The Forgotten Novel Novels & Stories

Hi, hope you're doing good and the year has been going well for you? You must've noticed the lack of updates and I sincerely apologize for it. After my grandma's passing, things haven't been the same and I'm sad to admit that I went down a spiral and I had to take a step back for my mental health and to give you a proper ending. And I'm hoping my new book will also be ready by the time The Forgotten Marriage is done. There are five chapters left to go and maybe one bonus chapter. I can't say I'm totally fine but I'm getting there and I'm grateful to everyone who reached out and left comments as well.

Someone shouting that the forgotten one could never awaken again. Forgotten one. Not forgotten goddess. God. The realization made her stomach twist. “What if the title was never about Lealla?” she whispered suddenly. Both men looked toward her instantly. Freya stood slowly now despite the lingering dizziness. “What if the forgotten goddess wasn’t the one being hunted?” Eros’s expression darkened slightly. “You think something else was erased.” “I think heaven buried an entire truth.” The words echoed through the library. And deep down, Freya knew she was right.

Together, bound. >>>>>>>>>>>>> Into the Forgotten Hills……. We traveled to the Forgotten Hills …… a range long abandoned after the First Fall, where wards were weakest and the Cult had nested. The air there felt older, heavy with memory. Trees bowed as if they bore weight. Stones were cracked, runes worn smooth. The wolves were alert. Azelia and I walked side by side. “I still feel the echo,” she said softly. “Of the one who came before.” I nodded. “I do too.”

"When enough division existed, it entered the world fully." The memories shifted again. Now I saw the war. Not between light and shadow. Between everyone and the Silence. The Hollow Guard. The ancient armies. The throne. The queen. Fighting desperately against a darkness that consumed everything it touched. Not physically. Emotionally. People forgot who they loved, forgot what they believed, forgot themselves. The realization hit me like a physical blow. The Forgotten. That's why they were called that. The queen saw understanding dawn on my face. "Yes." Pain flashed through her eyes. "They were not created."

“In business?” I met his eyes, felt the weight of what was unspoken between us. “In everything.” Silence stretched, then broke under the sound of his laugh, “Finally.” He reached for my hand, his palm warm against mine. For the first time in what felt like forever, my chest didn’t feel hollow anymore. I wasn’t na?ve. There were ghosts I’d never outrun: Emily’s laughter, Damian’s betrayal, my parents’ tears. But the power I’d found here—power I’d carved out for myself—was mine to keep.

The Forgotten Mate 4. The Baby. Months had passed since that fateful night, and yet the memory of the mysterious man lingered within the depths of my mind, a bittersweet reminder of the fleeting happiness he had brought me. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, the pain of my existence persisted, unyielding in its relentless grip.

I traced them with a finger, heart oddly steady. Reading it this time felt different. There were mentions of bloodlines cursed and blessed, of witches who could shift the tides of fate. And one phrase jumped out at me—“The forgotten child always carries the loudest truth.” A chill spread through me. Forgotten. Cast aside. Like me. I flipped another page and gasped quietly. A symbol glowed faintly beneath my touch. It pulsed once, soft as breath. Then I heard it. A low growl. In my head.

But her fingers curled around it like a promise made in smoke. VAIRO FAMILY ARCHIVES TIME: UNKNOWN A new shrine was being built. Not for Morrow. But for the one who vanished. Old Vairo loyalists had begun whispering in back rooms. About a ghost. A queen who left no record. A woman who didn’t need a name to be feared. The Forgotten Daughter. And somewhere… someone just lit the first candle in her name. LOCATION: UNDERCITY – GLASSHOUSE SAFEHOUSE TIME: 6:44 a.m. The city wasn’t awake yet.

My fingertips hover above her cheek as I remember summer nights when touching her wasn’t complicated by years of bitterness. Five years ago, her brother stole everything from me—my business, my reputation, nearly my life. Tonight, fate delivered his most precious possession directly into my hands. Complete amnesia. The words echo through my mind and settle like foundation stones beneath a plan that forms with each passing second. “If you don’t remember who you are,” I whisper to her sleeping form, “then I’ll tell you exactly who you need to be.” A wedding ring sits heavy in my pocket—a prop from an undercover operation last year that I had Mateo fetch. Perfect for convincing a woman with no

She thought about the champagne glass tower that had fallen on her. She thought about her stolen draft. Every one of them was far worse than merely having her phone number leaked! Despite everything, she had chosen to forgive him again and again. She forgave him for his mistakes and the hurt he caused her. Who cared about her leaked phone number? Regardless, she kept all of her thoughts to herself. All she did was hold her stance that the secretary should not be fired. Somehow, Cleo could tell that she was holding herself back from saying what was on her mind.