Sandman Novels & Stories

Forbidden I repeat. It stares back at me, haunting, demeaning. Yet I cannot bring it in me to let it go. I will never kneel before a man, but why does this sketch speak otherwise? I throw my notepad into my box as if it burns, and zip the bag so quickly like anyone could come in any minute from now and see how far gone I have become.

The following night I returned to the Arcane Archives wearing a simple button-front dress that fell just below my knees — easier to remove, just as Elias had instructed. My body still hummed from the previous evening’s surrender, the faint marks from the silk bookmarks hidden beneath my sleeves like secret ink. Elias waited for me at the large oak reading table, the floating candle orbs casting a warm golden glow over the black shelves. He held a thick, leather-bound volume with ornate silver clasps. The title, embossed in deep crimson, read *The Bondage Codex: A Victorian Manual of Restraint and Ecstasy*.

He whispered against my ear. A shiver of excitement ran through me which immediately released my hold on him. “Good girl.” He whispered before kissing my neck. I drifted off to sleep before Damian returned. Small waves lapped against the sand as I stood watching them. The sound of wildlife around me filled my ears. The waves swooshed louder and became bigger. Quickly swishing passed my ankles and sent ice cold waves through me. I tried to back away but I was held in place. The sand was swallowing up my feet and holding me in place. I tried to thrash and pull my way out, but I couldn’t move. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. As soon as my eyes closed, the sand released me and the crash

He wants us to doubt the bridge. I only hear you, Audrey, Lucas replied. Your voice is the only thing that’s real. They reached the central chamber. It was a vast, hollow sphere of obsidian, suspended over a lake of liquid shadow. In the center, floating on a platform of bone, was Samantha. She was no longer recognizable as a woman. Her body had been stretched and elongated, her skin a translucent purple that showed the black ichor flowing through her veins. Above her, a massive, jagged rift was tearing open in the air—the Eye of the Sleeper.

Samantha leaned back against the pillows, exhaling slowly. A flicker, quick and sharp, flashed across her vision. A woman kneeling beneath a blood-red moon, eyes glowing silver, hands covered in dark ash. Samantha jerked forward, gripping the edge of the bed. The image vanished as quickly as it came. She swallowed, pressing her palm to her temple. “Not real,” she whispered to herself. “Just my imagination.” But the certainty wasn’t there. Trying to ground herself, she flipped to another page filled with sketches: wolves mid-shift, old territory maps, symbols she didn’t recognize. Her breathing steadied, though a faint tremor still lingered in her fingers.

The voice echoed again through the ancient hollow, rumbling like a forgotten thunder: “We did not take your vision, child.” Samantha’s breath caught in her throat. The tears that had stained her cheeks froze in place as a strange warmth coursed through her chest. She blinked rapidly, still surrounded by suffocating darkness, but somehow it no longer felt like blindness—it felt like… a waiting. “A-Am I dreaming?” she whispered, trembling. “Why can’t I see then, ancient spirits? Why is it so dark?”

The mark of the Sanctum’s border. From the crest of a hill, the horizon unfurled before them — and there, piercing the cloud-streaked sky, rose the spires of the Sanctum. Golden. Blinding. Beautiful in the way venom glitters before it kills. Soren stopped beside a stream and knelt. The water ran clear and cold, reflecting a sky split between dawn and storm. He cupped it, splashed his face, and looked down. The reflection staring back wasn’t entirely his own.

He surges forward, teeth bared, and slams his palm against Lucious’s chest. A shockwave detonates. Light and shadow explode. And the sanctum collapses. The world goes white. Not gold. Not black. White—blinding, endless, swallowing everything in silence. For one breathless second, I think I’ve died. But then— The ground steadies. The light fades. The ringing in my ears gives way to the sound of water—soft, rhythmic, like waves against a distant shore. And when I open my eyes— The sanctum is gone.

I was still holding my arm in front of Aerian while staring these two down. While it did make sense how Anselm was able to teleport to where we are I still did not like the idea of someone being able to bypass my guards. My dark Luna was not showing any anxiety of fear through our bond so that made me calm down slightly. I will admit there was no questioning that Anselm and Aerian were siblings. Hell, Anselm was a carbon copy of Fredrik. Then again, I knew that her father had looked just like Fredrik as well. I was still accessing these two when I heard Aerian say the second guy's name.

"No more arguing. You're ruining the energy of our sanctuary. Our mediums cannot concentrate in such an environment." "My apologies." The douchey dude's whole demeanor changed, as he gave Helena an award-winning smile. "We didn't mean to interrupt your activities. But I do hope one of your mediums has time for me. I have some very important business to take care of." I didn't fail to notice how he brought his arm forward, lightly touching Helena's arm. Goddamn manipulator.