Romancing Minthara Novels & Stories

She soaks for an hour while I’m sent to gather fresh herbs for her hair rinse: rosemary, nettle, and hibiscus. The greenhouse lies just beyond the low wall, and past that, the misty peaks of Montelune rise. Somewhere beyond them, the great capitals of Vaeloria and Hexeton glitter with royal courts, jeweled gowns, and golden halls, though I’ve never seen them. Lunemar is a small kingdom nestled in the valley, and I’ve never left it. Once, I asked Mireth what it was like to travel beyond the mountain passes. She laughed in that brittle way of hers and said, “Girls like you don’t cross mountains. They get swallowed by them.”

Nathan considered for a moment before offering, “I can learn it. It can be our secret language here. And when we wed, we’ll travel to Hanmin where the ocean is blue, and the fish is fresh.” Sarang laughed. “You hate fish.” “Just salmon.” Sarang’s eyes twinkled as he hummed in amusement. “There is a place in Hanmin,” he began, his voice taking on a wistful lilt. “The sunrise bathes it in gold, the vegetation is lush and vibrant, and the wind carries the scent of the sea. If you listen closely, you can hear spirits whispering through the trees. The ocean stretches out in endless blue, lapping at the shore of an island untouched by time, with fruits and creatures no one has discovered, and a mo

Nyxara awaited us in a chamber of mirrors, her form a perfect inversion of the goddess: raven-haired, eyes twin voids, lips curved in a smile that promised annihilation. *"Little Vessel,"* she crooned. *"You've brought me a gift."* Her gaze locked on my mark. *"The Anchor. How... delicious."* --- **EDEN'S POV** The fight was a blur. Nyxara moved through the mirrors, her touch unraveling spells. Mom's starlight clashed with her shadows, each collision spraying acid-bright sparks. Rhydian lunged, his mark flaring. Nyxara caught his throat, her fingers sinking into his skin. *"You taste of Thalassar,"* she purred. *"Let me *relieve* you of that burden."*

What a befitting title. It's her. Mina.

6 AMIR The streets of Mexico City stretched before me like a maze, but I knew every corner, every alley. This city was mine, and soon, she would be too. My feet carried me through the busy crowd, but my mind was back in that quiet little bookshop with her. Mariana. I hadn’t meant to approach her so soon. I’d planned to stay hidden in the shadows a little longer, to let the tension build. But when I saw her today, standing there with her soft eyes and gentle smile, I couldn’t resist. She was everything I had imagined—pure, innocent, untouched by the darkness I carried with me.

Bending, I pulled her up by the hair, making her face me and staring hatefully at her ugly eyes. "I don't know…" I shook my head. "I don't know what happened yesterday. I don't want to know, but you are not my mate! You, Rina," I stabbed a finger at her chest. "are not my mate. You are a maid. You are here to serve and follow orders. You are a puppet. A nobody. You are not my mate. I want you to take your cursed self out of my room and my life. Go back to the dumpster you came from."

He scoffed, cleaning his tears. Roshanay bent down and grabbed the roses thrown near her feet. The flowers were old. Lifeless. But she still smelled them. They were a sign of someone's love and she deeply respected that. She didn't know she had a secret lover in the past who died because of her and just to avenge on his death, his brother decided to throw her in the darkness of prostitution.

Despite the activity, Penelope felt usually alone and isolated, lost in her own thoughts. The door to her room opened, and a maid rushed in immediately, her long skirt sweeping as she hastily walked towards them, her footsteps bouncing off the numb edges of her brain. "The Alpha is already waiting in the council room. Be quick please." The feminine voice sounded right in the doorway of the bathroom. "Calm down Martha, you'll give yourself a nosebleed." Rose chimed In, a smug smile etched on the corner of her lips. She didn't look up before she knew who the voice belonged to.

Dom is quick to move, letting the rogues hit one another. Dazed, the wolves stand and shake their heads. This time Dom lunges. He lands on the larger of the two and sinks his teeth into his leg. The rogue howls in pain. Dom lets go, unable to stomach the trashy taste of blood. The other rogue pounces on him, dragging his claws across his chest. Blood oozes out over Dom’s midnight fur. The gray rogue hovers, snapping and clawing. He never relents, making it hard for Dom to regain control. Red fur comes flying through the trees, tackling the rogue. He never stood a chance against my red-headed beauty. She wraps her jaws around his throat, snapping them shut until she hears the bone break.

It turned without a word and began to follow the raven, which had already taken to the air, guiding the minion to its targets. Thana watched them depart, her laughter echoing long after they had vanished into the shadows. Her heart throbbed with anticipation, knowing that soon, Magnus and Alex would meet their doom, and Lara would be brought before her. The ritual she had planned would ensure her immortality, the precious blood of a hybrid wolf with vampire lineage being the final ingredient she needed.