The air in the cavern, Conan’s hideout; was heavy with the scent of damp stone and burning torches. Raven sat at the end of the war table alone, her fingers brushing the edges of the map laid out before her. The symbols seemed to dance under the flickering light, their meanings almost close yet frustratingly difficult to grasp.Her mind replaying Conan’s annoying words: “You’d better hope you do. Because if you don’t, Raven; you’ll wish I’d abandoned you instead.”Raven stared at the ancient map in her hands, frustration bubbling up inside her. The wornout lines and strange symbols on the map seemed to mock her as if daring her to uncover their secrets. She hated riddles with a passion, and this one felt particularly cruel. Every twist and turn of the map carried the weight of life and death, one wrong move, and everything could fall apart. Her heart pounded as she realized the stakes. This wasn’t just a game or a puzzle; it was a test, and failure wasn’t an option. Her instincts told
The only sound in her chamber now was the faint crackling of the dying fire, and the silence was oppressive. Lycia sat slowly on the bed's edge, her mind churning with many ideas. As a reminder that she had once again been made to do something she didn't want to do, the food in her stomach churned awkwardly. She detested him for manipulating her will and giving the impression that she didn't own herself, unlike him. She detested the fear that was tearing at her chest more than anything else. The door creaked open once more, but this time it wasn’t the sound of a servant or a guard coming to give her food; it was him. This time, there was no food tray or any attempt to act polite. This time, things were going to be different. He wasn’t here to play along with her rules, tiptoe around the issue, or leave her wondering what he meant. He was here to take control and make everything crystal clear. His intentions were clear in the sharpness of his movements, as he walked in to the room, wi
With Cove's icy rejection still fresh in Morrigana’s memory, Morrigana was furious as she exited the big hall. She was angry because Cove was becoming more and more fixated with the so called thief, Lycia. His sudden obsession with the thief, Lycia, was growing by the day, and it made her more infuriated. She couldn’t understand what made this girl so special or why Cove seemed to be so reluctant to deal with her as he would any other intruder. She was baffled by the girl’s ability to stir something in Cove, something that made him hesitant, something that Morrigana had never seen before. It wasn’t just Lycia’s skill or her audacity; there was something about Lycia that had thrown Cove off balance, and Morrigana hated it. To her, Lycia was nothing but a distraction to her plans, a frightened thief. Yet somehow, she had managed to wedge herself into a place no one else had dared to occupy, one she has been trying to occupy for years.As she stalked through the dark hallways, her boots
The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, as if the air itself was charged. Lycia and Morrigana stood motionless, their eyes wide, each of them unsure of what would happen next. The sound of Cove's powerful voice thundered through the room, loud enough to cut through the noise around them, sharp and commanding. His gaze shifted quickly from Morrigana to Lycia, his face a mix of rage, confusion, and an emotion that almost seemed like he was worried. It was as though he was trying to understand what was going on, torn between his anger and the deeper concern he felt."What do you think you're doing, Morrigana?" Cove shouted, his tone was sharp and commanding as he marched toward her. His eyes locked onto Morrigana’s, burning with a mixture of fury and disbelief. The sight of Lycia, her face wet with tears, and the broken chains that was scattered on the floor only seemed to make him angrier. Instead of feeling sympathy or calming down, the scene only added fuel to the fire of h
Lycia sat on the cold stone floor of the dim room, her back pressed against the rough walls, her body trembling from exhaustion. Her muscles aching, and the bruises that Morrigana had left on her skin pulsed with pain, a constant reminder of the pain she had just endured. But the physical pain wasn’t what hurt the most. It was the emptiness she felt inside, the helplessness, and the overwhelming sense of failure. Her mind would not stop racing, pulling her back to the beginning. To the moments that led her here, locked away in this strange, dark world. How could she have been so blind? How could she have believed that this could work? Every lie, every betrayal, replayed in her mind, like a broken record that would not stop spinning.And then there was Morrigana, the one person responsible for the pain she was going through. Lycia’s breath broke as she thought about the bitter words, the cold eyes that had watched her, trapping her in this miserable place. Morrigana’s torture had bro
Raven’s voice had that same smooth, confident tone it always had, when she showed up at Lycia’s door that night. The moonlight outlined her figure, making her look as sharp and as imposing as ever. “Still living in this dump I see?" she sneered, her lips twisting into that smug, self-satisfied grin that made Lycia’s blood boil every time she saw it.Lycia’s breath caught in her throat, and her chest tightened as a wave of resentment started to build up inside of her. It was like a sharp, jagged pain, and it felt impossible for her to ignore. The anger and frustration that had built up, lingered just beneath the surface, threatening to break free. There she was, Raven. The woman who had once held her heart with such tender ease, only to crush it as if it had never mattered. Raven had always been like that; elegant, untouchable, and effortlessly in control, as if she moved in a world above Lycia’s understanding. Lycia had spent years trying to claw her way out of Raven’s dark and shado
