The morning sunlight barely penetrated the thick canopy of the Emberfang forest as Rayka and Sylvester rode out with their team. Their hearts were still heavy with the betrayal they had uncovered within their ranks, but there was no time to dwell on it. Scouts had discovered a deserted faction outpost hidden deep within the woods. The timing was suspicious—almost as if the faction wanted them to find it—but Rayka couldn’t ignore the potential for critical intelligence.Sylvester rode beside her, his sharp eyes scanning the trees for any sign of danger. “If they left in a hurry, they might have overlooked something important. Let’s make this count.”Rayka nodded, her thoughts echoing his. “We’ll keep the group small and discreet. If this is a trap, we can’t risk a full-scale engagement.”Kaelin, Eira, and two seasoned scouts flanked them as they reached the outpost. It was little more than a cave obscured by thick underbrush, its entrance guarded by fallen logs and brambles. The group
The forest trembled under an unnatural energy. Shadows crept where they didn’t belong, and the wind carried whispers that felt like an unspoken warning. Rayka and Sylvester stood at the edge of Marelda’s clearing, watching the horizon light up with a pulsing glow. The artifact in Rayka’s hands hummed, its blue gem flashing in time with the ominous light.“This is it,” Rayka said quietly, her voice almost drowned by the rising gusts of wind. “The artifact is leading us there.”Sylvester tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade. “Then we have no choice. Whatever ritual they’re attempting, we have to stop it.”Marelda stepped up beside them, her sharp eyes focused beyond the treeline. “They’ve chosen a sacred place, one tied to the power of the Ancients. You must hurry, or the consequences will be irreversible.”“What happens if they complete the ritual?” Eira asked, her tone edged with unease.Marelda’s expression darkened. “It will awaken something that should remain buried—power th
by Ethan Choi His name is Thorran Savage although he preferred to be called by one syllable nickname “Thor”. Yes, just like the God of Thunder, he’s our god. We call him our god because we had no other choice. Thor is the strongest of the strongest hence there is no comparable word other than god. In all honesty, I’ve never been fond of him. I’ve never met him but it’s crazy to see how adeptly he paved our lives for us without even knowing our existence. If I could be blunt, I could even say that I hated him my whole life. After all, he was the sole reason why every one of us must be removed from our family callously to attend boarding school until the age of eighteen. It’s compulsory, he declared. It was also compulsory to attend further education until we obtained a useful job like doctor or lawyer. Of course that rule didn’t apply for misfits. What happen to those? They were shipped off to manually train to be nothing more than security guards. Shipped off to provide security f
I'm not an easily intimidated girl. Never have been. But no one has induce a cold chill across the surface of my skin like the woman in front of me. Her eyes are a steely, intense hazel. Usually hazel is a warm, inviting colour. Not in this case. Her dark hair is pulled away from her face, revealing the sharp facial structure created by her jaw and her cheekbones. I don't know what hole she crawled out of, but it's clearly a very immaculate one. "Is your name Aerys Maria Sinclair?" she asks coolly. Her accent is Discipline Pack bred, but there is something about her that seems unnervingly unfamiliar. Foreign. I reach for the cool I keep deep within me. "Who's asking?' Ignoring the sharp glare Mistress Thatcher shoots me from the corner of my eye, I continue to smile sweetly. She returns my smile tightly, lacing her fingers together. "You may refer to me as Miss Tilsbury," she tells me. Her tone is no nonsense. Miss Tilsbury it is, I suppose. "I am a representative for a corporatio
Seeing this is making me shy away from my initial excitement. The facility is imposing, a building behind the main office scaling larger than any other. The plaster cladding is an ash grey, the windows tinted dark and reflective. The office is slightly warmer, manicured gardens consumed by small topiary line a gravel footpath up to the main doors. The other buildings are similar, with more windows. But outside the ajar car door, despite the cold atmosphere, birds chatter and cherry blossoms from the drive sweeten the air. "Inside, we will have your other contract ready for you to sign if you are willing," Tilsbury says, as I nervously slide out of the car, leaving the plush seats of the SUV behind. "And then we will proceed from there." I follow her as she abnormally strides along the gravel in her heels, leading me through the front door. My assumptions were that this is an office. But there is no reception desk, no manicured lady or short sofas partnered with sleek coffee tables
I didn't sleep easy that night. The bed had sunk into the shape of someone else, so all night, I shifted uncomfortably. The unknown haunt my dreams, the amount of times I woke not knowing where I was being ridiculous. I'm in the middle of nowhere, my fate unknown. Whoever sleeps in the rooms around me are surely as anxious about tomorrow. I take comfort in knowing I'm not the only one. The lack of curtains truly live up to their desired effect. Sun glared into my eyes the moment it rose, at some ungodly hour. As much as my body protested, I knew it was my cue to get up and face this undetermined day. Out of sheer habit, I made my bed. If this is anything like the institute I grew up in, someone would come in to check it, then scold me if it was done incorrectly. So I fold the sheets up, and decide to figure out what to wear. I wasn't allowed to bring any clothing or personal items with me. As much as it saddens me, I know I didn't own anything or significance. I'm sure all of it wil
