“Hello, Uncle!”Arthur’s eyes snap to Charlotte. As he takes in the woman standing before him, his eyes widen in disbelief and fear.As if he has seen a ghost, he scrambles to put as much as distance possible between them but ends up falling flat on his ass.Charlotte smirks, letting her teeth extend into canines and peek out of her mouth.Arthur starts sweating profusely. He looks at Azraiel and Katya for help but when they maintain a stone face, he realizes he is on his own.“Y-“ he gulps, “You are alive.” He trembles.Charlotte grins. The smell of his fear gives her immense satisfaction.“Yup.” She says popping the ‘p’. “I am alive, despite your schemes to get me killed.”Arthur’s face changes at the accusation.He regains his composure, or at least tries to.“I never wanted you dead, Charlotte. They wanted to kill you but I convinced them to let you leave the continent.” He says, his voice a little clearer than before.Charlotte’s eyes harden.“And that makes it alright?” Arthur v
The moon hung heavy and bloated in the ink-black sky, casting an eerie silver glow upon the desolate landscape below. Charlotte stood alone on the edge of a cliff, her heart pounding like thunder in her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps that misted in the frigid air. The wind howled mournfully, whipping her dark hair about her face in wild tendrils.But it wasn't just the weather that sent shivers down her spine—it was the figure standing before her, a twisted reflection of herself. Its eyes glowed with a feral light, glinting like shards of shattered glass in the moonlight. Its lips peeled back in a snarl, revealing gleaming, razor-sharp teeth that dripped with blood.Charlotte recoiled in horror, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was seeing. Was this truly her? Was this the monster that lurked within, waiting to be unleashed? The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, filling her with a bone-deep terror, unlike anything she had ever known.She tried to turn
Charlotte was stunned when Azraiel relayed the events that took place that evening. She knew she had a nightmare, but she had no idea that the said nightmare was about her.Of course, it was! Her wolf remarks.Smartass!She thought that she was a threat to everyone else, so she unknowingly cast a protection spell to contain herself within the half circle. It came as a relief that even when she wasn’t aware, she was wise enough to protect her pack. This eased her worries of becoming a danger to some extent.At least she is not trying to be dangerous on purpose.This incident forced her to face the truth. Her truth! She needs to know herself really well. So well, that she is aware of every being residing inside her and its capabilities and nature. To do nothing would be a gamble on the future. She is too smart to make that mistake.In their home, Azraiel and Charlotte quietly had dinner and went upstairs to the spare room. The damage in their room couldn’t be fixed right now so they d
Katya sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of her cabin, surrounded by stacks of dusty books and old journals. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and a hint of lavender, her mother’s favourite herb. Sunlight streamed in through the small, round window, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the particles of dust that danced in the air. She carefully opened one of her mother's old journals, its leather cover worn and soft from years of use.There was a sense of urgency driving her, a need to uncover something she had overlooked before. The memory of seeing that strange, cryptic language in the books belonging to Charlotte's mother had stirred something deep within her. It was the same language she had seen, long ago, in the margins of her mother's journals, but had never been able to understand. She still remembers sneaking into her mother’s room to steal her favourite lipstick from her bag but coming across a strange journal instead. The cover of that journal w
The air in the dungeon was thick and oppressive, laden with the scent of damp stone and old magic. Charlotte, her face pale and tense, kept a cautious distance, while Azraiel's stern gaze never wavered from the unconscious form of Arthur lying on the rough stone floor, all thanks to the sleeping medicine mixed in his food by Katya. Matt, his expression a mask of concern, stood protectively close to Charlotte, ready for anything.Azraiel’s voice broke the silence, a command wrapped in the velvet of his authority. "Katya.”That was enough to make her move. Previously, she had discovered to threads of magic on Arthur. When she told Azraiel about this, he asked her to look into the matter and discover who cast spells on Arthur.Katya nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She stepped forward, her hands trembling slightly as she knelt beside Arthur. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and began to chant the ancient incantation, her voice steady and resonant despite the turmoil within
Charlotte and Katya sat at a small, round mahogany table near the fireplace, its embers glowing faintly, providing a comforting warmth. The table was cluttered with the tools of their current endeavour: several old, leather-bound journals, yellowed with age, lay open alongside notebooks filled with their meticulous scribbles. A few reference books on ancient languages and a magnifying glass were also scattered across the table.Charlotte, with her black hair pulled back into a loose bun, leaned over one of the journals, her brow furrowed in concentration. She wore a simple yet elegant navy dress, her sleeves rolled up to avoid smudging the ink. Katya, sitting across from her, was equally focused. Her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she absently twirled a strand around her finger as she read. She wore a light blue blouse and jeans, her attire more casual but equally practical for their work.The room was filled with the quiet rustling of pages and the occasional murmured wor
Azraiel quietly steps into the house, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting a warm circle of light over the cluttered table. The scent of old books and fresh ink hangs in the air. Charlotte and Katya sit hunched over a spread of aged, leather-bound journals, their brows furrowed in concentration. The pages are filled with cryptic language, symbols and characters that twist and curl in an almost hypnotic dance. Beside the journals, a notepad lies open, filled with hastily scribbled notes and tentative translations.Katya's hair is pulled back into a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her intense expression. Her fingers trace the symbols delicately, as if afraid to smudge the ink. Charlotte leans closer to the pages, mouthing the unfamiliar words under her breath. A soft hum of concentration fills the room, punctuated only by the occasional scratch of a pen or the rustle of paper.He smiles a bit, remembering their first encounter in this very home. Back then, Charlotte was unaware
Matt was in his office completing the paperwork when Theo mindlinked him. " Matt, I can smell human scent from the northern border. You need to come here, fast." Matt quickly pushed the files aside and hurried down the corridor of packhouse. This is not good. Definitely not good. Werewolves are predators, wild creatures. They are hidden from the world under the shadows of forests and magic. Each pack territory is located far away from human land in the depths of never-ending forests and so was the Blue Orchid pack. With over 4000 werewolves the pack easily was the biggest and most dangerous one in Rysterbia. The territory stretched over acres of land far away from the human towns and was covered by magic to protect them from other supernaturals. Therefore, M