A Flame in the Shadow

For a thousand years, the city of Crescent Falls has survived beneath the shadow of an ancient savior. Each century, a man is chosen as an offering to Sariyah-the being said to have once driven demons from the world. When Bastion, the man Ember loves, is taken after daring to refuse her, Ember's grief turns into defiance, and she vows to bring him home no matter the cost. Her search forces her into an uneasy alliance with Orion St. James, a dangerously charming immortal with a violent past and secrets tied to Sariyah herself. Bound together by a magic neither of them wants nor understands, Ember and Orion are drawn into a hidden war beneath the city-one involving cultists, monsters, and an ancient order known as the Watchers. As Crescent Falls begins to fracture, Ember experiences unsettling visions that hint her bloodline is far more entangled with Sariyah than anyone ever suspected. Strange new powers awaken within her, blurring the line between protector and destroyer, while enemies gather and old loyalties are tested. With the city on the brink of collapse and unseen forces moving in the shadows, Ember must decide how far she is willing to go to save Bastion-and whether becoming something darker is the only way to stop an evil that has ruled unchallenged for centuries. Because some thrones are not inherited. They are taken.

Chapters

Chapter 3

They say no one ever hears her arrive, but I did. I heard the hush of the wind change, the way the shadows twisted unnaturally along the stone path.

I kept my eyes on the road where the procession always came. No horses, no carriages, just shadows.

And then she came. Sariyah. Cloaked in starlight and silk. Shadows clung to her following her like a cape. Her face was ageless and beautiful in a way that hurt to look at. Her eyes were empty, black as ink, and her mouth curved into a smile that had a thousand screams.

"The tenth offering," she said, her voice laced with honey and leather. "I have come for him."

Bastion stepped forward before I could grab him. "You will not have me."

The world went silent. Even the flames of the torches stilled.

"You would deny me?" she questioned, tilting her head.

"I love Ember and I will not leave her." He said. "I choose her, not you."

I should have felt relief, I should have clung to him. But all I felt was dread. Sariyah didn't scream, she didn't argue. She only smiled wider.

"Then I suppose I must take you, willing or not." I didn't see her move. I only felt the way the world shifted, as if a door closed that never should have been opened.

Bastion vanished in a swirl of wind and shadow. In the silence he left behind a new shadow stepped out of the dark. He looked at me with silver eyes that burned like molten metal, his brown skin shimmering in the moonlight.

"Well," the stranger said. "That was dramatic."

The moment Bastion vanished, I felt something in me crack. Not snap, not shatter. Just... crack. A fine, jagged fault through the center of everything I had ever let myself believe was safe. A fault that felt ready to errupt at any moment.

One breathe, he was at my side, defiant, trembling, mine. The next he was gone. Swallowed by her shadows.

Sariyah didn't gloat. She didn't grin or whisper threats as she vanished into the mist. She just looked at me with those blank eyes like she had left a mark on my soul and didn't need to say a word to make it permanent.

Then she disappeared. In the echo of that silence I was left standing in the square, surrounded by stunned faces and unspoken horror, clutching a hollow in my chest where Bastion used to be.

My knees buckled, but I didnt fall. I couldn't, not in front of them. The priests dispersed quickly after the offering. Cowards in crimson robes, whispering prayers to the dark queen as if their hands weren't soaked in blood. No one looked at me. No one dared. I was the girl left behind. The one who couldn't save him.

I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could, trying to will this moment to be an awful dream. The next time I opened them I was no longer alone. A shadow stepped forward from the edge of the courtyard, boots silent on the stone. The torches flared, flickered, and then died. One by one.

He came out fo the dark like he belonged to it. His hair was ink black and cropped short to his scalp. His eyes glinting like polished steel. His coat was long black leather, fastened with obsidian clasps that pulsed with a sick kind of magic.

His presence was... wrong. Not like Sariyah's. Hers was cold and ancient seeming inevitable. His felt like a trap. One that was drawing me closer with every heartbeat.

"You really thought you could defy her and live?' His low voice purred. "Cute."

"Who the hell are you?" I asked my voice raw and barely able to sound more than a whisper.

He gave a mocking bow. "Orion St.James, at your service."

I looked past him, the entire square was empty now except for the ashes she left behind in the shape of sigils on the ground.

"I didn't ask for company." I snapped.

"Good, I'm not offering it."

I turned my back on him, but he didn't leave. He let the silence stretch like something sharp between us.

"So you must be Ember Morrigan the girl bastion was willing to risk it all for? That worked out well for him didn't it?"

I didn't answer.

"You know, She will break him first. Mentally and physically. Then once he is completely broken, she will devour him."

"You dont know him," I snapped. "He will fight."

"Oh, I hope he does. It will be more entertaining that way."

I whirled back around, fire boiling in my stomach, rising into my throat. "Why are you here?"

He took a slow step toward me, head tilted like he was studying something behind my eyes. "Because I felt the ripple. Something cracked when she took him and youwere at the center of it."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fire you are trying to swallow." He said. "The kind that doesn't belog to mortals. Not really."

"I'm not-" I stopped, because something was rising. Something wrong.

The sigils Sariyah had made were left on the ground, drawn in ash. I stepped back into one without thinking. The wind shifted. A strange pressure wrapped around my ribs like a second heartbeat pulsing under my skin.

"Don't go in the-" Orion started, but it was too late. My foot crossed the line of the sigil. A sharp heat lanced through my body. I gasped, falling to my knees. The ground blazed with light, white and violet, and it burned.

Orion lunged forward, trying to pull me out. His hand closed around my wrist. The fire inside me exploded. There was no sound, just light and heat and shadow surging together in a violent dance. The sigil ignited. Runes etched in stone flared beneath us, and the energy between us cracked like thunder.

