Traitors Gate Novels & Stories

"They are clearing the network track for a secondary leak. They were preparing to sell the coordinates of the western gatehouse to the Marcone scouts at the river." The two bound enforcers widened their eyes, their chest heaving with a sudden, suffocating terror. "That’s a lie!" one of them shrieked, spitting blood onto the concrete. "We were just trying to verify if our clearance was still valid! Rossi, you bastard, you’re rewriting the ledger—"

Then he spits the truth like it burns his mouth. “Operation Nightfall,” he rasps. “If the gate doesn’t break, we open it from inside. If Rowan can’t win, he makes the King bleed.” Adrian goes very still. Then his voice drops into something terrifyingly calm. “Close it,” he orders the nearest guard. Two palace wolves lunge in, forcing the postern gate shut and slamming the bar into place. Silver bolts click. The traitor thrashes, Adrian drives him down again. “Take him,” Adrian snarls. “Silver cuffs. Now.”

God, I thought Caius had this book destroyed after what it did to Agron. I swallowed, looking at the thing with morbid curiosity. Elegant but still crude markings flowed out across the cover; I recognized them as cuneiform. On the surface were reliefs of strange creatures I’d never seen before and wolf-like beings. Whatever scene was being depicted, it wasn’t friendly. *It’s the Great War, the war with the deabru. These books are what they used to create the great gates from their world to ours and practice the evil magic that perverted the very essences of the soul. They were supposed to be destroyed on sight.*

“Then we don’t just have enemies outside the gates.” Kael stepped closer, his voice a low whisper. “We have traitors within.”

Then the walls dissolved into light revealing a projection all around me, a floating sphere of swirling galaxies, fractal maps, and Terrain star charts. A single constellation glowed brighter than the rest. Not one I recognized. It pulsed, and every star in it aligned to form a symbol: A Terrian sigil. A forbidden one. One my father once slapped my hand for touching in an old archive. “You,” the voice said, “are the key to reopening the Gate.” I froze. The Gate. The myth every scholar argued about. The ancient portal said to connect the Terrains to worlds beyond physical understanding. A portal sealed ten thousand years ago when the Terrains disappeared.

Their eyes glowed faintly silver, as if touched by the same bloodline as the general. And in the middle of it—an open gate. Wide open… The iron hinges screeched, half-broken, as if someone had shoved the locks from the inside. My stomach turned to ice. Someone from our pack had done this. Someone had invited them in. Because, without help from inside this gate was impossible to open. ‘Find the traitor,’ Veraka snarled, her voice dark and pulsing. ‘Kill them, and carve their mark into the dirt, hang his head on the entrance of the pack, so the others remember.’

Agnes woke up startled. Sudden pain in her body made her wince. The legs seem to have been disassembled. The sensitive area between the legs is also painful. She looked around. This is not her bedroom. Agnes sat up hastily. She became bewildered. Her mind immediately remembered the frenzy of last night. Agnes went with friends to Bar In The Night to entertain. They play a game. When it was Agnes' turn, she lost. Her punishment was to seduce a man sitting at the next table.

And we sure as hell don't forgive. We get even. And we make traitors pay a price they can't afford. At dawn, I walked into the study and opened the safe only I knew the code to. Inside were all the confidential files on Vincent's business dealings—as his wife, I had access to everything. I took a photo of every single document. Game on.

“Lock every gate! No one leaves, no one enters! We will hunt this traitor tonight!” Prese shivered. She could not tell if the stranger was their savior—or the very enemy she warned about.

A man bound in chains and forced into labor is working under the heat and resistance of his imprisonment, as the 12th gate and God’s symbol illuminated unto his right hand indicating his true identity. To the both of them that draws the sinister smile, the candle is blown out as a whispering voice echoes in the far distance and secluded place. To the echoing footstep of the traitor and the masked clown, a door is open as a chained person forced to deliver his every command dims his eyes and marks the true distinct eyes of a golden brown and blond hair as the 12th gate true owner, JK whispers. “How are you doing, Sagittarius holder, Aaron?”