achingly vulnerable. I close my eyes then replied, "You have my word Your Majesty, I'll take good care of Hestia." I said, then gently dropped a sweet kiss on top of Hestia's head. "Thank You, Eleanor. From the bottom of my heart Thank you." King Atticus said, grateful. Then he hangs up the call, and I put back my phone on the side table and savor Hestia's warm body against mine. I smile as she gently tightens her arms around my wai

In its place, his amber eyes burned with something far more dangerous, far more grounding. Absolute, profound respect. "I have stood in the war rooms of the high sovereigns. I have watched the warlords of the five territories command massive, bloodthirsty legions, Valeria," Kaelen rumbled, his deep gravelly voice carrying nothing but raw sincerity. "But I have never, in my entire life, seen a single wolf bring an entire heavily armed military division to its knees with nothing but her voice. I am... thoroughly fucking impressed." I didn't let my physical mask slip by even a fraction of a millimeter, keeping my face carved from absolute ice.

Sitting behind the heavy oak desk was the very male from the market, his copper spectacles catching the torchlight as he wore the fine velvet robes of a high scribe. Fenrick Vale looked up, his eyes widening slightly before a sharp grin spread across his face. "Look at you," the scribe murmured, rising from his seat to inspect Michaels' frame. "The capital alphas will tear each other apart for this." Michaels had changed into a fitted dark tunic that hugged his narrow waist, exposing the smooth skin of his throat where a mate mark should have been. "I am here to learn the terms," Michaels said, keeping his shoulders square and his voice steady like a true warrior's son. "Tell me about The Mo

More importantly, the powerful Sky-Soil Heptagold Sword Energy within Severin made Myles shiver. Faced with Myles's enthusiastic praise, Severin offered a humble smile and was about to express gratitude for the praise. However, Myles then said, "It seems you've mastered the Sky-Soil Heptagold Sword Energy in addition to reaching level nine supreme saint! This occasion is worthy of celebration!" Myles proclaimed she raised his hand. With a wave, a spiritual light that carried a strong medicinal fragrance materialized before him. " Myles announced, "I'm here to offer you this seventh-grade herb."

SEVEN I had my first nightmare that night, of me kneeling at the feet of the good Reverend Alistair McIlvian in that clearing while he reached to the heavens and prayed in a booming voice . . . . BOW DOWN BEFORE HIM, YE FALLEN ONES, SEEK SUPPLICATION AT THE DREAD FEET OF HE WHOSE CEASELESS ROARING ALWAYS AND FOREVER FILLS THE VOID BEYOND THE GATE, FILLS THE TIMELESS SKIES! HIS MIGHT TEARETH THE FOREST AND CRUSHETH THE CITIES, hear THEN HIS VOICE IN THE DARKNESS, ANSWER HIS CALL WITH THINE WHOLE HEART, OPEN YE HEARTS TO BE MADE OVER INTO HIS IMAGE, THE YELLOW KING OF YELLOW SKIES . . .

Giving Amya a quick kiss, I slowly made my way out of the mausoleum to find Gramps and an amused Armal waiting for me. "Haven’t you heard," I began fixing my gaze on Armal. "Snitches get stitches?" "I’m not going down alone." Armal countered. "You left me to deal with this bastard's wrath by myself while you lolligagged with your girlfriend." "You didn’t even give me enough time for that." "Too damn bad." "Could you two shut up?" Gramps huffed, "What exactly are you doing here, Mykel?" "I came to pay my respects to the goddess." I tried, though it was clear the old man wasn’t about to believe me.

The gesture is perfectly executed, every line of his body speaking of reverence and respect as he bows toward my throne. “Praise be Her Empress,” he murmurs, his voice carrying clearly through the vaulted space while maintaining an intimate quality that makes the words feel personal, meaningful. Gone is his usual drawl, the lazy indulgence that normally colors his speech. This is pure deference, sincere admiration wrapped in courtly ritual. I can see it in the set of his shoulders, hear it in the careful modulation of his tone—he's genuinely impressed by what he's witnessed. In all the chaos and resistance, the fact that Mykhol finds me worthy of such respect sends an unexpected warmth sprea

"To all of you." Everyone turned to him. The waves crashed in the background. "We've been through a lot. All of us. Together. We've faced monsters. We've faced fear. We've faced death. And we survived." "Because of you," Damian said. "Because of all of us." Julian looked at me. "Because of Elara. Because of Lily. Because of James. Because of everyone here. We survived because we had each other. We survived because we refused to give up."

"Paula, I want you to take me with you when your new life begins. I want to be part of your revenge.” “What?” "Just as you heard it, I want to be part of your revenge, I want us to be two against one because they, those people who are on your blacklist too, some of them owe me a debt. My name is Maximilian Montenegro or Maximilian Vital, as you prefer.”