Three Pure Ones Novels & Stories

The rest, follow me. The laughters of the three men caught the attention of the people in the ballhall. John comes to his senses first and nudges the two. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, then takes a breath and explains. “We were messing around with the group names earlier. We didn’t think that they would actually use it. Anyway, we said to just use A,B and C groups.” “I like being in the coolest group,” one man said, which amuses the men, and the ones in the “Coolest Group” also agreed.

Another lady walked towards us along with other people and I searched for Harsha. I don’t want him to be a part of this so that I can act on my anger. I felt relief when I saw that he is with a few other kids and is getting introduced with each other. “Not you too, Nipuna.” Jhanvi groaned. “Guys, don’t forget that he planned this reunion.” Jay commented. “You recently got all the forgiveness from this family. Do you really want to talk as a support for him?” a guy asked, standing near Kalpana while holding her hand.

The Pures were unique since in a way they were the modern version of the ancients as the originals had gone extinct, they faced a serious issue however as they were few and weren't even up to fifty in total. Only a Pure could give birth to a Pure which meant that intermarriage with other species albeit birthing children with the ancient genes, the possibility of birthing a Pure, was considered nearly impossible. If marriage between more than two people (polyandry) could help in this situation, it would have been great but it was not possible. The reason behind this was due to the special physique of people born with ancient genes. These genes metamorphose a person's body to become a specific

It was a good day. Everything seemed okay. Woodhidge, the town we were headed to in my yellow sedan, was not your ordinary town. It was a town where most of its inhabitants were Supernaturals. Humans took no more than five per cent of the town total population. That indicated that roughly ninety-five percent of Woodhidge's inhabitants were not humans. Unknown to the humans there, werewolves, vampires, witches, wizards, shapeshifters, mindreaders, and seers were also proud residents of Woodhidge. However, more than half of Woodhidge's population as a whole were werewolves. The werewolf preponderance made it look like there weren't any other beings living there aside from the werewolves.

The journal mentioned the Purists—Voren’s faction—but I need clarity. Cassia takes over, her voice sharp. “The Purists are old-school subnaturals, mostly Pures like your dad’s Silvercrest line—shifters, some elementals—who believe subs are superior to humans and hybrids. They want a world where Pures rule, hybrids are erased, and humans are subjugated or worse. Voren Silvercrest, your grandfather, leads them. He’s a shifter, ancient, with a voice of command like Jorah’s, but twisted. He saw your parents’ marriage—Pure and hybrid—as a betrayal, and you as an abomination. The Purists’ll stop at nothing to wipe out the Conclave’s vision.”

Raziel says, and as I blink in surprise with their names, the three of them hold still for a few seconds, then laugh all together. We all look at each other and then back at them. It is not in Raziel's nature to even smile much, less to laugh so joyfully. But the three of them calm down and finally, the pale one speaks. "My name is Hcoma," he bows his head and his voice transmitted coldness. Then the dark one speaks, his voice strong and firm. "My name is Leliel."

Liam called him “Who is she?” He asked Liam Before Liam could answer him, Stephanie stood and said, “Hello gentlemen!” Everyone went silent and put attention on her. She smiled and continued speaking, “Let’s start the meeting!” “Some of you might be familiar with me and my partner Nathan, but some who don’t, I am Stephanie Young, a representative from the East Asia consortium. Unlike the others, I won’t say sweet words to all of you. This project is ours, but as the government forced us to involve all of you, all I can say is, know your place! Don’t be greedy, the East Asia market is ours, but sure we will give you some slices.”

After deciding to leave, I went to the Blacknight Pack's municipal office to submit my withdrawal application. "Ms. Holt," the clerk said carefully, "once you leave the pack, you'll lose all pack protection and will never be allowed to rejoin. Are you sure about this?" "I'm sure." When I stepped out of the building, a notification popped up on Instagram. "Thank you for being there for me when I'm at my weakest!" The photo beneath it showed the snowy scenery of Bhador and Mason wrapping a scarf around Eira.

I'd just play dumb. Still foggy, I sprawled on the couch and started scrolling my phone. Every headline was Xavier Leonhart, the new Leonhart CEO, spoiling his drunk wife—paparazzi shots of him carrying me to the car. I tapped one. There I was, grinning like an idiot, hands all over him. The comments were pure envy: [OMG, my heart can't take this. Where's my Xavier?] [Xavier Leonhart = total dreamboat. Shiloh Harrington really won the husband lottery—her ex was cute, but his brother's straight-up model tier!]

When they pulled apart, the city lights seemed to glow brighter, the air cleaner, the future clearer than it had been in years. But somewhere in the shadows of the city, a screen flickered to life. A single message appeared: “THEY THINK THEY’RE WINNING. LET THEM. SOON, EVERYTHING THEY BUILD WILL BE OURS.” Across town, in a dark room filled with monitors showing every angle of the south wing site, a figure in a hood pulled up a chair. Their fingers danced over a keyboard, pulling up blueprints that looked exactly like the ones Roxanne had found carved into the rebar.