Sacred Games Novels & Stories

Adriano says jerking me from my thoughts. "Truce" I agree, lying to his face. Smiling, I offer him my hand. Sorry Babe I think as I help him up from the floor, I made a deal with the devil and it's your soul that he wants.................. [Song: Black widow - Iggy Azalea feat. Rita Ora]

But he had a heart of gold, he was probably the only boy I would let near my sister, ever. And that was saying a lot. “How is he?” I mused absentmindedly picking at my wilted chicken sandwich. “He’s great, he’s right here actually let me call him over,” before I could tell her not to worry because I didn’t want to disturb him. Another thing about Hiro was he was always working, always. He had a dream of starting his own game development company, and I knew he would make it one day. There was shuffling on the other side of the phone, “HIRO!”

“God, I hate you so… fucking much.” “I’m well aware. I had to read that… over and over again… and yet, that's not what your body told me when I touched you…” Troy raises her hand to slap him, but he catches it lightning fast. “Look, it's all good. I'm not holding grudges,” Dorian murmurs, his face inches from hers. “In fact, we could still play this game.” “What game?” “The one where you try to make me fall for you. I might actually enjoy this.”

The First Seal cracked wider, and through it came not just shadows but light – terrible, burning light from the Flame Realm, winter's frozen breath, the growing things of the Green Realm, all bleeding together. "Six centimeters dilated," Volkov announced clinically. "The birth approaches." I looked at the chaos around us – Dimitri half-feral, James desperately maintaining barriers, Sarah flickering between dimensions, shadows and light warring in our own realm. My child would be born into this. Unless I changed the game entirely. "Sarah," I said. "Bridge us to the Sanctum. All of us." "But your mother—" "Isn't there. But the Sanctum itself is. The first sacred ground. Where the moon goddess

he said, and suddenly the air felt strange. Everyone around me started whispering, turning to each other with wide eyes and open mouths. I froze. The Mate Games. I’ve heard stories, like everyone else. Old tales. Fables meant for children. Girls pulled from villages to compete for the hand of a royal heir. Magic and power and fate all tangled into one big, unbelievable mess. But that’s all they were. Stories. Until now. “They say the heir has the rarest kind of wolf,” a woman beside me whispered to her friend. “Unbound. Untouched by bond. Free.”

I'm in my study at home, surrounded by piles of papers and files, each one more damning than the last. My father's old desk is barely visible beneath the stacks of documents I've accumulated over the past few weeks. Papers with names, dates, and transactions—every sordid detail of my family's legacy laid bare. And it's all connected to the Conti brothers. How did we get here? I think as I take a swig from the glass of whiskey in my hand, letting the burn steady me.

The Spartan's quiet hum became a roar as its nuclear reactor hit full power. The entire hangar was bathed in red as its cameras started up, giving me a look at the Goliath I'd expected. The Goliath's pilot clearly hadn't anticipated me to be inside the mech, as the brown mech was busy methodically stomping apart row after row of computers. The hangar bay was large, but not large enough that it missed the massive motion that was the Spartan jerking to life. It rotated toward me, plasma cannons blazing with unreleased energy.

“We have defended each other in mind and body. But we have never marked this bond fully.” Derek’s eyes darkened slightly, not with aggression but with understanding. “You want the sacred claim.” “Yes.” Jax studied her carefully. “You understand what that means.” “I do,” she replied. “It is not political. It is not for the pack. It is for us.” The sacred claim was older than crowns and councils. It was not performed in front of witnesses. It was not recorded in law. It was a ritual of consent and power, of acknowledging that the bond between them was not temporary alignment but chosen permanence.

"You don't think Jayden would have thought about that? Besides, I'm sure your mother's house would be considered sacred ground, especially if you move back in with them, and isn't sacred ground supposed to keep the bad guys away?" Buttercup nodded slowly, thinking it through. People who were steeped in the Way usually made their homes and businesses sacred ground, causing a sort of protection to cover it, keeping the Unseelie from being able to attack them on the property. If a creature from the Nether stepped foot on sacred ground, they would burst into flames and be reduced to a pile of ash. It was the reason no one could attack Rhychard at his condo. It was also why the demon Vargas had t

The Chaos Sacred Art was the unparalleled secret art of the Doom Race and one of the most distinguished in the history of the Greater Realms. James took a deep breath. In the end, he could not resist the temptation to open the Chaos Sacred Art. Upon opening it, a golden light radiated, gathering before James and forming rows of mysterious, ancient characters. These characters were some of the most ancient of the Doom Race. They were the Chaos Script—one of the core scripts in the Greater Realm. The Greater Realms were situated inside the Chaos. Meanwhile, the strongest being inside the Greater Realms were not the living beings but the Chaos Heavenly Path.