Chaister’s POV “Is this the price you are willing to pay?” The ba.stard asked brazenly with the light, covert smirk he so desperately tried to suppress. I pulled Nahevra–the stupid cock socket, for her sleeve, and we moved a few steps aside as soon as Leraithe, the trickster dickhead dared to utter those words. “Oi, If the thought of sacrificing…MY…son… crossed your mind for even a second, I swear, this will be the last thought that ever crossed your mind, you bloody slag!” I gritted the threat through my teeth, hoping my muttered tone was low enough to prevent Leraithe from hearing us. I am warning you, you clapped slapper; if a hair falls off Meeran’s head, I will send my beasts to sh,ag every fucking cesspit-like hole of sweet little Maree’s body until they don’t blast her with the co,cks. And tell you what, I will make you and little Lev watch it before I dig his eyes out and strangle him in front of you. Be aware though bitch; I will not kill you aft
Lev’s POV Do you agree, little Angelev!?” She asked me, and I could feel the change in her aura. She seemed sad and worried. I just nodded as I lost all the confidence I had seconds ago. I was paralysed with the fright. The last thing I saw was the gloomy and dark inside of the banned spell room. The room looked dark, old, cold and scary. Whenever we passed by, Maree would remind me that I must not enter it, and I would always imagine what it was behind those doors. I imagine it to be small and crammed with grimoires, magic herbs, spices, and some mystery stuff. And these were the things that were indeed hoarded here, but the room was as big as the playground for the Olympic Games. Every dull and dark corner, nook and crevice of the room appeared filled with mystic, occult, twisted and nightmarish omens of a fairy tale gone wrong. The walls would seem to loom and lean inwards, painted in dark hues that swallow the light and cast eerie shadows in every corner. Some fu
Erzelus’s POV I looked at the dreaded, infamous Macabantran cells and their central arena, which once stood as a symbol of power, control and malice of Macabantrah and Wengarthria. These ancient dungeons are in the heart of the seventh circle of hell, a place feared by all. These dungeons are now saturated with a melee of trampled and desecrated carcasses of fallen demons, which were lying scattered and mutilated across the arena. The stench of sweat and death was suffocating while blood poured from every little corner as if someone had opened the tap. The arena where I stood enslaved by Nahevra just moments ago. The arena where she pitched me to fight against Kandreah. The arena where she commanded him to turn me into a hybrid of celestial, human Lycan and vampire, aiming to make me the greater monster than I already am. The arena where I almost lost a fight against Meeran. That would be the first fight I ever lost, although I have been through thick and thin all my life while
Aralyn's POV My story began with love between Malleteagan and Larissa, my parents, which somehow evolved into a never-ending hatred and Malleteagan’s desire for death. Mine death and that of my mother. It is a dark, misty night. Mid-autumn rain sticks on my dirty and torn clothes, mixing with mud, leaves, and branches we picked up while grazing through the forest. Brushes, stems, and trees cut through my clothes and expose my skin even more. My lungs burn from exhaustion, and sweat breaks out in big lumps. I am out of breath and have difficulty picking up the pace with my mother. If she weren't holding my hand, I would fall behind. I would fall directly into the merciless jaws of our predator, Malleteagan. My mother was outsmarting him for years by running away from him and from his desire for our blood. We have been running since the day I was born. No, strike that, since the day I was conceived, as my mother told me. He was always on our tails, despite my mother being a de
Aralyn’s POV While failing to learn from my past mistakes, I glanced back again quickly, and I saw my mother's shadows projected out of her body while my father was in his Lycan form. His Lycan looked like your worst nightmare, like the beast that came straight out of the ninth circle of the inferno. A bear-sized, massive, two-legged monster that looked like an enraged, sadistic, homicidal wolf on a hunt. His obsidian fur glistened blindingly in the hazy night as he shifted before my mother. If the reason for his shift weren't so daunting, just looking at the shine of his fur would make one mesmerised. The only light point on the deadly mass of charcoal black fur were his eyes, now radiating between neon grey and glacier white. The beast before us was truly magnificent and beautiful. Scrap that, nothing beautiful in here, I thought to myself next second when I saw his dragon-like fangs dripping foamy saliva, snarling and snapping towards mother rabidly. He looked monstrous, mur
Aralyn’s POV Suddenly, the forest was encased in dreadful, ominous silence. And then I felt it. My mother died. The only sound I could hear was my breath and his eerie footsteps as he quickly approached his next target - me. My breath, his footsteps and my faltering heartbeat, as my strength was ebbing again. I felt like I was on my deathbed, grasping for the last atoms of my being. Like a cadaver-to-be taking its last breath before demise. And then, out of nowhere, I felt my heartbeat again, rejuvenated somehow, but now it felt as if my heart was down to my heels. My heart was beating so loudly that it felt like the beat of my heart would burst my ears. And it increased every second of my desperate attempt to escape my executioner…my father. He wants me dead; that was clear as a day. That sudden surge of unknown energy crawled, slivered, and transferred into me as if giving me a new lifeline. And then it came. Darkness. A pitch-black pit that I started to fall into encompassed
Aralyn’s POV Oh fuck, forget what I said. I prefer to slowly die of starvation in the desert rather than have this beast disfigure me. That way, I would have at least a slim chance of survival. Even if I had a bit more energy to try to summon some of the mothers' power, there was no way that I could fight this Sasquatch, mammoth-sized, two-legged, wolf-like demon. Let alone the fact that I am a twelve-year-old girl on the run from the experienced, original, first Lycan king who went through centuries of training and battles. Well, Aralyn, make a death wish, say goodbye to the world, and pray that daddy dearest gives you a quick and at least somewhat painless death. I closed my eyes and expected squelching sounds, blood cracks, pain and death. I even pictured him dismembering my head from my neck with his fangs, ripping off my heart with his bare hands. Same as he did to my mum. The pain and demise were palpable. But that never happened. Instead, I heard a roar of fury in th
Where is Sentaya? She promised to cloak and protect me, and she did so for over five years. How did he find me? Did he already spot me? Shall I run? An unknown voice in my head reassured me that he could not see me because of the cloaking spell, but I was still scared shitless. My instinct told me to run. "He does not see you. Stay put. If you run, you will expose yourself with movement and your scent," the voice reassured me."Who to fuck are you?" I asked the voice."You will find out soon, when the time comes. For now, all you need to know is that you must stay put if you want to survive," the voice echoed in my mind. "Fuck, I hear voices. Am I ok, or have I gone mad?" I chuckled to myself. I glanced back to the army of carnivores. Their agenda is to find me and execute me. That much is clear. Fear rippled through my very essence and spread across my body like a plague."Are you fucking mad?! Even if they can’t see you because of the cloaking spell, they will feel your fear, so put