Turning The Tables Of Destiny Novels & Stories

After God knows how long, I heard Philip's intentionally low growl through the chaos. "Damn it! Who told you to make a move at the engagement party? Besides, I told you to kidnap me and blame it on Mason. Why did you take him, too? "You bunch of idiots! It doesn't matter how realistic you act now. You can forget about the final payment! You've ruined my whole plan!" My awareness slowly returned, and I immediately pieced things together. It was another one of Philip's schemes, though this time, it didn't seem to go as he expected.

"Didn't you promise to keep me from harm? Didn't you say I was your favorite? You even watched Carol get infected after her surgery. "She's the one who murdered your parents. I'm the true Smith heiress, the only cure for your wounded hearts. Haven't I been the rock you've leaned on all this time?" Frantically, she smeared away the blood on her face, whispering, "We… We're the real family. It was me... I saved you all... "You only feel sorry for her because of the ties of blood," she repeated mechanically, like a tape record stuck in a loop. With a swift kick, Nathan sent her sprawling again, his voice dripping with disgust, "You're the pitiful leech surviving on our sympathy. Get lost!

It's alive, hungry and reaching for Edward. My body moves before I think. Light surges from my palms, blue, sharp, blinding. It cuts through the shadow like a blade, burning it away. Bibi Kamwe jerks back, surprised. Then she laughs. “Ah. There it is. The child in your womb awakens, and with it… your true sight.” Her eyes gleam. “Destiny stolen. Fate rewritten. But I will correct it.” She steps forward, gathering another wave of magic.

The deepest wall of the blood archive opened like a mouth trying to remember language. Behind it was not another chamber. It was a dinner. Jack felt the shape before he saw it and hated the Hand for its sense of theater. A table. Again. Always a table. The first humiliation, the first contract, the first review, the first lock. Power loved tables because tables made hunger look civilized. This one was set for twelve. At each place sat a god-file that had not yet received alternative review.

But it wasn't empty. On the left side of the long mahogany table sat a physical manifestation of the Miller Fortune. It wasn't just money; it was a glowing orb of pure data—the deeds to every city, the cure for her brother’s illness, the safety of her mother, and the power to rule the world’s economy. On the right side of the table stood Caleb. He was strapped into a glass chair, his eyes closed, his chest barely moving. A digital blade of blue light hovered inches above his heart.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d seen this before — in that red desert, under the three moons. The devil had knocked. And now she wanted in.

Choice asked her sister Destiny who was busy writing the FATE MANUSCRIPT Destiny didn’t respond at all, which made Choice quite anxious. She snatched the FATE MANUSCRIPT, from her hands saying, “You can work on it later, sister. First you answer me.” Snatching the MANUSCRIPT back from her, Destiny glared at her, responding in a low inaudible tone, making Choice glued to her spot, “Whatever she would ask, is fated to wreak havoc in their lives.”

The table began to shrink. When the Necromancer’s black shield faded, Dominic saw his enemy seemingly melting into the fabric of the magical table itself. He could not allow the Necromancer to escape, nor could he permit the essences of his fallen brethren to remain imprisoned in such a horrid state of limbo. Better to destroy it all, he knew. Racing forward, he unleashed his most powerful magic upon the foul instrument, but the magic bounced ineffectually off the slowly shrinking table. Dominic didn’t hesitate. He knew his only chance to destroy the table and to send his brethren to a final rest was from the inside. This was why fate had spared him a century before, he was certain. He would

Erevon looked at him. “ No. Three nights.” He smirked. “Let her fear build. Let her instincts scream. Let her powers grow just enough to become unstable again.” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper: “And when that moment comes… we strike.” The fortress fell utterly silent. Torches snuffed out simultaneously. Darkness claimed the hall. The whispers of stone echoed faintly, carrying a warning none dared ignore. And somewhere, beyond the horizon, destiny waited.

The stones are hovering over a small rounded table. Shane touched the pattern engraved on the rounded table while the other two read each word on the stones. "Take Thy Offerings, Fulfill The End Of The Bargain, Goal Shall Be Attained." At that exact moment, the wind blew hard, grazing Shane's cheeks by sharp leaves. "Shane, stay away from the table!" Damien yelled, however it was already too late. A drop of blood fell into the pattern engraved on the table. The table lit up and repelled the three.