Through tear-blurred vision, she saw a figure emerge—a man walking toward her, the fire parting in his wake. His eyes and claws gleamed gold in the firelight, and black and gilded scales covered his face and body, reminiscent of a serpent. But something more specific hovered at the tip of her tongue. His beastly form slowly faded, leaving a beautiful man with warm skin and firm flesh behind. “Help me,” she croaked. “I don't remember…” “Anything?” the stranger asked, his voice deep and ominous. “Only my name. Araheen,” she whispered, her lips trembling.“What happened to me? What is this place?” “You fell behind the Mad End's Wall.” A shadow of a smile crossed the stranger's lips, though it was far from reassuring. Before she could dwell on it, he slid his powerful arms beneath her, lifting her effortlessly as though she weighed nothing at all. “Who are you?” she asked, feeling small in his grasp. He studied her with an enigmatic gaze before replying, I'm Gildeon.” A pause.“Your husband.”
View MoreGILDEONAnger and disappointment burned in his chest. “We had a plan for this, Roselia,” he growled, his gaze hardening on the witch. “What the fuck happened?”“Drusden set a trap in the fog, My Lord.” Roselia stared down at her trembling hands, caked with dirt and blood. “An efficient one… to capture Miss Arah.”“You were supposed to use your fog.”Her head snapped up. “If I used it as a barrier for Miss Arah, those witches would’ve taken me down right then and there.” She pointed to her chest. “They had their orders—I saw it plain in their eyes.” She shook her head and sucked in a shaky breath. “I made a choice.”His jaw clenched. “To give up Arah instead?”“My Lord, that barrier was never going to hold for long,” she said firmly. There was a subtle hint of hurt in her eyes that made Gi
GILDEONThree strikes.He had only three moves left before his body would give out. He needed to conserve his remaining energy—to fight the enchanted poison coursing through him while ensuring he would still be alive for the next few hours.Gildeon had to bet everything on these final attacks.“Overconfident, are we, salamander?” Vergilius said, a wry smile curling his lips.Gildeon shrugged. “I just like my odds.”Vergilius looked composed, but the way his fingers brushed the brim of his hat told Gildeon that the elder vampire’s fight was nearing its end. Even so, Vergilius would certainly want to drag Gildeon down with him.‘He can only try,’ Gildeon thought.His chest heaved, hot steam slipping through his gritted teeth in a hiss. The battle haze enveloped him. Fire surged in his arms, crackling as it burned from within. Swiftly, he unleashed a torrent of flame
GILDEONHe watched the next scene unfold. Young Vergilius, now a vampire, stood in the old priest’s depraved chamber. The sick bastard had gathered another group of young women, some already naked on his bed.The old man paused halfway through removing his robe and turned to the doorway. “Vergilius, is that you?” he exclaimed, narrowing his eyes. “Word reached me that you had escaped, you ingrate! Bold of you to show your face here after you nearly sent me to meet our Lord.”“Our Lord?” Young Vergilius scoffed, glancing at the naked girls. “You dare invoke His name while committing such a profane act, you old wretch.”Without waiting for a response, Young Vergilius launched himself at the old priest, hurling him across the room. His mouth latched onto the man’s neck, and the wet sound of blood being drawn filled the air as the girls around them screamed, too terrified to move.Gildeon watched as Young Vergilius nearly drained the p
GILDEONPresent Vergilius seethed beside him, dark eyes fixed on Father Jean. Young Vergilius stood frozen. Shock and confusion etched on his face, likely not expecting the old man to betray him, let alone accuse him of defiling the woman he loved.Young Vergilius tried to deny the accusation as guards dragged him away. But his word meant little against the ironically respected priest. There was clearly no way to save his skin. Charlotte’s father appeared, enraged. He beat Young Vergilius nearly to death.The scene shifted. Gildeon found himself in a dank prison cell. Young Vergilius slumped against a filthy wall, surrounded by rats, stripped of his robe and collar. Bruises marred his face and body, and each breath was visibly painful. His expression cycled between anger, despair, and frustration. He muttered a broken prayer, running his hands down his face before looking up, teeth gritted.“Why have you forsaken me, my Lord?&
GILDEONStrong magic surrounded him, pulsing from the fog. It thickened, humming with energy until he realized he was no longer in the churchyard, nor was it a night.He stood slowly, finding himself inside a grander church. Tall, arched windows let sunlight stream in, casting colored patterns on the stone floors. Ornate wooden pews were filled with people listening to the parish priest—a solid, imposing old man. At the back sat a young man in a black robe, his curly hair and sharp eyes strikingly familiar.It was Vergilius.Gildeon felt suspended in time, searching for the present Vergilius or his copies but finding none. Had the fog brought him back to the past again? What was Drusden up to now?He moved cautiously as the communion began. Young Vergilius assisted the priest, his eyes warm and innocent. A young woman approached. Gildeon noticed the faint smile exchanged between her and Young Vergilius. The old priest caught
