The Fallen House Of Ardan Novels & Stories

They clung to each other, sobbing—a scene so touching it could move anyone to tears. I stared coldly at the jeweled circlet on his head, flashing arrogantly in the firelight. My own hair, before I died, had been tied back with nothing but a frayed leather cord—some drunken client's careless afterthought. I listened as Matthew, in that clear, sweet voice of his, spun a story so perfect it was seamless. "Father, forgive me—I've been so unfilial. I wasn't lost that night. I was taken—kidnapped by slavers.

Before anyone could react, she drove it into her own heart, a cry of anguish escaping her lips as she fell to the ground. Ardolf rushed forward, his hands stained with the blood of both friend and foe, his heart heavy with the weight of the choices he had made. The pack stood in stunned silence, the clearing a tableau of loss and sacrifice. As the moon cast its silvery light over the scene, the pack members lowered their heads in a solemn tribute. Ardolf's victory had come at a steep cost, a cost that would forever shape the destiny of Esteros. The song of the wolves filled the night, a mournful melody that spoke of the complexities of power, pride, and the sacrifices made in the pursuit of

The Dagger flew out of his hand, spinning across the floor. Aradaa stood in the center of the light. His eyes were white. His hair was lifting as if he were underwater. "The Forge is mine," Aradaa’s voice echoed through the Hive. "The Ridge is mine. And you are nothing." He turned toward the anvil. He didn't touch it. He just looked at it. The obsidian shattered. A shockwave ripped through the chamber. The walls cracked. The ceiling began to fall. "The Hive is coming down!" Seraphina shrieked. She turned into a cloud of smoke and vanished.

The sharp scent of mountain ash — poison to his hybrid kin — drifted toward them on the cold breeze. “They’re weakening the pack,” he growled, his voice low but edged with a dangerous calm. "Just like the night I was born" Arda said. "Only this time, they are using technology to drop the damn poison. Let's go." Arda’s heart hammered. She clutched his arm as they raced across the moon-lit fields. The glow of the mansion’s many windows flickered like watchful eyes ahead of them. Gillow and Arda emerged from the edge of the forest at a run. When they broke through the last line of trees, the chaos came into view: the courtyard bristled with figures — some crouched in wolf

“Tomorrow, at the celebration, we’ll make our move especially now that your wolf is restored.” Ardan nodded. Dominic’s reign of lies was coming to an end, and he would pay for every ounce of pain he had caused. The time for vengeance had arrived. Later that day, Ardan had fallen into a light sleep with his body still recovering despite the incredible restoration of his wolf. I wanted to have some rest like he was but I couldn’t rest. Not when Zone, Gilly, and Rachel were somewhere in the palace. I closed my eyes, reaching out through the bond that connected me to Zone. It was faint and distant, but I concentrated, pouring all my focus into finding him.

"Fuck off half-breed!" I grunted, pulling my scythe from the dying body. The creature lay there, his eyes boring into me. It had been a terrible fight, the likes of which I hadn't had for some time, which was thrilling and yet somehow saddened me, to snuff out the very being who had brought me such joy. His lips turned up slightly, his eyes, as blinding as the sun met mine. So this was a son of Shamsiel, former guardian angel of Eden and aid to Uriel, the fallen angel who taught the signs of the sun to men. You could tell by their attributes, Shamsiel's descendants possessed eyes that could blind you, thankfully most of us had special gear to negate any of the Nephilim's known attributes. M

said a man through the communication device. “Yes Lieutenant Kent. What is it?" asked Captain Arnold. “The west gate has fallen and the monsters are starting to enter the building!” said Lieutenant Kent frantically. "Boom! Dor! Duar!!” Gunshots and explosions were clearly heard from Captain Arnold's communication device. It seemed Lieutenant Kent and his subordinates were having a fierce battle against the monsters. “Lieutenants, how many soldiers are there left? We will immediately send assistance to you!” said Captain Arnold in a panic.

Now I knew he'd been bleeding me dry for Riley Anderson, his childhood sweetheart. "I want to refinance the house, too," he added. I stopped what I was doing, my hands frozen in the sink, and turned to stare straight at him. "You really want your four three-year-old sons to end up homeless?" This house wasn't much, just a small three-bedroom, but it was ours—the one we'd fought for, saved for, and sacrificed for. The mortgage wasn't even close to being paid off. His name was on the deed because when we first bought it, I had been out of town on business. He'd told me it would be easier that way, with him making the payments.

Mira lowered her eyes to the drawing of the silver door. “Is that why Papa is angry?” As though in answer, a door slammed somewhere beyond the wall. A few seconds later, Arden entered the room. Usually calm, he now looked like a man who had spent several hours arguing with the entire structure of the world and was beginning to suspect the world would win simply by refusing to participate. A crumpled note was clenched in one hand.

The sky is darker than it should be for this hour. Not night. Not a storm. Just... off. The kind of wrong that makes your skin crawl before your brain even catches up. The air stinks of burnt earth and something old—something dead that keeps pretending it's still alive. Arwan had suddenly disappeared from where they were, probably to avoid being attacked and weakening his army. The ground shakes again, not from footsteps, but from magic. It rolls through NorthHill like a low drumbeat that won’t stop.