Hades, The scent of baked coffee mixed with something unfamiliar hit my nose the moment I stepped into the old boutique. The dim lighting cast shadows over the wooden furniture, and porcelain dolls lined the shelves, their empty eyes watching in silence. To the untrained eye, this place might seem like nothing more than an antique shop, but I knew better. Something in the air felt ancient. Powerful. As I scanned the room, footsteps approached. An old man… sixty years old, left leg injured. I didn’t turn immediately, letting the presence behind me settle. The scent of age and faint traces of medicine clung to the air around him, blending with the wood and dust of the shop. "Welcome," a frail voice greeted. Slowly, I turned to see him leaning on a cane, his posture slightly bent with age. Despite his weak frame, there was a sharpness in his gaze, a knowing glint that told me he wasn’t just an ordinary shopkeeper. He studied me, taking in my presence with a look of mil
The old man’s directions had led me here, to the outskirts of the city, to a place where time seemed to have withered into the past. The road twisted, narrow and cracked, winding through an oppressive silence that felt thick enough to touch. The air itself grew colder as I approached, charged with an energy that had long been dormant in the world of the living.And then I saw it—the chapel.It was a shadow of its former self, standing on the edge of the world, as if forgotten by both man and God. The doors, once grand, now hung ajar, groaning as they protested against the intrusion of time. A sense of foreboding filled the air, thickening with each step I took toward it.I pushed the door open, the rusted hinges screeching in protest, and entered.The chapel was empty, save for the remnants of a faith that had long since abandoned this place. The candles, barely flickering, cast long shadows on the walls. The altar stood broken, cracked stone and stained glass that had lost its color.
The moment I stepped through the door, the air shifted. It wasn’t just colder—it was heavier, charged with something ancient and unseen. The dim candlelight behind me flickered once before vanishing, swallowed by the thick, unnatural darkness stretching before me. The scent of old parchment and damp stone filled my lungs as I moved forward, my steps echoing against the unseen walls. My eyes adjusted to the shadows, though there was little to see. A narrow corridor stretched ahead, leading deeper into whatever cursed place Zvor-Arok had hidden The Knowledge. I didn’t hesitate. The door behind me sealed shut with a quiet thud, but I didn’t turn back. I had no intention of retreating. Then, a voice. Soft. Feminine. But it wasn’t Zvor-Arok’s. "You shouldn’t be here."I stopped. My fingers twitched at my sides, ready for an attack. "Who’s there?" I demanded, my voice steady. Silence. A trick, then. I wasn’t foolish enough to be rattled by whispers in the dark. I continu
I walked in behind her, my steps measured, but steady. The woman in front of me seemed to hold herself together with sheer force of will. Yet, despite her composed appearance, I could sense the faint tremor of her nerves. She hadn’t expected this. That much was obvious. She had been guarding something she didn’t understand, and now, as she led me deeper into the unknown, her fear was becoming palpable. It lingered in the air between us, thickening with every step. The corridor grew narrower as we moved forward, the walls lined with stone that seemed to absorb the light, making the passage darker with each moment. The woman began to cough, the sound harsh in the stillness. Her breath quickened, and she clutched her chest, as if the air itself was becoming too heavy for her to breathe.I didn’t pause. I didn’t care about her discomfort. Elysia would be waiting for me back home. I had no intention of wasting time here, nor did I care for whatever mystery this place held. I had come
Elysia,Elaine, an office worker, had moved into a small cottage nearby. Although it raised many questions, I decided not to dwell on it. People here had no idea about our true identity. As I poured coffee into her cup, her voice filled the room with an endless stream of conversation. She seemed talkative, but I listened patiently, keeping my responses minimal. “Mommy! Mommy, I’m done with my homework!” A bright voice interrupted Elaine, and I turned just in time to see Ruby dashing out of her room, her small feet tapping against the floor. She ran toward me, excitement shining in her crimson eyes, and without hesitation, jumped into my arms. “Slowly!” I chuckled as I caught her effortlessly, wrapping her in a firm but gentle embrace. She grinned, holding up her notebook proudly. “Look at this! I finished my homework!” I took a quick glance at her work before placing a kiss on her forehead. “You did great, sweetheart.” Elaine’s eyes widened slightly as she observed Ruby.
