Noctis Lucis Novels & Stories

Shutting the door behind me silently, I head through the entryway and into the living area he has set up right under a large floor-to-ceiling window. With it being dark outside, the room is bathed in a soft glow from a few candles lit on the table between the couch and matching loveseats. The candles have been burned down about halfway, the white wax dripping down onto the plates under them. How odd that he'd leave candles burning in here while down at the ball. Moving around the couch, I crouch and cup my hand around one of the flames and huff it out with a short breath. As I move to the next one, I hear a strange noise coming from somewhere behind me.

The incantation to muffle the sights and sounds around us does little good to stop the banshee’s screams. I grab his hands and chant with him. “Clausus sonare. Angustos lux. Hoc aspectu in domum custodire ab omni malo. Clausus sonare. Angustos lux. Hoc aspectu in domum custodire ab omni malo.”

Mikhail rolled his eyes at him, clearly unimpressed, while Viktor couldn’t resist a smirk, throwing a playful jab his way. “Rough night?” Viktor teased, a hint of mockery in his voice. Lucifer shot him a half-hearted glare. “Don’t start.” Spike, cut through the nonsense, cleared his throat, drawing their attention to the matter at hand. He placed the necklace on the table, the inscribed words *Nosce Hostem*—*Know Your Enemy* glinting under the room’s dim lights. He leaned forward, his gaze piercing as he began to speak.

Her pleasure was so intense that he could no longer hold back. With a guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt one last time and came. His cock throbbed hard inside her, shooting thick, hot jets of cum directly against Luna’s womb. He came with force, his entire body tensing, hips pressed tightly against her as he emptied every drop. Only when the last spasm of his orgasm ended did Lucian slowly pull out. His cock glistened with the mixed fluids of both of them. Completely naked, he walked over to the large window of the room. The light of the full moon bathed his sculpted body, highlighting the battle scars on his pale skin. He stopped there, with his back to her, staring out at the nig

But it was his eyes that had Rebecca’s hand locked firmly onto the hilt of her dagger. Lucian’s silver irises had bled into a blinding, solid white light, completely devoid of pupils, radiating a profound, cosmic power that illuminated the dark corners of the bedroom. He was staring straight ahead into nothingness, his breathing shallow and rhythmic, his entire anatomy acting as a living lightning rod for a psychic current that was vibrating through the stone floorboards.

I blinked, finally noticing the subtle swell beneath her silk blouse. Before my mother could respond no less than a dozen arms ripped their way through the torn flaps of this world. They were black and gnarled, tipped with long fingers that ended in claws that glimmered like shards of broken glass. Some were made of smoke that dripped to the floor like tar, rolling across the marble. “Control them, Morningstar!” Lucille spat; her face strained. Nova’s father grunted as though hit. Sweat beaded across his brow, trickling down his temple. His wife moved to his side, only to back off when he snarled in warning.

The night felt so quiet as Noah stood on the roof of the tallest building in the city center. Noah gazed at the lights below him without really focusing his gaze on anything in particular. The night breeze blew cold, rustling the long black coat he was wearing. Yet nothing could truly soothe the turmoil raging inside him right now. Noah’s hands still seemed to remember the strange sensation of holding Lilith’s wrist. Empty. There was no mark of his own left, only Lucas’s mark remained. Noah slowly closed his eyelids.

The lower sanctum of Sulvenis was suffused with a low, uneasy glow. Candles lined the stone walls, their flames trembling as if the shadows themselves had a heartbeat. Lucien lay upon a dais of ancient oak, his chest rising and falling shallowly beneath the effects of the venom that had coursed through his veins. His golden eyes, usually so bright and unyielding, were shuttered behind a veil of unconsciousness.

She was told, her whole life, that she was broken. A wolf who couldn't shift. A healer's helper with no voice of her own. Aurelia Vane learned to stay quiet, take up little space, never hope for more. Then the Lycan King rejects her in front of his entire court. Draeven Thorne never makes mistakes. But when his wolf claims the quiet healer as his fated mate, he panics — and humiliates her in front of every pack, calling her protection. The rejection doesn't break the bond. Instead, a black mark blooms beneath her collarbone. Her wolf wakes up for the first time. And Council leader Malric Drake goes still — because he knows exactly who she is: the last of the Noctari, a bloodline he perso

the voice in my head said again. Lumine diei noctis opacae. Ego te peto ut, si anima potest. Et hoc tibi do vitam, quae ad virtutem quia tu, placet, audias me cantum, et date mihi omne obtinuit. (Light of the day, darkness of the night. I will ask you to take, my soul if you might. This life I give you, for the power that you know, please hear my chant, and give me all you got.)