The Descendants Mal Novels & Stories

I just finished reading the last book when I started to write Descent for real! The title when this was still a draft was actually ‘Can’t Help Falling (In Love With You)’ because I was listening to the same song only the dark version at the time. But I got annoyed because I felt it was too freaking long to be a title. For a time, I settled calling the story "Fall from Grace" in my head but it still felt wrong... so when I searched for a synonym, the meaning of the word descent.. clicked; it feels like it perfectly sums up the entire plot.

"Left me behind. Cast me out. Said I was too dark. Too violent. Too consumed by ambition." "So you became exactly what she feared," I said. Malachar laughed. The sound was cold. "Yes. If she wanted mercy, I gave the world cruelty. If she wanted peace, I brought war. And if she wanted her bloodline to continue, I swore to end it." He stopped a few feet away from us. The magical energy around him was suffocating. "For a thousand years, I've hunted her descendants," Malachar said. "Killed them one by one. Some were strong. Some were weak. But all of them died."

There was no mark here and she had no way of knowing if she was looking at exactly what Lyra had been looking at. The pages became darker and darker as she scrolled but then she stopped. Something had caught her attention. A name, Baldwin. She had heard of it so many times, now seeing it again, it rang a bell she wasn't sure what it meant. It had been listed as one of the descendants of the crown. It was strange to see any other name and now this. She was sure the name had been spoken about several times. And yet she had zero idea they were descendants. None of their relatives were close and she knew it was owed to Alpha Caden, the man couldn't have control if they weren't his offspring.

The wind had gone completely still. I didn’t even realize I’d stopped breathing properly until my chest started to ache. “And before you misunderstand yourself further,” she added, “I’m not something your kind gets to finish.” Malachar gave a short, humorless exhale. “So that’s your answer,” he said. “Untouchable.” Medina didn’t respond right away. When she did, her voice was quieter—steady, not defensive. “It’s not a decision.” A pause. “It’s how we’re made as the descendants of the Goddess of Fate.”

Afterwards the locals had been frozen out of the information flow. "Hang on to your disbelief," I cautioned Esmeralda. "My Father and I are descendants, by an ancient male line, of a deceased A****n First House. My ancestor dates back to the end of the Second Betrayal. He was sent on an official mission and told someone would come back to him and the few males with him." "Since he was on the rolls of the Host, so were all his offspring - until my Father and me," I said. I let her digest that.

“The only problem is…well, he needs her blood to make this happen. Sure, all of the children of the night are made of her but…” “They aren’t direct descendants.” I realized what he was trying to say. “Well, that’s impossible to find. There’s no way that he’d find something like that. That would mean that the goddess mother would have walked the earth. That she had actual children with someone. I…that-” I stopped as I looked at Tobias, his expression told of something else that he wasn’t telling. “That’s impossible. Right? That-Tobias, that’s impossible.” “No, no, Vale. It’s not.” he said. “Something that your mother didn’t tell you, because I don’t even know if she knows but…she is a descend

Mum’s eyes darkened as she sighed deeply. “She did, but not completely. She lives between the land of the living and the realm of the dead. She only emerges when her descendants summon her.” “Her descendants? How do we find her descendants? Do you know of any?” my brows furrowed. “There’s a descendant of hers you and I know.” “Really? Who?” I asked. Mum went silent, as if weighing the effect of the words that were about to leave her mouth. She cleared her throat, as if she was preparing for a war that was about to emerge.

“We’re not your puppets, Cassius. You think you can just walk back into a pack you abandoned and demand things?” He was fuming. And honestly, I couldn’t even blame him. Cassius opened his mouth, but I reached out and touched his arm before he could speak. I stepped forward and leveled my gaze with the Beta’s. “Is this how the Enchanted Pack treats its own blood?” I asked calmly. “Cassius may not have grown up here, but his mother did. He’s her son. That makes him a descendant. That makes our children descendants.” The Beta blinked at me, confused. Then a new voice cut through the tense air.

His hair was wet, the mug in his hand tilting slightly as he took a slow sip of coffee. “You bathed already?” I asked, caught off guard. “Looks like I’m more curious than you are about this whole descendant stuff,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. I hesitated before speaking again. “What if he found the wrong person? Or what if we’re wrong about me being a Blackwood descendant?” The thought slipped out before I could stop it. It wasn’t impossible. He shook his head. “Your blood was used to create hybrids. That alone confirms it. You’re a descendant. You’re exactly who he’s searching for.” His tone was steady, almost comforting, as if he thought I was afraid I wasn’t.

She looked at each one of them who all looked awkward and distant. Venus gritted her teeth and said once more, “What. Is. Wrong.” Ris took a deep breath and said, “The darkness on the Black Porch suddenly whispered—something that has never happened before—that you are a descendant of… Giris Druiksa.” Shad added, “Everyone in this country already considers you very dangerous.” “And, of course they are very, very shaken,” said Virzash. However, Venus was many times more shaken than the whole country.