Virche Evermore Novels & Stories

The elder vampire turned around, with the gun still in his hand, and pulled the trigger. Mason's eyes widened and he gasped as the vervain bullet pierced through his skin and became lodged in his chest. He staggered back and fell to the ground, unmoving. Harley screamed as Demitri pulled the trigger two more times to triple the dosage of vervain; making it impossible for Mason to break through.

And in the hush that followed the end of prophecy, when fire settled into ash and peace flowed gentle as the rivers through Sanctum, the land itself began to reach upward, unfurling truths for those willing to dig, to listen, to believe that what had been lost could be found again. It happened on the twenty-first day of excavation at Virel’s Edge, a jagged black seam on the world’s skin, a faultline that split the wild Lycan territories from the vampire dominions. The history of Virel’s Edge was too old for memory, too sacred for maps. Here, the wind sang only in whispers. Even the crows circled high, unwilling to land. Most expected nothing: shards of pottery, perhaps, or old bones tangled

It was in the middle of the night and everyone was supposedly dead asleep. Then suddenly, the door to Esther's room slung open. A silhouette figure stood steadied in the entrance appearing to be watching her with its protruding bloody eyes that were hidden beneath its mask. Its huge shape was covered in a long dark dress that flared down to its feet and covered its boots that had a tail of a fish in front. The door opened and then slammed again repeatedly, each time making a loud sound as if it was swayed by a gale of wind. Esther quickly snapped out of her sleep frightened,

Turning back to Damon, I added, "Make it look like drifters set it on fire. Leave two betas behind to make sure everything worked as planned." Damon nodded his head. "Sure, Alpha," he said gravely. "Alpha!" Everyone turned towards the approaching beta. "There's something you need to see at the northern edge of the property." "What is it?" I asked as we dashed to the place he indicated. "We were looking around for more rogues..." "And?" I asked with raised brows. "There are roughly a dozen or so freshly dug graves over there. As soon as we verified what they were. We have not counted them all yet..."

Their skins turning pale, their bodies having sparse flesh atop its skeletal framework and veins turning black making them look more or like zombies. The remaining four had to find a cure for this ailment, "Black Death"; they called it, Kimora was created by them, it came with a price, killing everyone with dark matter and three of the elders died in the process, Kimora was so powerful it did the job but a little too well having a mind of its own the last Elder saw this as a threat had the Kimora gotten rid of and he vanished not to be seen again.

it was a cold mountain. “That's not even the best part.” Poison said and the image in front of Alaric's eyes changed. This time, Violet was floating in what looked like noid and every second she spent screaming, there were unseen monsters ripping off her flesh causing her entire body to be filled with blood. Then, lightning from an unknown source struck her, making her scream out loud in pain. Alaric felt his chest start to ache. He couldn't watch it anymore. “I don't care. This is her karma for killing Chief June.”

The "Violet-Spring" of 2024 was not a silent bloom; it was a rhythmic pulse that began to synchronize with the heartbeats of everyone in Geneva. As the indigo-haze settled over the Palais des Nations, the "Natural-Sombra" began to whisper through the nervous systems of the city. Avery Vane-Thorne, standing in the center of the courtyard, felt a "Cold-Silver-Frequency" cutting through the warm "Amber-Resonance" of the Earth. It was the "Causal-Ghost"—the digital remains of the Future-Avery who had been deleted in Chapter 141. She had not vanished into the void; she had compressed her entire existence into a "Recessive-Genetic-Instruction" hidden within the violet-pollen.

He's lying there lifeless in a pool of his own blood, his white polo shirt ripped off at the chest and fresh blood oozing from what looks like a fresh wound around the left breast. My heart stops beating for a moment as I throw myself on his body, picking the murder weapon which is a Ceska pistol and throwing it beside him.. Placing my ear on his chest, I feel his faint heart beat and my face lits up. I try resuscitating him without minding the blood....that's when the unthinkable happens.. Sirens rent the warm afternoon wind! It was a set up! A damn fucking set up! It's already too late to redeem myself.

Her tone feels more like pure curiosity than real pack judgment. “Honestly? My thoughts calculate our systems are actually dating.” Our mouths are still laughing loud when my phone device rings. The screen shows an unfamiliar territory number, so my finger sends the call straight to voicemail, then plays the sound afterward on the loud speaker. “Hello, Rowan Ashcroft. This voice is Virelle Knox. Our names met earlier this cycle at the Bloodmoon Gallery. My mind was wondering if our frames could grab some lunch food together.” Two sun cycles later, my boots take the pack train across the territory to meet up with Virelle at one of her favorite spots for midday meat.

Valerius announced as he helped Shira up she thanked him with a smile. Mr. Grey noticed her and he smirked. "And you are...?" He asked as he took slow steps towards her. I turned to Giovanni then Valerius who looked pissed. "My God, you are beautiful. What's your name?" He asked. Shira looked uncomfortable. "Shira." She said with a straight face. Mr. Grey pulled out his hand but Valerius immediately stood in front of Shira blocking her from Mr. Grey. "Fucking touch her I'll slit your throat open, deliver your body to your family with a love letter from me and I'll use your blood as ink." Valerius snapped.