I wasn't aware we would be meeting the Alpha so early. A sense of nervousness seems to settle over everyone. We all share the same disbelief. Perhaps if our Alpha did more public appearances, or didn't have the amount of rumour surrounding him that he does, then we wouldn't be so stricken with surprise. Juan leads us out of the building we all slept in, leading us toward one which towers so high above us, the shadow it casts chills me to my bone. The large doors are pushed open as we arrive, Juan ushering is in. Everyone is too stunned to utter a single word, as we look around what I assume is a gymnasium. Juan requires to all line up, which we all do without a word of protest uttered. I'm assuming the lot of us are too worried Thorranmay be watching to act out. I stand between Mira and Drayton. After what Drayton admitted, I'm nervous being in his presence. Why did he go to jail? Everyone here seems to have some history with delinquency, me included to a degree. It leaves me wonde
Even if I wanted to talk, I couldn't. Fright has seized my voice. The man standing in front of me is terrifying. He seems power and intimidation, eyes as blue as the foaming ocean, but as cold as chips of ice. The the fabric that covers his nose and mouth matches the hood pulled over his head, and the clothes close to his body. His jacket seems to be made out of a hardened mesh fabric - as if to drain away the blood of an unfortunate victim - with hardened panels on the breast area and shoulder. Whoever he is, I'm about to obey his every word. I wouldn't stand a chance against him. I can see the thickness of his muscle stature under his clothes. One wrong move on my part could mean the end of my life. He flicks a finger toward the door. It's covered in a leather glove, to leave no trace of himself. It's frightening. I noticed the camera's mounted in the corners of the room yesterday. Are they not seeing this? Following the silent instruction, I quickly hustle into the corridor, the
The forest trembled under an unnatural energy. Shadows crept where they didn’t belong, and the wind carried whispers that felt like an unspoken warning. Rayka and Sylvester stood at the edge of Marelda’s clearing, watching the horizon light up with a pulsing glow. The artifact in Rayka’s hands hummed, its blue gem flashing in time with the ominous light.“This is it,” Rayka said quietly, her voice almost drowned by the rising gusts of wind. “The artifact is leading us there.”Sylvester tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade. “Then we have no choice. Whatever ritual they’re attempting, we have to stop it.”Marelda stepped up beside them, her sharp eyes focused beyond the treeline. “They’ve chosen a sacred place, one tied to the power of the Ancients. You must hurry, or the consequences will be irreversible.”“What happens if they complete the ritual?” Eira asked, her tone edged with unease.Marelda’s expression darkened. “It will awaken something that should remain buried—power th
The morning sunlight barely penetrated the thick canopy of the Emberfang forest as Rayka and Sylvester rode out with their team. Their hearts were still heavy with the betrayal they had uncovered within their ranks, but there was no time to dwell on it. Scouts had discovered a deserted faction outpost hidden deep within the woods. The timing was suspicious—almost as if the faction wanted them to find it—but Rayka couldn’t ignore the potential for critical intelligence.Sylvester rode beside her, his sharp eyes scanning the trees for any sign of danger. “If they left in a hurry, they might have overlooked something important. Let’s make this count.”Rayka nodded, her thoughts echoing his. “We’ll keep the group small and discreet. If this is a trap, we can’t risk a full-scale engagement.”Kaelin, Eira, and two seasoned scouts flanked them as they reached the outpost. It was little more than a cave obscured by thick underbrush, its entrance guarded by fallen logs and brambles. The group
The tension in the council room was suffocating, each leader’s gaze darting between Rayka and Sylvester as they delivered the troubling news. The messenger's announcement of the advancing forces had left a chilling silence in its wake. However, as the details unfolded, an even more sinister realization began to take root: someone within their ranks had betrayed them.Rayka’s mind raced as she paced the room, her thoughts a whirlpool of doubt and suspicion. Trust was the foundation of their fragile alliance, and if that trust was compromised, everything they had fought for would crumble.“We need to act fast,” Sylvester said, his voice low but firm as he leaned against the council table. “If there’s an inside man feeding information to the faction, they’ll know our plans before we even make them.”Helmar, seated at the far end of the table, nodded grimly. “But how do we root them out without causing a full-scale panic? The packs are already on edge after the Silvermane rescue and the re
