The One Within Novels & Stories

I will love you and only you for as long as I live. I give my heart to you, only you. And no matter what happens, I will never take it back. I don't want you to be uncertain about our future or be insecure. You are the only one I want to kiss, the only one I want to make love to, the only one I want to bear my children and the only one I want to be beside me until the end of my life.

(ENCHANTED HELL) “WELL YOU SEE, I MAY NOT LOOK LIKE ONE, BUT I AM THE MOST POWERFUL ONE, THE ORIGINAL AND IRREPLACEABLE ONE. I HOLD EVERYTHING AND PLAY THE SAME GAME, I KNOW EVERYTHING, EVERY BIT AND WROTE DESTINY ITSELF, FOR YOU SEE, I AM GOD.” God. The word that’s circling unto her mind for a while and somehow sipping right through and deep into her consciousness, where it echoes and rings like the only thing that ever existed in that time that she needed to process and believe.

This is the moment. Define it. Or be defined. The two heartbeats inside me pulse once in perfect clarity. And I answer. “Not dominion,” I say steadily. “Protection.”

I was that soft on the inside. I decided to ask him a little question of my own. “I have always wondered, how does it feel being the only one of your kind? You know, how does it feel getting that inner loneliness because there's no one to communicate your feelings with, and a whole lot of people just fear you.” He shrugged. “It is awfully lonely but I had told myself long ago that if I focused on it, I would never survive.”

Not outward Inward. And something answered. Not the presence. Not the fragments. Her. “You’re finally quiet.” My breath hitched Or at least, it felt like it did. “…where are we?” Silence stretched for a moment. Then— “Inside the core.” The word hit differently now. Core. Not a place. Not exactly. More like… The center of everything I was. Everything I sealed. Everything I refused to remember. My vision shifted. Slowly. Like something peeling back.

Pain lances sharp—memories flashing vivid: first flight together, first kiss after battle, wedding vows under my dawn, honeymoon skies. Not taken. Shared. Amplified. Burned into the Seal. The crystal lattice forms—beautiful, terrible, pulsing with our combined power. The One wraps it in silk of starlight. **The One:** “This will close the active breaches. Burn the nests. Push the swarm back to the edge. But not end them. Their heart is deeper—in the void between voids. The true source must be found.” He hands it to me—warm, heavy, singing with our essence.

They would never be able to be pieced together as they once were. The coroner's voice was strained. "The dismembered body parts have been soaked for too long and cannot be identified by smell, but we found a tattoo on the inside of the left wrist." My soul floated beside Chad, watching him approach step by step. I knew what it was. It was the tattoo I had painstakingly pierced with a needle the day I awakened my inner wolf as an adult. It was Timothy's initials. Back then, I thought it was proof of love. Now, it seemed like nothing more than me being silly and sentimental.

Colin interrupted him. “Yes, I think we established that earlier,” Sean said, feeling his patience growing thin. “But she isn’t just a luna, she wasn’t born to just be your luna. She is born an alpha. She may not have a pack in the classical sense, but she still leads a pack. In fact, she is above you in rank. She is the Beloved One. She transcends all leaders in the magical community, you included,” Sean told him.

Rent was one of the major headaches of living in the capital city but he was well paid so he could afford it. Muhammad now had an idea about who he was dealing with because he now knew that he was no match for The First One when it came down to physique, speed or killer instincts. The only chance he might have against The First One is his psychological abilities and that was what he was going to use to take down the psycho. He needed to find a way to stay alive if he was going to end up being the last man standing in their inevitable showdown. There was a car parked outside his house with members of the Tactical Assault Team (TAT) of the SSS keeping watch over him but he was still not taking

Him . Null-stability. Not a shield. Not now. A bridge . Desperation ignites a final spark. I stop pushing against the ritual’s pull. Instead, I focus inward , then outward , not defensively, but like… like throwing a lifeline. Pouring every shred of will, every memory of warmth, every agonizing ounce of him I still carry, down that fragile psychic thread linking me to the altar, to the dagger, to the core buried deep within the corruption. It’s a scream made of pure, focused memory, a name ripped from the deepest, most broken part of me, not shouted, but projected with the force of a dying star: "ARTHUR!"