Shackled The Lord Series Novels & Stories

It never happened, but someone finally fed them a live soul, which lent them the strength to emerge in a place like this without worries. To their surprise, someone was stupid enough to offer Landon as a sacrificial offering. They would never dare to have any funny ideas about him. Meanwhile, Divine Shackles recognized him for what he was and locked him up. He remained bound for seven to eight days, but he hadn't done anything out of sorts; instead, he behaved like an ordinary human. However, that was most certainly not the case. Landon might not have done anything, but that didn't mean the evil beings could do something to him.

I growl, shaking my head, “But dying at the hands of a Nati isn’t exactly on my bucket list.” He leans forward, “I’m not just any Nati, Mae, I am their lord.” Lord? So, the Nati do have a hierarchy, just as my father always suspected, he’d be so happy to know that he was right. Not that I will be able to tell him anytime soon. “That changes things.” I say, rubbing my hand down my face. Mihai frowns, seemingly confused, “How does it change things?” He asks. I shrug my shoulders, leaning back against the cool glass, “It means that I will have to kill you before I escape.” I say coldly, “Can’t have a vampire lord chasing me for the rest of my life.”

It was time to unleash their ultimate weapon. "Pack, now!" Lucas commanded, his voice resonating with authority. In response to their alpha's call, the pack members sprang into action, their movements fluid and coordinated. While the Shadow Lord was momentarily distracted by Amelia's attack, the pack seized the opportunity. They skillfully surrounded him, encircling the Shadow Lord with a united front. Fierce growls erupted from their throats, a symphony of defiance against the overwhelming darkness that plagued their world. As one, the pack launched their assault. Claws and fangs clashed against the Shadow Lord's shield, an intense battle waged between light and dark, hope and despair. The

Once done Maudie waved her hand over me again turning the screen off in a sense. "There's no way to know that shadow is Stefan." She argued. "The tree of life cannot see what is dead. The only species that are undead here are the vampires." Larminiel explained. "It could be any other vampire. There is no way to know for sure if that is Stefan." She argued again. "That's true." The shape shifter finally spoke. "What other vampire do you know that is a lord?" The dwarf asked, referencing Luke calling the shadow my lord many times.

"Dorian! Help!" A scream shattered the quiet dawn. Dorian and I had just stepped out of the castle, heading for the tower. Heaven's Needle. The desperate cry made Dorian freeze. "Cordelia?" He whipped around. A disheveled young vampire stumbled toward us. It was Myra, Cordelia's blood servant. "Your Highness! It’s bad! Lady Cordelia is losing it! Her bloodlust is out of control!" Myra cried. "She knows the Oath can't replace the Bond. She... she just snapped!"

"If we do not lock away The Shackled now, this entire continent will be an ocean of shadows before the next dawn." ​King Malakor nodded gravely, drawing a golden dagger from his belt. "Then let this contract bind us both. Half of my lifespan, as the first Lycan King of this continent, shall serve as the first chain." ​"And half of the power of my bloodline," Ysolde continued, "shall be the second. My descendants will bear the weight of this burden until one day, our blood matures enough to finish what we started this night." ​They sliced their palms, letting their blood drip together onto the altar’s carvings, which erupted in a blazing red light.

I had paid a fortune to the witch coven for this parchment. The ancient rule was absolute: a pact between a thrall and their master could only be broken by the master's own blood. Before he could even look at the parchment, his phone rang. Ophelia’s panicked crying came through the speaker. "Bastian! My castle’s wards are broken! A rival clan is attacking! I’m so scared!" Bastian tensed up instantly, pure concern in his eyes as he stood up. "Don’t panic. I’m on my way."

I burst into their apartment and came to a hard stop. In the living room, Cairh Moirant's family was seated amongst others and right there in the middle was Cairh, holding onto the hand of the beautiful redhead female next to him, Anya. My heart stopped. Anya? She was nearly pack royalty... her father was Beta to the recently deceased Pack Alpha. I stared at their entwined hands as I stepped forward, my chest hurting so much it felt like my heart was bleeding itself out of my body. "Cairh... what is going on?" My voice shook despite my resolve to remain strong.

And I was the last key. The vision shattered, leaving me gasping, my hand pressed to the cavern floor. The Shadow loomed above me, his expression unreadable but those gray eyes burned with triumph. “You see it now,” he whispered. “The truth you were never meant to know. The blood that runs in you carries my cage. Break it, and I am free. Strength beyond the gods. Fire beyond the stars. Yours to wield beside me.” Mirek thrashed in his chains, blood streaking his arms. “Don’t listen to him, Serena! He twists everything

“The Veil’s maker, the city’s lord. You’ve carried my shard, my lock, my spark. Now, bring it home.” The bond roared, Lucian’s hand on my arm, his voice fierce—“She’s not yours!”—but the Architect smiled, and the shards *moved*, not attacking but *weaving*, their claws forming a cage, not around us but the dagger, its light dimming, the mark pulsing faster, his voice pulling at me, not like her but deeper, older, promising truth. “I’m not your pawn,” I said, slashing the dagger at the cage, its light flaring, scattering the shards, but they reformed, faster, their hum deafening, the spiral glowing brighter, the throne closer, his eyes swallowing me.