ARAHTwo black owls with white, piercing eyes launched into the air, their wings beating in a rhythmic thrum that sliced through the silence. She stared, mouth agape. Despite everything, she still couldn’t believe it had worked. Her current tattoos weren’t sigils—or at least, they hadn’t been intended as such. They were inked into her skin with Earthland tools, without the intention of magic.But this wasn’t the time to marvel. The fight was far from over.Mayor Velazquez sneered, dark amusement glinting in her red eyes. “You think those things can hurt me?” she mocked, clicking her tongue. With a flick of her wrist, a fresh stream of water erupted from the fountain, twisting like a serpent.Arah clenched her jaw and commanded the owls. They dove, wings outstretched, slicing through the air with a powerful whoosh. Their feathers rippled as they deflected the surge—droplets splattered against
ARAHShe turned down more twisting paths, still stepping backward and glancing over her shoulder from time to time. There was no point in running if the vampire witch could easily reach her in a heartbeat. All she could do now was stay alert and find a way to escape.“So, you and your coven have been here all along?” she asked, hoping to stall but also genuinely curious.“A woman we attempted to turn long ago was a clairvoyant,” Mayor Velazquez replied, her expression growing more predatory with each step.“Clairvoyant?”“A human who could see through time and space, read the past and future,” the mayor explained, making a playful gesture with her hand. “One who could peer into realms beyond this world—including where you came from.”Arah pondered this. It sounded similar to the sylphs’ oracle and the salamanders’ seers.“She foresaw t
ARAHShe staggered back, heart pounding as Lokius shifted from one cat form to another. Alaunus’s fingers curled, and suddenly, scratches and stab wounds appeared on Lokius’s feline body—likely old scars that had reopened. Alaunus moved in, fists flying, landing punch after punch, each one dodged by Lokius, who swiped back with sharp claws. Every strike met a counter and neither gave an inch.Meanwhile, Roselia flung a long string of flowers toward Vienna, twisting them tightly around her wrist. Arah watched Vienna summon her ability-link bangles back. One snapped onto her own neck and the other onto Roselia’s, gaining control over the flowers. A fresh string of flowers rose from the stage, lashing through the air like a whip across Roselia’s back, sending her to her knees, gasping.“Stop this, please!” Arah cried, voice cracking as she called their names in desperation. But they didn’t turn, didn’t even flinch. Rage twisted their faces. Whateve
GILDEONHis fire blade clashed violently against Vergilius’s cane, each strike lighting up the foggy churchyard. The scent of burning foliage filled the air as they crashed through twisted shrubs, igniting a nearby holy statue. Vergilius blocked and countered each hit, his strikes growing heavier, more forceful.Gildeon’s eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. Every clash sent a strange pulse up his blade, as if its energy was being siphoned. Vergilius’s strikes were gaining strength. His flames flickered, dimming as the cane sapped their intensity.“Already exhausted, salamander?” Vergilius taunted, dodging Gildeon’s last strike with ease. “What a shame. I expected more from you.”Vergilius attacked again, and Gildeon parried just in time. The elder vampire’s cane absorbed more of his fiery blade’s power, channeling it into himself.If this continued, Gildeon would be vulner
ARAHPlumber Paul was dead.Not even a month had passed since he’d walked into her shop and picked her Clover Wish for his first tattoo. She'd pitched that design as a lucky charm to her clients—just a gimmick of sorts. So imagine her surprise when Paul’s wish to win the lottery actually came true days later.Now, he was gone. Just like that. It wasn’t because of her tattoo, of course. But with that last memory of him, how could she ever look at her Clover Wish and call it lucky again?Her eyes drifted down to Barky, who was happily munching on his dog food. She squatted next to him, stroking his back and twirling her fingers through his soft brown fur. At least she had this big guy to cheer her up.The bathroom door creaked open. She glanced up to see Gildeon strolling down the hallway in black sweatpants, rubbing his dark hair with a towel. She’d seen him naked plenty of times, but each time, his perfectly sculpted body drew her gaze like a moth to a flame. The way his muscles flexe
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