Rashek Mistborn Novels & Stories

“What the hell was that?” I couldn’t answer. My throat was too tight, my chest too heavy. Because I understood. That hadn’t been a rescue. That had been a message. Theo had crossed into Damien’s territory. And Damien did not share. ----- End of Chapter Seven ✨

The moment I finished speaking, thick white fog swallowed the road in front of us. This was the Mistwood Forest. No Alpha dared trespass here because it was home to the most mysterious and dangerous person alive—Rowan Ashford, the shaman. Sure enough, the instant Thorne's car rushed toward the fog's edge, an invisible force stopped it cold. Countless mutated vines burst from the ground, wrapping around his wheels in seconds. If he dared take one more step forward, those vines would crush both him and his car into scrap metal. Our car passed through without any obstruction and finally stopped in front of a manor surrounded by massive ancient trees.

Ysara stood behind the white, swirling mist, her hand stretched in front of her as she started chanting. Her voice was angrier. Stronger. So fucking powerful, I screamed again when energy battled energy. Selene screamed as the mist slowly started disappearing. Ysara stood there, taller, bigger, whatever power behind her forcing her to stay where she was. But Ysara fought. I just sat there, scared shitless with tears pouring down my face. When the mist finally cleared, I collapsed back onto the bed, gasping, my body trembled uncontrollably as the room continued spinning around me.

He pursed his lips, and cursed under his breath, before closing the warrior's eyes. "Take him away. Ensure he gets a proper burial." Asher ordered, and the guards bowed, picking up the corpse, and carrying him away. "The blade." Asher demanded, and Joshua handed it to him. The slim and sharp surface was covered in drying blood, and the trace of wolfsbane was evident, as the blood took on a greenish, rotting tint. Nonetheless, the hilt is what truly caught the Alpha's attention. It was made of a clear crystal, with only a thin aluminum wire wrapping around it, creating an intricate design. The tip of the hilt itself held a red seal that resembled a bat's wing crossing a full moon.

I drank a shot of tequila. My thirteenth, if I had not lost count of the last three hours. I tapped my forehead and wiped away the sweat before commanding my senses to allow my claws to appear. I walked towards the lady in front of me, kneeling and clutching her fist to her chest, obviously in pain. I sighed as I watched her eyes form tears but she was holding it in, alright. She looked pitiful. “Natyaramona,” I called her name, pushing her back to her senses while hoping she wouldn't die.

With that statement, Aries hisses his agreement. Images begin to project on the wall behind her as she continues to speak. Which is weird considering she hasn't moved an inch. "Ironclad dragons. Phoenixes. Leviathans. Direwolves. Storm Gryphons. Moon Serpents. Flame Hounds. Cerberus'. Unicorns. Frost Lynxes. Kitsune. Ash Ravens. Nemean Lions." She says with confidence as the images change behind her head still without any movement. "And of course the many extinct or the now unwilling bonds that you will learn more about in your history classes." she says as the images flick again and my breath stalls.

The sunlight caught in the crimson liquid, and for a moment, I saw it as blood swirling in crystal. This was not just about a photo. It was about pressure. About creating cracks in their perfect façade until the whole structure came crashing down. I took a slow sip and stared out at the skyline. Somewhere across the city, Delilah was burning with humiliation, Jackson was calculating excuses, and Rosaline was scrambling to protect herself. Exactly as I wanted. They thought they had buried me. They thought they had erased me. I smiled into my glass. Let’s see how you survive the storm I have set loose.

in Romanian, painted in dripping crimson on black grip) vibrates in the truck bed like it recognizes home. Remy kills the engine. Remy (quiet): “Storm queen… you seeing this?” I’m already out, boots hitting warm sand, Hellebore Mist sheathed across my back singing its low, hungry note. Seras vaults the tailgate, armor flaring gold. Seras: “Either we drove into a fever dream, or someone built a supernatural X-Games arena in the middle of a lost city.” Kayo’s tails fan wide, tasting the air. Kayo (grinning):

The mist lashed out—an angry, living thing—just as Cassian threw a dagger, the blade piercing through the swirling darkness. The Rift-King staggered back. And suddenly—they could move. “Go!” Cassian shouted. Ronan grabbed Lena’s hand, and they ran. Behind them, the mist writhed in fury. But Lena could still feel it—the Rift inside her, waiting. Watching. And she knew. This wasn’t over. It had only just begun. The cavern walls trembled as Lena, Ronan, and Cassian sprinted through the twisting tunnels, their footsteps echoing against the ancient stone. The mist behind them churned violently, its whispers turning to furious shrieks.

The mountain ash resonated with the energies of the suns, and Morekish, drawing upon the knowledge gained from his journey, confronted the anomaly with a resolute spirit. The battle unfolded in a symphony of cosmic forces, the mountain ash serving as a conduit for the harmonious blend of mystical and cosmic energies. With Elara's guidance, Morekish emerged victorious, sealing the anomaly and preserving the delicate balance of the sun-kissed realm. Each triumph added a new thread to the cosmic tapestry, and Morekish began to understand the interconnected nature of all things. The realms he explored were not separate entities but intricate layers of a multidimensional existence. As they journe