Ulysses Dies At Dawn Novels & Stories

“I hope your journey wasn’t difficult.” His voice was unmistakably Ulysses, but it was deeper than I remembered, rougher now, worn down by shouting orders over battle. Hearing it again after six years made it hurt to breathe right then. “Not at all, Alpha,” I replied, amazed at how steady I sounded. “Thank you for the invitation.” Ulysses turned to Zack, and they began discussing yesterday’s battle. “Thirty warriors lost,” Ulysses said, sounding tired and ashamed.

Amidst the red and black hues, Ulysses stood out prominently. He watched me silently, without a trace of a smile, looked at me with cold, calculating eyes, like a predator considering whether to pounce on its weakened prey. I thought, this must be Ulysses’s true nature. “You need me.” Ulysses stood before me, his gaze flicking over my bleeding wounds. He lowered his head slightly, meeting my eyes directly.

Ryker and Silas were at the railing, throwing down silken ropes. ​Caleb and Elara were hauled onto the deck, collapsing in a heap of wet furs and silver-stained seawater. The "fight" was over. The Southern fleet had scattered, their flagship a memory at the bottom of the strait. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the ragged breathing of the survivors. ​Elara dropped the vault. It hit the deck with a heavy, metallic thud. Her hands were smoking, the skin on her palms charred black where she had touched the Sun-Lock.

Dante replied coldly. Wesley is tensed. He could feel the coldness seeping into his bones. He can guess that the water would be freezing too. But Dante is right. He knows that Serene might not make it out alive. The same way how Dante knows that the chances of Wesley surviving this is low. "Oh, I have a bad news. Winston is dead. You can collect his ashes from that same room where you held Serene hostage, that is, if you manage to get out of this ocean alive" Dante said before Arthur kicked Wesley into the ocean.

We reeked of smoke, blood, and exhaustion. “He’s dead,” I said, the words dry and final. “Tyrion’s gone.” A beat of silence. Adolph bowed his head. Basten clenched a fist. Magnus shifted, eyes darting to the soot-dusted ground. Ophelia didn’t speak, just nodded once, her jaw tightening. I didn’t let myself sit. Sitting felt too much like giving in. “He died trying to stop Osiris, the bastard came early, hours before we expected. He fought him, but…”

The halfway mark of the war didn't arrive with a whisper; it arrived with the roar of a hurricane. The *Stella Maris* was still tethered to the jagged Sicilian rocks when the horizon fractured. Dante, the skeletal hermit, didn't need his thermal array to know the world had ended. He tilted his head, sniffing the salt air like an old wolf sensing a forest fire. "They didn't wait for the docks," Dante rasped, his hand tightening on the long-range rifle. "They’re using the tide."

I slammed the levers forward and the boat launched through the narrow cave mouth into the freezing darkness of the Mediterranean, and behind us the great fortress of San Marco finally slid into the sea with a terrible sound of tearing iron and exploding fuel tanks that lit up the entire horizon with a dull red glow. I kept my hand on the wheel until we were at least two miles out from the cliffs and the sounds of the battle faded into the background, and then I finally cut the engine and let the vessel drift under the black sky while the rain started to wash the soot and the blood from my face. "We actually made it out of there alive and my father is gone and your mother is gone, so there is

He finally knew it was a mistake messing with Andrius and that it was suicidal trying to take his life. “Spare me!” Ulysse was truly afraid. One misstep and he might die on the spot today. He started to beg and plead for his life. “S-sir, please spare me life! I-I was wrong. I won’t do it again! I will do whatever y-you want…” The physical pain and the mental horror tormented him, causing him to stammer continuously. He could barely finish a sentence properly. Andrius grunted in disdain. “I thought you want to rip me apart. It’s too late for you to beg now. You’ve committed atrocious murders, so it’s better for you to go to hell.”

"Nothing, I just got old." "What do you mean? You've always been old. Maybe Isis' potion went haywire. By the way, where is everyone?" Dimitri sighed, then he started crying. "Everyone is dead. They are all dead!" "No, you're lying." "It's true man, James was the first to die. They ripped his head clean off his head and burned it on the snowy field." "What?"

Dylan would rather sleep in the streets that sleep here if that’s the case. "No, no. Not here, actually.” Ulysses is quick to wave his hand. “I heard my late cousin killed himself on the spot when he saw his brother-in-law's dead body on his bed. So, he committed suicide in his brother-in-law's house, not here."