The Darkest Destiny Novels & Stories

The world itself was dimming. The memory hit me with a cold, familiar weight. I had seen this before. During the war with Volodymir. When he had bent the heavens to his will and stolen the sun from the sky, cloaking the world in false night so his Strigoi could rise and slaughter us without fear. That same unnatural darkness was upon us now. Was it possible? Had Dragomir already awakened Volodymir? Or was Dragomir himself capable of this ancient sorcery, this theft of the sun?

“It's not like that. It's not something you can get rid of. It's part of me; it's my other half. It's who and what I am. Don’t you see, I am the darkness! To get rid of it would be to get rid of me. I'm no good for you. I will only cause you pain and suffering. I am the darkness! I'm the monster everyone's afraid of. I'm the beast in the dark that children have nightmares of. I am the evil from the depths of hell and will only snuff out your light, little angel. You and I can never be together!” He said with a deep and rough voice. Smoke seeped from his body again, and a dark aura rose from his body like a shadow looming over her.

I push away from him and adjust my hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean it. I wanted to talk a little longer" he smiles apologetically. "Its fine" I say "Thank you" I smile at him. "So what do you want to talk about?" I ask "Maybe our darkest memories" he suggests. "Why?" I knit my eyebrows "We aren't close enough" "That's the point. We can pour out our emotions and we wouldn't even meet each other in a couple of days" he explains.

It gotten so far that have to fight with the pain that have to endure with its unbearing jab of pins that will repeatedly het him losing his control with a 50-50 lifeline if he tries. He cosed his eyes tightly and sighed after he decided to do it for his last week. Destino have to focus with his first mission, it is for stopping Frando of what he was planning to do—taking over the Crestile after he vanished for more decades. He glared one last time after folding the letter back to itself and inrested it under the small treasure chest that he have place at the left side corner of his closet.

I felt light headed and the earth began to spin. Darkness clouded my vision and the last thing I saw was the moon up in the sky as red as blood. ***

“Why do you ask?" "There is a legend of a lyceum, he is called Night Terror, and now we think he is going by The Howling One. He is the oldest of the lyceums, and it has been said he was the first. Remember the story I was telling you? It is said he lives in a shadow realm, somewhere between the light and the dark. We call it the twilight world, although this realm is forbidden to all wolfin." "What does this have to do with me?" She asked looking over the manicured lawn.

anything. But the darkness yields nothing. It remains stubbornly silent, stubbornly empty. Despair threatens to engulf me again, a cold, suffocating wave that threatens to drown my spirit. But I refuse to succumb. I refuse to let the darkness win. I am Christopher, and I am a survivor. I will not be broken. I will not be defeated. I will find a way out of this hellhole. And when I do, I will make them pay. The darkness may be my prison, but it will not be my grave. I will emerge from this darkness stronger, more determined, more ruthless than ever before.

No clear instructions were available—just line after line of code confirming the finality of either choice. One line in particular stood out, written in bold caps: // IF THEY COME FOR YOU, GIVE THEM FIRE OR DARKNESS. NOT BOTH. Isabella’s hands shook. She thought of her mother’s voice, fractured but unwavering: “I was here. I am real. Don’t let them tell you otherwise.” The words echoed through her mind as her heart pounded in her chest. She had to make a decision. But how? If she wiped everything, the Society’s victims would vanish—no evidence, no justice. If she leaked it, innocent survivors would be exposed, their trauma turned into spectacle, their privacy violated.

"But you're too dangerous to leave alive. You might actually find a way to interfere. Better to eliminate you now." He raised his hands, dark energy coalescing into a spear of shadow. "Your brother dies first. Then you. Then I deliver the Luna to her destiny. Malachar rises. And the age of wolves ends." The shadow spear formed fully, humming with deadly power. Thaddeus drew back his arm, preparing to throw. Then Darius's eyes snapped open. They glowed with unnatural light. Not the golden amber of a wolf. Not even the red of demon influence. Pure, absolute black. Like staring into the void itself.

"They were necessary sacrifices to make sure I survived! I am the identity! I am the purpose!" "You're the shadow!" I slammed her head against the white floor, the concrete cracking beneath us. "I am the one who loved the Alpha! I am the one who carries the future! You want the 'Extinction' back? Come and take it from the teeth!" As our souls clashed in the center of the courtyard, the white light of the sky began to bleed. Not silver, not violet—but a deep, rich Obsidian-Red. Through the fracture we had torn in the compiler, a shadow began to rise. It wasn't a ship. It wasn't a drone.