And as Raven’s figure disappeared into the night, Lycia braced herself for what came next.They met the next night in an old, abandoned warehouse. The place smelled of rust and rot, and every step she took seemed to echo loudly, breaking the heavy, eerie stillness around her. A single bulb dangled from the ceiling, fluctuating, going on and off, and making the shadows on the cracked walls dance and shift. The atmosphere felt uneasy, as though the building itself held secrets of its own. Lycia stood by a worn out, unsteady table, carefully laying out the blueprints of Deveraux mansion. Her hands moved with surprising calmness, even though her mind was filled with lots doubt and worry.That morning, Jack had been in a much worse state. His coughs were sounding deeper and harsher, like they were coming from somewhere deep inside his chest, and his face was pale and tired, with dark circles under his eyes, a clear sign of exhaustion and sleepless nights.Lycia had stayed by his side for a
The room was dimly lit, with a single candle flickering on a nearby table, its unsteady glow created dancing shadows on the rough stone walls. Morrigana stood by the tall, arched window, her arms folded tightly across her chest, as if she was trying to contain the storm of emotions brewing inside of her. The moonlight filtered through the glass window, softly illuminating her sharp features, making her expression seem even colder.Outside, the pack’s territory stretched out before her, quiet and still, but it was a false sense of peace. The day had been full of chaos, and though everything now seemed calm, she knew it wouldn’t last. Something about that calm felt wrong, like the silence before a storm.Her fingers were tapping steadily against her arm, the sound soft but constant, a reflection of the storm that was raging in her mind. Thoughts twisted and turned, spiraling endlessly like a wheel she couldn’t stop. She hated this particular feeling, like this growing unease that clung
The whispers began before sleep had fully claimed her.Soft. Insidious. A voice neither of this world nor the next.Lycia stirred, but her body was no longer her own. Her feet moved, silent as the shadows, drawn to the unseen call.After what seemed like a long discussion with Cove, she finally retired to what used to be her prison. Sleep pulled her under like an unseen tide, dragging her into darkness.But this was no ordinary slumber.A whisper floated through the air; soft, ethereal, curling around her ears like a lover’s breath. A chill ran down her spine. Then another, layered upon the first, overlapping and weaving together like ghostly fingers brushing against her skin.She shuddered.Lycia’s breath hitched. Something felt wrong. The room seemed colder than before, the silence too absolute. Was she dreaming? Or awake?Then, the whisper changed.More insistent. More urgent.“Move!.” It whispered.Her fingers twitched. Her heart pounded. The air around her felt thick, heavy, char
Taking a shaky breath, she decided to tell him the truth; at least part of it."I needed the money," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "I didn’t care about the map or what it meant. I only took the job because Raven said it would pay well. I was desperate."Cove’s expression remained unreadable, but he didn’t interrupt, so she continued."I wanted to get out of Crimson City. I’ve spent my whole life scraping by, running from one bad situation to another. And I had someone to take care of; Jack. He’s sick, dying. I needed the money to help him too."That statement shocked Cove, but it was gone before she could place it."So you risked everything for a man who’s dying?" he asked, his voice lacking its usual sharpness.Lycia nodded. "I couldn’t just leave him to suffer. He’s the only family I have left. I never knew anything about the Bloodmoon Amulet, or why the map was so important. I just needed enough to disappear, to take Jack somewhere safe before it was too late."She met Cove’
Lycia’s breath was shallow as she pressed against the cold stone walls of her prison, her mind racing. Cove stood before her, the dim torchlight flickering across his sharp features, casting shadows that made him look even more menacing. He was too close—too still. And his silence was far worse than any words.Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she forced herself to hold his gaze. "What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.Cove tilted his head slightly, studying her like a puzzle he was slowly piecing together. Then, in one fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, his hand pressing against the wall beside her head. The air shifted, charged, and for a moment, it wasn’t just fear that made her breath hitch."You tell me, thief," he murmured, his voice smooth, dangerous. "Why would someone like you risk everything for a map you claim to know nothing about?"She swallowed hard, her body betraying her with a shiver. "I… I didn’t know its worth. It
