The Arcana Asra Novels & Stories

But it was the light that blinded me. A searing, lunar white was erupting from her palm, a pillar of radiance so pure it felt like a physical weight against my eyes. Opposite her, the nightmare had ended in the most grotesque way. Laura lay slumped against the far wall, the obsidian fur of the Arcanum melting away, receding back into pale, shivering skin. But there, etched into the center of Laura's forehead, was a matching mark a silver crescent that pulsed with a dying, rhythmic glow, synchronized perfectly with the light in Lyra’s hand. The Lycanis Arcanum, the god of the hunt, hadn't just stopped. It had chosen. It had bowed.

LYSARA Jessica's hand suspends mid air and the entire environment goes silent. Students who have their phones up, taking videos instantly begin to put them away. I don't need to turn around to know who it is. Only one student in Arcadia has that type of power. Kareal Ashcroft.

And now, his presence was being felt again, his power resurfacing, his vengeance awakening. Finally, she contacted Marcus, a scholar of the arcane, a man who had dedicated his life to translating ancient languages and untangling the mysteries of forgotten civilizations. Marcus was Riana’s anchor to the past, her guide through the labyrinth of history and myth. He was a walking encyclopedia of arcane knowledge, his mind a vast repository of forgotten lore and esoteric wisdom. He could decipher ancient texts, interpret cryptic symbols, and unravel the secrets of long-lost cultures. Without Marcus, Riana would be adrift in a sea of ignorance, unable to navigate the treacherous currents of histo

I feel a slight panic rise in me, Aries catches it and snaps his head round to look at me as we enter the hall, I give him a tight smile and link our mate but am unable to get through. Azrid, can you reach Ersa? No, where is mate? "Sh!t, Aries, we have a problem." I say to him, his eyes instantly flash black as Arcane tries to take over. "Where is she?" He says through gritted teeth, I can tell he's trying to link her and to no avail, I try again too, Azrid is whimpering, tail between his legs in the back of my mind while Aries fights with Arcane to stay in control of his body still.

Within, a single scroll rested in a nest of velvet, its wax seal unbroken. Rowan’s hands trembled as he lifted it. “I didn’t look for it, Aria. It… called to me.” The seal was marked with a symbol that stole her breath: a double crescent curled around a spiral. The sigil of healer and warrior—joined. With a nod from Mira, Aria broke the seal. The parchment crackled as she unrolled it. The ink had faded, but each word pulsed as if alive—imbued with something more than time. She began to read aloud, her voice low and reverent:

Katherine stood in the center of it all. Her body had already shifted back, human again, fragile again. Blood dripped steadily from her palms, pooling in small dark circles on the blackened sand. Her eyes were still gold. She had always been mine, but what she turned into, was something I couldn't find myself claiming. Elder Veyra rose. “She is no longer merely Luna of Volkov,” he declared. “She is the Luna of Ashes. The key made flesh. The storm foretold in the oldest scrolls. I think she was reborn when the veil could no longer hold. An ancient being has returned to us, bound to the blood of two packs and the spirits that wait beyond the sky…”

Reincarnated, he possessed greater transcendent potential, now fused with this miraculous artifact. The Eye of Aslant, originally the Eye of Insight, was a sacred relic of the Aslant Civilization, a once high-tier Astral-level civilization. Its destruction during the war with the Fulgor Civilization had astonished all. “Who would have thought an artifact deemed indestructible could fail at the hands of a fragile one like me?” Logo mused wryly. Miraculous artifacts, born from the rules of the Astral Realm, carried immense, often incomprehensible powers—Time White Feather, Chaos Stele, Elemental Furnace, Death Note—renowned across the realm.

Different source. Tara does the initial resonance assessment with the healer's aura released in the Cedarfall meeting hall's back room, and what she finds confirms the hypothesis she has been building since the third folder: Sera's partial extraction is more recent than Sable's, the gap in her resonance architecture is less settled, less adapted-to, still carrying some of the rawness of a wound that has not yet fully metabolized into a scar. "When did it happen?" Tara asks.

He bends down and they embrace. "Narius!" I whisper urgently. He looks to me and I gesture to the pair. Axar has pulled Sera tightly into him and won't release her. Her beautiful ocean eyes become solid black as she hums lightly in response. "Shit! He's feeding her. She doesn't even realize what she's doing, but she is feeding. Feeding from his happiness?" Typically most incubi or sucubi, even cambions, are dark. Sera gravitates towards positive emotions. Axar smiles down at her. He's never had such care, or any semblance of love. He is an orphan, why I don't know, but I can tell by his thoughts and gratitude.

My eyelids try to close with all their might, but I resist and slowly manage to open them, although everything is blurry, I see that I am on the ground, lying. When I close and reopen them, Azael's face appears in front of me, watching me with a frown, with his piercings and his black shirt through which his tattoos peek out and spread across his neck. But when I blink again, there is no sign of him. As if it was part of my imagination.