Hades,"You… you are the Vampire King!" The woman’s voice trembled slightly, a mixture of disbelief and awe flickering in her widened eyes. She took a step back, her gaze darting across my form as I shifted into my true appearance. "Why are you here for an incomplete book instead of staying in your own realm?" she asked, her tone carrying a hint of judgment. I barely spared her a glance. "I don’t think I owe you an explanation." Without hesitation, I reached down and lifted the creature off the ground as though it weighed nothing. It dangled helplessly in my grip, its body limp, its form flickering between human and something else. The woman’s expression darkened for an instant before she snapped her fingers. Immediately, the room around us shifted—candles flared to life, their flames flickering with an eerie glow, while ancient lamps along the walls bathed the space in a dim golden light. Shadows danced across the stone floor, stretching and shifting as if they were alive
The moment the burning pain seared through my neck, I knew something had happened to Elysia. It wasn’t a normal discomfort—it was a visceral, gut-wrenching sensation, like something had ripped through the bond that connected us. My chest tightened as my instincts roared in warning. I turned sharply to the shape-shifter, who was still staring at me with wide, confused eyes. "Follow me. Now." My voice left no room for hesitation. He nodded quickly, sensing the urgency in my tone. I didn’t spare Claire another glance. She might have been lying about her identity, but right now, she was the least of my concerns. Without wasting another second, I summoned my powers, reaching into the void of darkness. The air around me crackled as shadows coiled at my feet, stretching and twisting like living entities. Then, with a sharp command, the shadows expanded, engulfing both me and the shape-shifter. The world around us blurred. Then, in a heartbeat, we were gone. ---The moment I mater
Ruby,Dragons are intelligent creatures. Mommy told me that. Our brains develop faster than any other species. We learn things quickly—how to speak, how to understand, how to protect. But the most important thing dragons know is that we must do anything to protect our mothers and children. Mommy said I was born six months ago, but I was with my birth mother for a long time before that. My brain grew faster than my body, but I was still a baby. I was studying every day to understand my Mommy better. Mommy said studying would help me grow up faster, and I wanted to grow up soon. I wanted to be big and strong so I could protect Mommy forever. Today, a lady came to our house. She talked a lot, too much. Mommy looked uncomfortable with her. She didn’t like the lady, but she was kind. She listened and stayed patient. Mommy was a good Mommy. She never hurt people unless they were bad. But something was strange. Usually, I could smell everything—blood, food, even the change in people’s
He had Two different colors like Hades had. But before I could ask, the color changed. And, The fortress shook violently. I didn’t know what to expect.The roots, those monstrous, writhing tendrils of darkness, seemed to be multiplying with each passing second. The air was thick with dread, suffocating, as if the fortress itself were alive, breathing down on us, caging us in. I could feel the walls closing in, the air getting heavier.Bryan didn’t wait. He moved, swift and deadly, like a shadow. The shimmering blade in his hand cut through the chaos around us, the magic crackling with energy, searing the air. Sparks flew in every direction, the sound of blades slicing through the air mingling with the guttural growls of the creatures encircling us.I watched him for a split second, too transfixed by his movement—his grace, his power—before I forced myself to snap out of it.Focus.I drew my dagger, its cold metal steady in my grip, though my hands trembled slightly. The trembling ha
Elysia,Within ten seconds, we were no longer in the dark chamber that held the Breath of the Dark Stone. The moment we inhaled it, everything shifted. Now, we stood before an enormous fortress, its towering walls strangled by thick vines of thornbane—a plant I recognized instantly. Black thorns curled outward like claws, and tongue-shaped violet blossoms swayed as if breathing. The very air felt hostile.The burning sensation in our throats had dulled, but the aftertaste of magic lingered like smoke in our lungs. We didn’t know how we got here, but it was clear—this place was nowhere near safe.Thornbane. Poisonous. Paralyzing. Hallucinogenic.I remembered its profile from Grandma Aurora’s herb book. One brush of its thorns could freeze the lungs, make you hallucinate until your heart gave out. People didn’t survive thornbane. It survived them.I scanned the environment, instincts prickling. Bryan stood beside me, silent, his face turned toward the fortress that looked like it had be
Elysia, When they dragged me through the castle corridor, I expected shackles. Maybe a blade to my throat. At the very least, a magical seal to silence me. Like that wizard threw a flaming arrow towards me. But instead, they gave me to him.Bryan Archerys.The infamous Archerys. From the knowledge I could gather, Bryan Archerys was the Master of the Wizards in the borderline town. One of the strongest and perverted Man. I thought I would have to show my real identity to escape. I hadn’t known what to expect—rumors were like poisoned honey in the wind, each whisper sweeter and more lethal than the last. But nothing could’ve prepared me for that room, or him.His presence was a thick shadow. The kind that clung to your bones even after you left the room. When our eyes first met, something deep inside me recoiled. It wasn’t fear, exactly. It was… something older. Something rooted.And now, as we rode together through the blackened woods toward the Dark Stone, that shadow rode with me.
