Aralyn’s POV-A few days after the Konneyard fall, just before the breakthrough of the Alliance army into Macabantrah- Somewhere in Nerzelis forest-“Again”, Nat said calmly, which frustrated me even more. Why is she so calm when I am annoyed, grumpy and frustrated to my wits end? Is this woman even able to raise her voice? She always talks like some enlightened priestess whatsoever. On the other hand, I am a whirlwind of emotions, spanning from rage to ecstatic excitement and happiness and then back to anger in a flicker of a second. And now, I am furious, frustrated and ready to chop off the heads. Maybe the mixture of Malleteagan, Noosha and Selene in me is at fault. They are all nutcases in their own right, if you ask me.“Gah, fuck it, I cannot do it, Nat! Forget it! We are not going anywhere! I am too stupid and incompetent to open it…” I yelled angrily and slumped on the ground in frustration. I wanted to throw myself off into a massive child-like tantrum, like a spoiled toddl
Omar’s POVThe battle imploded with fist fights, claw slashes, swirling currents of magical strikes, attacks and counterattacks, blood, sweat and corpses in the middle of the Macabantran fortress arena. I have never seen such a dreadful yet vast fortress. It was built of obsidian stone walls with veins of embers running through its interior.The floors were covered with brimstone and embers and saturated with the smell of sulphur, burnt flesh, death and decay. The warriors who had unfinished business, sins or unresolved conflicts in the world of living could not stand on the Macabantran grounds; we learned that the ground burned their feet and drained their life energy. Thersar quickly problem-solved this by casting a thin layer of magic on the ground. That, however, meant that he had to multitask as he commanded the Fae, fought, and used his magic to create armour. He seemed exhausted and worn out yet focused on the battle and determined to win it. This horrible castle-like arena hos
Erzelus’s POVWhen I managed to open the doors to Macabantran castle, everything seemed to be happening in a flash of light, and everything was in a blur. I was sucked into the Macabantran dungeons at a breakneck pace. The force of Nahevra’s command had such a strong pull on me that regardless of my attempt to resist and fight it, I was absorbed into dungeons at warp speed, like dirt into a sponge.I woke up in a cage. I was lying on the dirty floor, which was filled with rotten corpses, moulded food the corpses around me probably ate when they were alive, rotten remains, and dust of Wengarthria. I was naked and in my human form, smudged and dusted with crappy substances of soil and dust of Macabantran dungeons, tied with silver and wolfsbane. The stench of death and decay here is unbearable, more than in any other place we have visited in Wengarthria. The sound of the demons’ orgies somewhere adjacent blended with the cackles of those demons who were passing by my cell and mocking me
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