Oblivion Fingers Of The Mountain Part 2 Novels & Stories

POV: LIORA The colossal hand gripping the edges of the shattered prison tightened with terrifying strength, sending fractures racing through the ancient stone like lightning splitting the night sky. Every crack released another torrent of crimson mist that swallowed the Heart Chamber in an eerie haze, turning the silver glow of the Moonstone into little more than a distant beacon struggling against an endless tide of darkness. The entire mountain groaned beneath the strain, and the ground trembled so violently that broken pillars collapsed into the abyss surrounding the ancient sanctuary.

The ogrism was now panting heavily, with range, it lifts the sword in the air swings it to slash him, poor Abednego, this is an evil forest, Igodo. He opens his faint eyes, looks at the sword that is now close up above him, he closes his eyes as he bids the sky above farewell. Silence closes on him followed by a loud thud. A voice is heard, he opens his eyes ones more, looks up in the sky to where he had seen the sword swaying above him, death beckoning him. There was no one, but there it was, the ogrism. It has fallen down beside him with a loud thud, its head splattered on the ground. Whatever that had happened, heaven knows better. All he knows is that he was still alive, the breath of li

"Cleaner this way. Less pain." He pricked each of their fingers quick and careful. Two small drops of blood welled up. The twins pressed their fingers to the necklace at the same time. For a second, nothing happened. Then the claw started glowing. Soft at first. Then brighter. Brighter. Until it was almost blinding. Lines of light spread from the claw across the leather cord. Forming patterns. Shapes. A map. "There." Lila was staring at the map like it was salvation. "That's Black Moon's hideout. And that," She pointed at the second location, and her face went white. "That's impossible."

The floor and walls were covered with the marks of my struggle. The moment our eyes met, Ean staggered and dropped to his knees in front of me with a thud. He reached out, trembling, wanting to touch me but hesitated. "No, this isn't her. It can't be!" He gasped. "The freezer is abandoned. How could she be frozen stiff?" he said, desperately trying to make sense of it. "We need the surveillance footage. We need to find out what really happened!" he demanded, his voice cracking. He turned his head and saw the bloody handprints on the wall. He stood up, moved to the wall, touched it, and then looked back at me in the corner. My hands were frozen stiff, but still bloody and mangled. All ten of

The lead assassin closed his gloved hand around the smoking wooden doll, snuffing out the thin black trail. The four dark figures melted into the thick mountain fog like liquid shadows, moving across the white snow without making a sound. They did not march down the main roads or approach the front gates. The Obsidian Vanguard knew the hidden, forgotten paths of the ancient mountains. They scrambled up the sheer stone cliffs behind the Citadel, using long iron claws strapped to their hands and boots to dig into the icy rock face.

A/N :- The 'Flames of Obsessiveness second series' consists of 10 books, including three stand-alone novels. You can explore my profile for the three Stand-Alone books from the second series. This second series continues the stories of the children of the Kashyap, Grey, Miller, Rathore, and Khanna from the 'Waves of Possessiveness first series'. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •Book 1) His BLIND REVENGE Tropes :-

The kind of silence that pressed down on the chest, the kind that came before storms, or battles, or change so irreversible it marked a lifetime in two. Evelyn stood by the window of the old stone room, her fingers tracing over the frost-flecked glass. Outside, the world was pale and restless. The mountains loomed like crouching beasts, their peaks clawing at a sky bruised with silver-grey clouds. Somewhere beyond them lay Moonsblood, a place whispered about in the stories of both the living and the dead. A place where bloodlines were tested, where oaths broke or solidified, where nothing emerged untouched.

She looked around and saw no one. Instead she came face to face to the street view. She held onto the bannister and lazily leaned on them as she gazed at the dark silhouettes in the night. Their apartment building is located in a secluded part of their town and on the far front is the Alterax woods. The trees lined up in front with some infested with fireflies making them look shimmering.

But they had a leader who had just broken the Coven’s strongest spell. As we began the long, dangerous march toward the Obsidian Mountain, I felt the pulse in my chest grow a fraction stronger. I'm coming, Kaelen, I thought, the crimson thread of the bond humming with anticipation. Hold your breath. The world is about to burn. Deep beneath the mountain, in a pocket of air no larger than a coffin, a hand moved. Kaelen’s fingers, stripped of skin and caked in dried blood, clawed at a slab of obsidian. His lungs were screaming, his ribs were crushed, and his wolf was whimpering in the dark.

A vision began to form, not in my mind’s eye, but in the air above the grimoire, woven from silver light and shadow. I saw a mountain, not of rock, but of black, obsidian glass, under a perpetual, starless twilight. A citadel was carved into its heart, a place of terrifying, angular beauty. At its center, in a vault sealed with bonds of moonlight and thorn, a form of swirling shadow and silver raged in silence. The prison of Morvana. But the vision didn’t stop there. It pulled back, showing the land around the obsidian mountain. A dead forest of petrified trees. A skyline I recognized—the jagged, distant peaks of our own world’s northern mountain range. The prison wasn’t in some other dimens