The room was dim, a flickering flame from the lone candle casting tall shadows across the stone walls. My boots echoed heavily as I stepped toward the girl sprawled on the floor, her wrists scraped, hair a tangled mess of dark silk, her gaze never once dropping. She looked at me with the kind of defiance that irritated me—yet also intrigued. She reminded me of Elysia. When I first met Elysia, she had that expression. She didn’t cower. Didn’t cry. Just stared. She was too young to be this brave. She could definitely feel the pressure around her. Yet, her eyes told - I don't give a fuck about the situation I am in. “Your name,” I said flatly, scanning her. If she proved useful, I might use her to find my woman. She tilted her head, amused more than alarmed. “I don’t remember.” Her voice was soft, low, but calculated. Lying. “Where are you from?” I asked, crouching in front of her. Not too close. Just enough to catch the slight shift in her pupils. She blinked, slow and steady,
The first thing I did was call the Moon Goddess.It had been ages since I last summoned her—centuries, perhaps—ever since I turned my back on divinity and walked away from the ruins of a kingdom that once knelt at my feet. I had withdrawn from politics, from divine counsel, from everything that demanded reverence and strategy. My hands had spilled too much blood in the name of purpose. I had no room left for another cause.But this was different.Elysia had vanished. Her scent, her presence, the lingering burn of her spirit in the air—it had all dissolved like dew in sunlight. One moment, she had been beneath me, breathing, fighting, breaking. The next, nothing.I needed to know where she was.The sky above my mountain burned a cold silver as I climbed the summit. This place, once a holy site, had not been visited by a soul in decades. Stones cracked under my boots as I stepped into the ancient circle carved from obsidian and bone. The crescent glyphs glowed faintly at my touch, still
Hades,One thing I had forgotten when I was searching for her in my study was the distinct scent of holy magic. It was faint, barely there, like the remnants of a dream, but unmistakable for someone like me. That kind of scent only lingered in places blessed or touched by divinity—like when one stands before the Moon Goddess herself and dares to have a physical conversation. That scent didn't belong in my study. It had no reason to be there.At first, I didn’t give it much thought. It was so light, almost as if it had been carried by the wind and simply passed through. But as the hours slipped by, as my attempts to reach her were met with silence, as her presence faded like the warmth from a dying fire, that scent began to gnaw at my mind. The more unreachable she became, the worse the storm inside me grew. My heart, my soul, my Alpha wolf—every part of me was screaming. The desperation was unlike anything I had ever felt.Now, sitting in the room where Elysia had grown up, I realized
Elysia,Judging by the scent of dried hay, the feel of the rough wool blanket, and the rustic scent of firewood smoke that clung to every surface, one thing was certain—I was no longer in my own body. This was the fragile vessel of a seventeen-year-old human girl. My fingers, small and calloused, trembled slightly as I sat up, adjusting to the strange physicality of my new form.The village was called Druvo, nestled at the base of the Varkel Mountains. I remembered the name from the scrolls I once read in the Astral Archives, one of the books that held vivid information of mythical worlds that we never thought would exist. Druvo was known as the cursed village that bordered the Dark World—the realm ruled by wretched sorcerers and witches who had once brought entire kingdoms to their knees. Now, it seemed the people here lived in quiet terror, like deer hiding from wolves. There was hardly any sound, even during daylight. Conversations were hushed. Children did not laugh. And food… fo
Hades,The wind bit against my face as I stood at the edge of the Moonlit Silver Wolf Pack’s territory, holding Ruby close to my chest. Her small hands gripped the front of my shirt tightly, her cheek pressed against me. She hadn’t spoken much since that morning. Not after watching me panic, tear the house apart, and shout into every corner for someone who never replied. Three days.That was how long it had been since I last saw Elysia. Since she sat at the kitchen table like a statue and then vanished into silence and chaos. The note, the blackout footage, the missing documents—every second since had gnawed at my sanity. Now, here I was, seeking the only person I thought might have some answers.Gamma Celeriac stood at the packhouse entrance, tall and rigid like a mountain. His presence had always demanded respect. But now, his expression was unreadable, carved from stone. He hadn’t aged a day since I last saw him, but something in his eyes looked heavier, deeper—like he already kne
I felt a deep pit settle in my chest the moment I stepped out of the house three days ago. An inexplicable ache stirred within me, one I tried to suppress but couldn’t ignore. I felt bad—terrible, even—but I couldn't stay. Not when Hades was around. Not when every fiber of my being warned me that our destinies had already entangled and unraveled before. Our fate wasn’t fresh or new. It had already run its course in some forgotten past, tangled in blood and sacrifice.For some reason, in my previous life, despite everything that happened on that day—the day I stabbed him in the chest—I kept getting this strange, haunting feeling: Hades didn’t die. He should have, but he didn’t. Our mate bond had been severed, that much I was sure of. But still, he hadn’t died. My gut screamed that he lived. That maybe, just maybe, the two cloaked figures who drove their blades across my chest that day were somehow connected to Hades. Perhaps it had all been to sabotage Hecate’s grand design. To destro