Her lungs burned as she pushed forward, every instinct screaming at her to run faster. But she could hear them behind her. The snarls, the pounding of paws against the earth. Panic shot through her veins like fire. Her lungs burned as she sprinted through the trees, her legs screaming in protest. She had no plan, just blind, desperate instinct gushing through her."Run, Lycia! Just run!" she choked out, her voice breaking with desperation.Behind her, the heavy pounding of boots and paws tore through the ground. They were closing in. They were faster. Stronger. They would catch her.No. No, she couldn’t let them.Lycia’s foot caught on an exposed root, twisting violently beneath her. A sharp burst of pain shot up her leg as she crashed to the ground, her palms scraping against the rough earth. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, leaving her gasping, her body trembling from exhaustion and fear.She forced herself up, her vision blurring as she stumbled forward. But it was to
(A dark clearing. The scent of damp earth and blood. Raven waits, perched on a fallen log, silver glinting in her fingers. The moonlight filters through the trees, casting long, jagged shadows.)Doyle emerged from the darkness, moving soundlessly, the night wrapping around him like a second skin.“It’s done,” he assured Raven.Raven barely looked up, twirling a silver coin between her fingers. “And?”Doyle exhaled. “They have an intruder. I am guessing you have something to do with it based on the last time.” He enquired“But they have her imprisoned.” Raven's brows furrowed, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. Concern? No, impossible. Her expression hardened again. “And the estate?” Raven asked.Doyle leaned against a tree, crossing his arms. “Cove’s doubling security. He’s got Lucas and other lycans scrambling to reinforce his estate. The underground vault still remains the weakest as usual. But from my observations, it sees rotations every two hours, now they’ve a
The scent of blood lingered in the air, thick and unshaken by the cold night breeze. The distant hoot of an owl was the only sound breaking the eerie silence. Conan stood near the charred remains of a fire his companions and he had set; his grip firm on the hilt of his dagger. His men had searched the perimeter; nothing but shadows and silence. Yet, something still felt wrong. Then, he heard some sounds, and saw movements too. The figure dashed through the trees, the barest rustle of leaves. Footsteps, controlled but purposeful. Someone was coming. Not creeping. Not running. Just… walking. Conan’s grip tightened. He thought; fool’s mistake. No one approached his territory so brazenly unless they wanted to die. He didn’t hesitate. With a sharp inhale, he lunged into the darkness, his dagger flashing in the moonlight. His instincts guided him; three steps forward, a pivot, a precise slash aimed at the intruder’s throat. But the stranger moved just as fast. A hand snapped up,
An underground chamber was thick with tension. Fires from torches lit flickering lights against the hard stone walls, casting long shadows over the gathered wolves. Derek sat at the head of the room, his fingers lazily tapping the handle of his throne, as he observed the faces before him.To his right, Ronan stood stiffly, his broad frame exuding quiet authority. He had been Derek’s second for years, the only one he trusted to speak plainly. To his left, lounging on a makeshift throne of stone, was Melissa; the Mistress of Shadows, as some called her.Beautiful, deadly, and utterly unreadable.She stretched, her dark silky hair cascading over one shoulder as she spoke to Derek with amusement.“You actually want to work with Conan?” Her voice was like honey, smooth and mocking.“Darling, that man would rather slit your throat than shake your hands with you.”Derek smirked. “Maybe. But he wants Cove dead more than he wants me dead.”Ronan exhaled sharply. “That’s a dangerous bet Alpha D
“She’s dangerous,” Morrigana said flatly.“We already know that,” Lucas, Cove’s Beta sighed, “No!” she snapped, her eyes darkening. “Not like that.”Lucas studied her. “Then explain.”Morrigana’s fingers drummed against the wooden table. “Few days ago, I went to her prison, you know to do my job; interrogate her, get information.”“So?” Lucas frowned, rolling his eyes in exasperation.She leaned forward. “Have you ever wondered how she got out of the chains, how it broke?”“Morrigana get to the point. Alpha Cove seeks my presence”Morrigana exhaled. “Ok, fine… I was there. She had this surge… this power surge. The chains shattered all of a sudden, and I was thrown back like I weighed nothing.”There was brief silence, but Lucas broke it.Lucas skeptical but unsettled. “What are you talking about, Morrigana. She’s human.”“No, she’s not,” Morrigana snapped back, shaking her head. “She’s… something else.” She hesitated, choosing her next words carefully. “I think she’s a witch.” She f
The first wolf lunged towards Conan.Raven barely had time to react before Conan moved. His body twisted, avoiding the wolf’s snapping jaws by an inch. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the dagger strapped to his thigh and plunged it deep into the werewolves’ ribs. Causing the werewolf to let out a strangled yelp, that echoed through the trees as the beast collapsed, squealing for help in the damp, moonlit clearing.But the others didn’t hesitate.Two more lone wolves sprang forward, their eyes blazing with hunger. There was no plan in their attack, only pure, reckless desperation. Unlike pack wolves, they weren’t bound by loyalty or strategy. They fought for survival alone, driven by nothing but raw bloodlust.Conan turned sharply, ready to face them head on. The first wolf lunged for Conan’s arm, its jaws snapping, but he moved fast, twisting himself out of reach and slicing deep into its side. The beast let out a pained yelp, stumbling back. The second wolf barely had a chance to rea