The news of Silvermane's fall came like a thunderclap, reverberating through the corridors of the Moonshade stronghold. Rayka stood frozen, her breath catching in her throat as Helmar delivered the report with grim precision.“Silvermane has been compromised,” Helmar said, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. “The new faction seized their stronghold during what was supposed to be a peace negotiation. Alaric and his pack were ambushed—caught completely off guard.”Rayka’s mind raced, the weight of the betrayal sinking in. Alaric, the Silvermane alpha, was one of the few leaders she trusted implicitly. His strength and loyalty had been a cornerstone of their alliance. To imagine him captured—or worse—was a blow she hadn’t anticipated.“Do we know their status?” Sylvester asked, his voice tight with controlled anger. He stood beside Rayka, his presence grounding her even as the storm of emotions raged within.Helmar shook his head. “The survivors are scattered. Some made it
The council room was shrouded in a somber atmosphere. The scent of old parchment and burning candles filled the air as Rayka and Sylvester studied the detailed reports laid out before them. Helmar’s scouts had uncovered a revelation that sent a chill through the room—a hidden base belonging to the new faction, nestled deep in an uncharted valley surrounded by towering cliffs and dense forest.Helmar’s voice broke the silence. “The base lies here,” he said, tapping a spot on the map with his finger. “Near the Whispering Woods. It’s a stronghold—a fortress. They’ve taken great care to conceal it from prying eyes.”Rayka leaned forward, her sharp eyes narrowing as she traced the marked routes and symbols. “How long has this been there?” she asked.Helmar exchanged a glance with Seren, the lead scout. “Years, perhaps. Long enough to construct defenses, patrol routes, and stockpile resources. They’ve hidden it well, likely using the dense forest and treacherous cliffs as natural camouflage
The dawn broke over the aftermath of the battle, casting its muted glow over the fortress and its scarred courtyard. Rayka and Sylvester stood on the battlements, surveying the horizon as their thoughts churned with the weight of the recent attack. The silence between them spoke volumes—both understood the gravity of their situation.“We’re fighting an enemy who’s always one step ahead,” Sylvester said, breaking the silence. His voice was heavy, his grip on the battlement stone tight.Rayka nodded, her expression somber. “And now we have this unknown faction to contend with. We can’t keep reacting; we need to take the offensive.”Their conversation was interrupted by the approach of Seren, her stride purposeful. “We have a visitor,” she announced, her tone carefully neutral.“Who?” Rayka asked, her instincts on high alert.Seren hesitated, her gaze flicking between the two leaders. “It’s... Helmar.”Both Rayka and Sylvester stiffened at the name. Helmar, a former rival and one-time ch
The air inside the grand hall was cold and still, a stark contrast to the warm sunlight spilling through the tall windows. Rayka and Sylvester stood side by side, their gazes locked on the figure seated at the head of a long obsidian table. The leader of the new faction, a man named Draven Kallor, exuded an air of control and menace. His presence dominated the room, every movement calculated, every glance a subtle assertion of power.“Welcome,” Draven said, his voice smooth yet laced with condescension. “I’ve been expecting you.”Rayka stepped forward, her posture poised but unyielding. “You’ve gone to great lengths to orchestrate this meeting,” she replied, her tone carefully measured. “Let’s not waste time with pleasantries.”A faint smile tugged at Draven’s lips. “Straight to the point. I can respect that,” he said, gesturing for them to sit.As Rayka and Sylvester took their seats, their elite guards positioned themselves discreetly along the walls, eyes scanning for any signs of
The council chamber was heavy with tension, its stone walls amplifying the ominous weight of Alaric’s discovery. Rayka stood at the head of the long oak table, her fingers tracing the edges of the decoded scroll spread before her. Each line of the text seemed to pull her deeper into a web of danger and uncertainty.“This isn’t just a minor setback,” Rayka said, her voice low but firm. “This changes everything.”Sylvester, standing close beside her, nodded grimly. His arms were crossed, and his eyes were locked on the cryptic runes and careful diagrams sketched across the parchment. “A secret alliance between the Silverclaw Order and a faction we’ve never encountered,” he said, his tone laced with disbelief. “This isn’t just an escalation—it’s a declaration of war.”Lysandra, seated at the far end of the table with her meticulously kept notes spread out, adjusted her glasses. “What’s most concerning,” she said, “is the nature of this new faction. From what we can decipher, they call th
Rayka paced the length of the war room, her boots tapping a steady rhythm against the wooden floor. Her mind churned with thoughts of the ambush and the calculated precision with which the attack had been executed. Every detail—the timing, the terrain, the coordinated strategy—pointed to one undeniable truth: this was no random act of violence.Sylvester sat at the head of the table, his broad shoulders tense and his gaze fixed on the map spread before him. The table was cluttered with evidence retrieved from the ambush site: broken blades, marked arrows, a bloodstained map, and, most disturbingly, the silver ring etched with the emblem of the Silverclaw Order.The sight of the ring sent a shiver through Rayka. It was a symbol of an enemy long thought defeated—a ghost from their past that refused to be laid to rest. She reached out, her fingers brushing over the intricate design of the serpent coiled upon itself.“This can’t be a coincidence,” she said, her voice low but firm. “The Si