These Deadly Prophecies Novels & Stories

I whispered, and she stood up to smack me on the arm. "Back to being gloomy? It's okay, Khalid. It's not your fault," she stated as she laughed. She smiled like a little kid. Like when she was four and our parents adored her. Even that jerk, Alpha Fredrick, loved her so much. But then he remembered the ancient prophecy that was kept in an old scroll when Katie didn't wolf out. It was passed from one leader to the next. In there was stated that once this specific event will commence.. The topic should be banished or killed.. The first prophecy is so simple and obvious. It goes like this..

“What did the prophecy say?” I asked, and my mother looked at the god of chaos seriously. “The prophecy of the nymphs of destiny said that a god of the main triad would fall in love with a mortal and the result of that love would be the key to avoiding war,” my mother said, and I started laughing. “That's stupid because the anchor prophecy says that I will be the doom of Xalaris,” I said annoyed. “Which damn prophecy do I believe?”

he began, intertwining his fingers on the table. Man, what's this oldie suspecting now? It better be something interesting. Jace groaned in the mindlink. "After much thoughts and very deep one at that, I finally recalled from the prophecy years ago. The priest made a prophecy, giving reasons for the deadly illness existed in our packs, the climate change; making it hard for we werewolves to live in, and the animals who dies before they are hunted and killed by our claws in the forest. They were always found lifeless and many wolves went rogue for there weren't enough blood to feast on, hunting on innocent humans to survive and retain their strengths. And I am guessing, not totally sure yet,

Prophecy of Blood and Moon Long before Maverick Delacroix and Odessa Kingsleigh ever stood beneath the same sky, the world itself had begun to whisper. Ancient texts—half-burned, half-forgotten—spoke of a convergence marked by omens rather than dates. They told of a night when the moon would bleed silver instead of light, when roses would bloom black at dawn, and when shadows would no longer know which master they served. Vampires called it The Crimson Turning. The neko elders named it The Hour of Unbinding. Different tongues, same dread. In those prophecies, two figures always appeared at the center of the unraveling.

The final revelation from the prophecy echoed in my mind, filling me with a sense of dread and urgency. The words of the ancient scroll still burn in my memory: “The storm that gathers will not be of nature’s making but of blood and betrayal. The moon shall weep, and only the purest heart can withstand the coming tide.”

“He nearly drove straight into you, Katarina. I was screaming for him to stop.” “That’s not true,” Valentino snapped. “Don’t twist it.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s the concussion talking. Or maybe…” Her eyes slid toward me, glinting. “It’s the prophecy.” Everything in the room went still. “The what?” I asked. Fiorella smiled faintly, stepping closer. “The prophecy that one of the De Luca twins will die by your hand. And the other will live because of you.” My stomach dropped. “What did you just say?”

I responded, earning me a confused look from the supposed king. “What prophecy?” he inquired. It seemed the previous king had not shared with his council and his most trusted right hand the real truth, “He must have known you were a snake from the very beginning.” “Answer me,” his voice lowered to a threatening volume. ‘Gritting my teeth harshly before answering him, “A prophecy of your death, and the death of every lycan as well.” A thought occurred to me why only the lycans had been rumored to be dying in the first place, “Why didn't I think of this before?” A smirk sat on my lips as I glared at the king.

They were driven by a twisted interpretation of an ancient prophecy, one that foretold a time of great upheaval, a time when the balance of power would shift, and only the strongest would survive. According to the prophecy, interpreted through generations of the Shadow Stalkers’ leaders, only through chaos and bloodshed could a new, powerful leader emerge to guide them into a golden age. This leader, they believed, would be revealed through a series of trials and tribulations, a crucible that would test their strength, their loyalty, and their ruthlessness. This belief justified their violent acts, their relentless pursuit of power, and their disregard for the lives they claimed along the wa

“A Prophecy?” I nodded and continued. “Yeah, a prophecy about Galen and me. It is said that the evil king through greed had planned to kill the other royals and take over all three worlds, poisoning the worlds with darkness and evil. The prophet who gave the prophecy said there would be two born a boy and a girl who will be the light to chase the darkness.” “How do you know it is about you and Galen?”

I purred. He was silent for a while, before taking in a deep breath and exhaling. “There’s more to the prophecy than what you know.” My heart thudded. “What do you mean?” Eric stepped closer, his gaze intense. “The Blood Moon. If neither you nor your mother kills each other when it rises, the world will be thrown off balance. The mystics’ powers — the wolves’ strength, the vampires’ immortality, the witches’ magic — will spin out of control, consuming the world in chaos. That’s the part of the prophecy my father doesn’t want you or anyone else to know.”