Novel & Cerita Mystic Nine

Whether Vivian would come to regret it no longer mattered to me. After I completely gave up on her treatment, the nerves I had kept stretched tight finally loosened a little. After leaving the Grant estate, I was about to ask Vivian to return my passport and ID. All of my documents had been with her these past few years. As soon as I reached a corner by the street, a sharp pain exploded across my forehead. Hot blood gushed from the wound. Dizziness swept over me. Before I even understood what had happened, a group of people grabbed me, pulled me around, and started punching and kicking me.

The old woman's words hung in the air long after she said them. "The Bride of the Ninth Life has returned." Nobody moved. Not Kai, Not Draven, Not even the servant. The whole courtyard had turned to stone around me, and I stood in the middle of it, shaking, with no idea why a stranger kneeling on cold marble made me feel like the ground had opened under my feet. Ninth life?? What did that even mean? I looked at Kai. His jaw was tight enough to crack. I looked at Draven. For the first time since I'd met him, he wasn't smiling.

One of the nine lines engraved on its surface was broken. "The symbol is incomplete," Adrian whispered. "It has to be." She closed her hand around the coin. "If all nine lines are ever completed..." She stopped speaking. A deafening crash echoed from the mouth of the alley. The masked figures had arrived. Nine of them. Standing shoulder to shoulder beneath the streetlights. Rain ran down their white porcelain masks like tears. None of them moved. One of them stepped forward. He removed a small black envelope from his coat. Then, to Adrian's surprise, he placed it gently on the wet ground.

I was flogged a hundred times for making a laughingstock out of the future king. He has all the say in the palace, so I knew better than to cross him. Anyway, that was all the thing of a past now. I just have to wait a few more months and I will finally be able to spread my wings! My life-long dream of becoming the member of the Mystic Muses was about to reach fruition. Mystic Muses was a sect mostly comprised of female descendants of another minor deity, Lilith. They followed her ways and in order to honor her name, they only accepted maiden with the highest honor. In layman's term, only virgins were allowed.

“What’s the Nine Evil's Mansion?” Jasmine asked, curious about Jason’s alarmed expression. Jason stammered, “In mysticism arts, it’s a highly ominous sign!” “The Nine Evil's Mansion is formed by taking nine malevolent individuals and executing them by stabbing them until they die. Then, their flesh would be pieced together with bone nails. "After that, their body would be encased in concrete and sealed with mercury. They would then be buried at a specific place where the mountain’s shadow meets the water’s reflection on a full moon night.

And how could Seven betray me like this, after everything? Suddenly, I heard heavy footsteps approaching, accompanied by a familiar scent. Panic gripped me. I crawled back to where I had hidden the dagger, clutching it tightly in my hand. "Sir, no one is allowed to enter. The Alpha’s orders," I heard the guard say. "I’m the Alpha’s son and the future Alpha of this pack. Are you really going to deny me entry?" His voice was cold and authoritative.

The music hall smelled faintly of smoke and dust, the old wood groaning beneath every breath of wind through its cracked windows. Eliot stood frozen, the broken moonlight spilling across his skin, casting him in pale silver. He had no business being here. Theo’s voice still echoed in his head—Stay away from him. Damien will ruin you. And yet, here he was, heart racing, throat dry, caught in the place he swore he wouldn’t return to. Damien was waiting. Of course he was.

She raises her hands to cast a spell on them. “This will hide your scents from the wolves,” she says. “Don’t do anything stupid.” “If you lead us to a trap, I will kill you,” Damien threatens. It only makes Nine laugh. “Good luck with that,” she scoffs and haughtily walks off, leaving him dumbfounded. Damien scowls and motions his men to follow them. Nine slowly leads them to the tent where she spots the Black Jack members guarding it. She stops and motions everyone to duck.

Mystic squeezed Aaron’s hand. Her voice threaded into his mind: Let me. He inclined his head. She stepped forward, spine straight, chin lifted. “My name is Mystic Hayes — daughter of Helen and Dawson Hayes. I have not walked these lands since I was a child, but they are still my heritage.” She turned her forearm outward. A glowing tattoo shimmered beneath her skin — intricate, ancient, unmistakable. “I bring this mark as proof.” The head warrior slowly descended from his position and approached her, his boots echoing on stone. Aaron shifted instinctively — ready to move — but Mystic remained still.