Shaken To The Core Immortals Novels & Stories

I sighed, leaning my head against his shoulder. For a little while the only sound in the room was the crackling of the logs in the fireplace. Finally I said, "You know, there's one more thing about you - after all we've done together, I've never seen you as a wolf. You said you can change at will, right? Not just at the full moon." That last was a tease. Most immortals thought the Hollywood versions of our races were pretty funny. "Right."

She’s not a mommy’s girl nor a daddy’s girl. Askar Is a 17 year old who is Hindu and Immortal. Who cannot be destroyed. His Ancestors' religion is Hindu, which haunts him. He doesn’t quite fit well in his family. It all changes when he gets turned immortal by his human mom who births him.. His life flashes before his eyes seeing his mom die while birthing him will hunt him for all the years he shall live. Sooner than later he is a vampire trying to fit in with the humans. He isn’t like any other vampire, he doesn’t thrust for human blood. He is more disgusted with it, that each time his dad brought home some human for him to try, he would instantly puke it out. But what he really craves is a

“The Core’s power will rewrite every living demon’s code within the Nest. There will be no hunger. No love. No weakness. Only perfect predators will remain.” The Sanctum doors opened. Inside, the Core—resting in its massive crystalline chalice—began to pulse with oily black light. Vako had corrupted the source itself. “Sadira, don’t!” Jake shouted—but it was already too late. Sadira moved as if drawn by a magnet. The light around her body shifted from blue to deep violet. “It’s calling…” she whispered. “The Core is calling me home.” That was when Nathan burst into the chamber.

Vanessa stood frozen in the doorway of the suite. Her hair was wet from the rain outside. Her mascara had started to run. The phone in her hand, the phone with the photo of her and Marcus counting cash, was trembling like she was holding a live wire. "It is you," she whispered again. "You are supposed to be dead." Seraphina stood very still. Damien was between them. On his feet now, his whole body tense like he was about to intercept something coming fast.

“Burn it, and we might break the core. We need a plan.” Sylvara’s vines curl around the core’s base, her voice calm. “The core’s sentience is tied to your essence, Lena, but the shard’s corruption fights it. Aelys’s voice—she might cleanse it, but the Overveil’s will is strong.” Her aura weaves into the grass, bolstering our wards, her resolve a promise of unity.

Somewhere darker. A memory surged forward. Glass shattering. A window breaking. My voice screamed out, "Anthony, what are you doing?" but the sound was drowned by chaos. He stood with his back to me, shoulders tense, fists clenched, a man unraveling. Like a beast. I covered my ears, the sound ringing in my head. My heart pounded, rage igniting like a match struck too close to dry wood. My eyes filled with tears, but it wasn't sadness. It was betrayal. Boiling, blinding betrayal.

For an eternal moment, they froze, faces inches apart. Veda's cheeks flushed as Adyant's gaze locked onto hers, his eyes burning with an unspoken desire. The world around them melted away, leaving only the thrumming of their hearts. "Sorry," Veda whispered, her breath dancing across Adyant's lips. Adyant's voice was low, husky. "It's okay. No apologies needed.” Their lips nearly touched, the tension between them intensified. Suddenly, the sounds of laughter and shouting flooded back, breaking the spell of desire.

“Just… be quiet.” The shadows noticed. They turned as one. “Attachment detected,” one of them intoned. “Exploit approved.” They lunged. Rage snapped through me, sharp and blinding. Something broke. The city roared. Light exploded outward from me in a shockwave that cracked the stone walls and sent the shadows screaming backward. The listening core above the platform flared violently, its surface fracturing. Winter shielded his face. “She’s overloading the core!” “I don’t care!” I screamed. “Get away from him!”

"And the Core is perfectly stable. Because it’s anchored to you." He leaned down, his forehead resting gently against hers. The scent of rain, pine, and dominant Alpha enveloped her completely, drowning out the lingering terror of the Coliseum. "We declared war today, Little Wolf," Rhys whispered, his lips bare inches from hers. "In twelve days, Malakor is going to turn the Autumn Championship into a slaughterhouse. He will send every corrupted lineage and augmented beast he has into that octagon to rip this Core from my chest."

Now he was coming, the thought made her shudder with trepidation. It was rare for there to be any problems with prerogatives, and even in the event that there were, reapers were equipped to deal with them on their own. In the rare cases that problems occurred; it was usually just some soul refusing to move on and deciding to haunt the living. Those cases were called Spector protocols and more often than not, the reapers would just let the soul become ghosts.