Nightshade Forsaken Novels & Stories

“A boy died in front of me because I didn't know which crop to burn.” “He died because he failed to kill you,” I corrected. That night, sleep evaded her. I felt it through the bond as I paced the war chamber. She stood at her basin, scrubbing her hands again and again though no blood touched them. The images replayed in her mind—poisoned wine, the girl’s sobs, my face when I gave the order. Her distress clawed at me, feeding my storm. **** “The venom is Nightshade-root, prepared through a science chemical process,” Beta Thorne said, dropping an iron vial onto the war room table.

“She found traces in my bloodstream. It’s slowing the healing.” My stomach dropped. The memory slammed into me— Freya’s voice, cold and satisfied, as she raised the blade toward me. “This is laced with the Elixir of Varran and wolfsbane. Let’s see how you, and that special wolf of yours, survive this.” “She can’t.” Valentina’s sharp voice followed immediately. “They were infused together with dark magic.” My throat tightened as their voices echoed in my head, the cold realisation settling deep in my chest.

He never cared—not even when I was his fiancée. After that I avoided his places, his scent, his shadow. But now? I wasn’t his Luna-to-be. I wasn’t his anything. If I wanted to go somewhere, I would. No Alpha could stop me. At my nod, the girls smiled. Lipsticks clicked open. They weren’t creating someone new. They were bringing back the girl I was—before Caleb Grayson. I barely recognized the she-wolf in the mirror—strapless gown, smoky eyes, lips painted in a shade I had never dared wear.

Aurora Wildheart sat at the scarred oak table, her silver-blue eyes scanning a detailed map of Nightshade’s western territory, where the stone circle for their ‘rite of binding’ lay. The cloaked figure’s eerie familiarity, Mara’s chilling message, ‘The Nightshade calls for the chosen… it showed me your face, Aurora’ and the whisper in her mind ‘The chosen will fall’ wove a tapestry of dread, intertwining with Vincent’s unsettling message: Trust your instincts. Her forbidden bond with the vampire liaison was a quiet anchor, yet the mystery of her lost past - before The Emerald Forest Pack took her in at seven - gnawed at her, amplified by the runes’ resonance and Mikhail’s cryptic scrutiny.

The girl who came into view as I rounded the corner was unmistakably Haven, the same fiery spirit I remembered, with her wild red hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of flames, and her deep green eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. But it was her essence that shocked me to my core. The Haven I knew was a Necromancer, a wielder of dark magic. Yet, in this dreamwalk, she was something entirely different. She was a Forsaken, a being of shadow and darkness, forged from the very essence of the underworld. The Forsaken, an ancient and revered clan of old, were said to possess the extraordinary ability to wield absolute control over the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. The

returned from shadow-walks smelling of nothing absent, scrubbed from existence and only partially restored. I tore through the final shelf in the archive with desperate fingers, scrolls cascading to stone. My torch flickered, throwing wild shadows. Then I found it: ancient scrolls bound in flesh-string. The parchment crackled like dry leaves as I unfurled them, forgotten language spilling across the surface like dried blood. "Realm of the Forsaken," I whispered. A cursed dimension where guardian spirits who broke their oaths were cast, starved of light, sealed with sorrow. I hesitated briefly. What mother would not risk damnation to save her children?

I screamed into the darkness. "Seraphine, I need help!" She appeared instantly, materializing from the shadows like a ghost. Her eyes widened when she saw Viviana. "What happened?" "She said she was poisoned. By the vampire council. She said—" "Move aside." Seraphine pushed me back and pressed her fingers to Viviana's neck. Her expression darkened. "Nightshade poison." I froze. "Nightshade? But I thought—" "Not your Nightshade bloodline. The plant. Deadly nightshade, mixed with vampire blood and dark magic. It's one of the few things that can kill a pureblood vampire." She looked up at me. "This was meant to be a slow, agonizing death. Someone wanted her to suffer."

And the Forsaken Knelt. The shadows stilled. The whispers faded. And when Lyla lifted her gaze The door was open. But she was the one standing on the other side. And for the first time in history The Forsaken had an Alpha. And her name was Lyla Blackwood.

Fear. But today is different. Today, I’m dressed in silk instead of a white hospital gown. Today, my name is on a guest list I never thought I’d see again. The Luna Festival. My final obligation before I disappear for good. They say the goddess watches us on this night. I hope she sees me. I hope she knows… I tried. The Luna Festival is an annual celebration. A different pack hosts it each year, and tradition says no wolf can miss it more than seven times.

I quickly jumped up and without saying a word I snatched the first saddled stallion I could get to and took off in the direction of the previous camp site. I didn't know if anyone noticed my departure and I didn't care, if I had a chance at saving Draven I had to hurry. Nightshade was a ruthless tonic, literally burning up your body over a period of time, usually 6 hours or so. Being scalded from the inside out for six agonizing hours until you were dead.