Shadow Amnesia Novels & Stories

He adjusted the leather belt of his armor, his golden eyes tracking the way I kept my head down, my cheeks burning with a deep, permanent embarrassment as I fixed the torn linen of my trousers. "He won't remember," Aiden rumbled coldly, his voice entirely stripped of any form of warmth as he walked back to the stone hearth. "The recovery potion he drank forces the mind into a localized state of amnesia during the first three hours. He saw a shadow, nothing more." I didn't answer him. I couldn't. The emotional confusion in my chest was too heavy, a mixture of shame, pleasure, and lingering anger twisting my stomach into knots. I wiped my hands against my uniform, my boots heavy as I moved tow

By the time I was released, dawn was breaking over Manhattan. I drove to Lily's apartment, needing somewhere to collapse that was not connected to Declan or his life. She opened the door in pajamas, took one look at my face, and pulled me inside. "I saw the news. About Camilla and the shooting and Declan being arrested again." She guided me to the couch. "Are you okay?" "No. I do not think I will ever be okay again." "What happened?" I told her everything. About Elena's confession, about Camilla's ambush, about the missing women whose faces now haunted me.

I asked, pulling her into a tight hug. "Good to see you too, Elena; there's no need to ask about that anymore. I am back now, that's the issue," Amelia said, patting my cheeks. "Kessler will be so happy to see you. We have been searching all over the city for you after you disappeared all of a sudden," I said. "I'm sorry for disappearing. I can't even remember how I got to leave the pack house in the first place," Amelia said. I'm so happy that Amelia is back; what makes me happier is the fact that she does not remember anything about what happened to her.

"He was a predictable, short-sighted obstacle driven by vanity and fear. You can bargain with fear, Liam. You can manipulate vanity. The Shadow is different. It doesn't operate on political logic, territorial ambition or economic leverage. It is an apex hunter tracking a specific frequency." With a swift swipe of her thumb, she activated the sync-pad. A translucent blue holographic map of the high northern ridges bloomed into life above the scarred oak table, casting a cool azure glow over their faces. Several tracking nodes along the outer perimeter were blinking with erratic fading gray signals. Liam leaned over the map, his massive frame effectively blocking the ambient chill of the room

I’m not anyone, I’m Aaliyah, assassin of the Italian mafia known as Shadow of death. There is no stopping me when I start. Every single last target had to die was my motto. If you didn’t plan to die any time soon then don’t approach me. But I had to restrain myself from killing the last one because I knew Dominic probably wanted to question him so I only knocked him out. I was back to normal and I turned my attention back to the people who were standing a few feet away from all of this that had just happened.

Then I woke up. I bolted upright, my chest heaving as though I had been drowning. My shadow stretched long across the room, grotesque in the dim light. For a moment, I thought I was not alone. My hands trembled as I pressed them against my face, trying to shake the image of Ara’s lifeless form from my mind. It was futile, I knew that.

Shadow's POV I didn't realize my hands were bleeding so badly. Blood oozed out from my knuckles. They were completely swollen and bruised, but I didn't feel a thing. Im completely numb. I've been punching the punching bag Ferro put in my room for hours now. How could this happen? Why does the Moon Goddess hate me so much? My life is a waste, and the hope I had of escaping this horrible place and leaving it behind faded as reality rained down on me.

He looked every bit the model patient—polite, composed, and harmless. Uriah narrowed his eyes. Those sharp, experienced eyes studied the young man with the scrutiny of someone who'd seen too much. Thomas sat quietly, letting the scrutiny wash over him. He wore a faint smile, his expression calm and untroubled. Finally, Uriah shifted his gaze. Amnesia wasn't something that could be diagnosed easily. "I'm afraid I can't help with his memory loss," he said at last. Sharon had anticipated this outcome and wasn't overly disappointed. She'd only been hoping for a miracle.

Lucky there’s nothing deep needing stitches. In my grieving and broken state, I begin to feel faint. I let myself go and pass out. Opening my eyes I feel myself transported into another realm. Standing in front of me is my grandmother’s house which stands in front of a looming property which I dare not go near. The “LeFleur” mansion. A place said to belong to my ancestors from centuries ago. A place that continues to haunt my dreams since a child. Something about this place calls to my soul, it pulls me and begs me to return. The house stands in the Normandy countryside. She feels it in the wind and air, she feels it in the depths of the earth, it’s as if a spirit like a piece of me is locke

“Wearing your shadow is no longer tolerated. It requires a lot of energy and concentration whole throughout the day; even in your sleep, you are in need to let go an amount of energy to keep the shadow in your body and hope that it won’t betray you and tear you apart.” “What… what h-happens when you c-can’t take such a training?” “Death, of course; what else is there to choose from?” said Kleint, cocking his head. He was already sitting next to Blame, smiling rather sheepishly. Marjorie gasped. “N-Now I u-understand.” She looked at Blame. “You have an obsidian shadow, too?” Although Blame wanted to say a thing, she couldn’t hope to do so without raising much suspicion. They’re already suspic