A tether of gold and black wound together, fire and shadow, latching from my chest to his. I screamed, he did too.

Then everything wnet still. The runes were gone. The sigil burned out. I collapsed into the ash, panting, my fingers scorched with glowing threads.

Orion staggered back, staring at his hand. "You idiot. Do you have any idea what you just did?"

"I didn't do anything." I coughed, the taste of ion in my mouth. "What- what was that?"

He looked at me as if I had just set the world on fire. "Binding magic. Ancient. Blood-forged and unbreakable. You and I just got tethered."

My heat stopped, but I could feel a steady beating. I knew instantly it wasn't my own. I could feel his heart beating. Not hear it, but feel it, like it lived inside of me now.

"Do you know what happens when a shadow-marked creature like me gets bound to a flame-born girl who doesn't know what the hell she is? Chaos. Lots of it."

I shook my head fear rising. "I don't have magic. I'm not-"

He stepped closer, eyes narrowed. "You have no idea what you have done. If you think you escaped the monster, you are wrong. You just bound yourself to one."

Continue to next part

Betrayed by his own family, Carrick Aurum Gale was left for dead. But death was only the beginning. Reborn with a powerful system, Erebus, Carrick rises from the ashes to reclaim his rightful place as the most powerful Mafia Lord. With ruthless determination and cunning strategy, he builds a new empire, the Zenith Family, and sets his sights on vengeance against those who wronged him. The streets will run red, allegiances will be tested, and the very foundations of power will be shaken. The boy who was once discarded will become the master of his own destiny. Witness the unrelenting ascent of Aurum Zenith, the Mafia Lord who will stop at nothing to claim his throne.

Action LitRPG Mafia Modern

9.2

He Chose Her Over Our Child

9.2

My world shattered twice. First, the ocean claimed my son. Then, the mountain road took another, a direct sacrifice to the man I loved and the woman he chose. In the hospital, beeps marked the emptiness where my second son used to be, echoing the first loss, both involving Holden and Giana. During the car crash, I was pinned, bleeding, and trapped. Holden, my partner, looked me in the eyes, then chose to save Giana, abandoning me and our unborn child. Soon, I overheard Holden praising Giana for turning our tragedy into a PR win. His hollow apologies and focus on Giana’s "miracle work" reignited the brutal memory of her push and his past denials. A decade of sacrificing my life and two children for a man who saw me as a liability left a bitter taste. His choice was clear; only profound abandonment remained. But this time, I was choosing me. From my profound loss, a dangerous spark ignited: I would not just survive; I would find freedom and make him pay.

Action Adventure Modern

8.6

Marrying His Rival: The Jilted Wife's Sweet Revenge

8.6

"Her blood type is a match. It’s the only option." I froze outside the conference room door, the quarterly reports digging into my ribs. I knew that voice. It was Ben, my husband’s best friend and doctor. But the next voice, cold and devoid of warmth, shattered my world. "Then we do it," my husband Ethan said. "Chloe cannot wait any longer. If Ava is the match, then Ava is the solution." For the past month, Ethan had been obsessed with my health, insisting on daily "vitamins" and endless checkups. He called it love. Standing in that hallway, I realized he was actually shopping for spare parts. "She is your wife, Ethan," Ben argued weakly. "You can't just harvest her like a crop." "She became my wife because she was useful," Ethan replied, his indifference cutting deeper than any scalpel. "Now, she can be useful for this." The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. The nausea I’d been feeling wasn't stress. I was pregnant. And those "vitamins" he fed me every morning? They weren't supplements. They were poisons designed to ensure I remained a viable donor. He was killing his own child to save his mistress. To him, I wasn't a partner. I was livestock. An asset to be liquidated for parts. I didn't burst into the room. I didn't scream. I walked away in silence, my hand hovering over my stomach. He wanted my kidney? He wanted to carve me up? I decided right then. I wouldn't just leave. I would terminate the pregnancy, fake my death, and burn his entire world to the ground.

Action Modern Romance

8.9

My Fiance's Betrayal, My Fiery Vengeance

8.9

My fiancé and my adopted sister framed me for burning down our Hamptons beach house. They had me declared insane and used a forged power of attorney to lock me away in a private facility for four years. While I was drugged, tortured, and systematically broken, they stole my company, my reputation, and my life. When I was finally released, they stood before me, dripping in the wealth they'd stolen. Kelly, my sister, even wore my mother's engagement ring, a glittering trophy on her finger. They saw a vacant, docile shell, not the woman who spent every waking moment meticulously planning their ruin. They thought they had extinguished the fire. At a party meant to celebrate their victory, Kelly held up a dog collar studded with cheap rhinestones. "Wear this," she cooed, "and you can have your mother's watch back." I dropped to my knees and barked. They thought it was my final, crushing humiliation; it was the beginning of their end.

Action Mystery Romance

7.3

My Stepbrother's Deadly Game of Love

7.3

I started a dangerous game to break my perfect, cold stepbrother, Hunter. Our forbidden affair became a secret inferno, and I thought I was the one in control, the one teaching him how to feel. Then an anonymous video arrived on my phone. It showed Hunter with a young intern, repeating our most intimate lines, my words, my lessons, verbatim. "Does this need to be taught, too?" he asked her, his voice a chilling echo of our past. He confessed it was all a calculated revenge plot against my mother. He left me to collapse in the street, sick and alone, and the car crash that followed shattered my legs, ending my ballet career forever. My love was a weapon he used to burn my world to the ground. My body was broken, my dreams turned to ash. I had lost everything to a man I thought I had broken, but who had instead destroyed me. But from the ashes, a new dream was born. I became a choreographer, my pain fueling my art. Now, years later, as I stand on the world stage, he watches from the shadows, a ghost consumed by a regret he can never atone for.

Action Mystery Romance

8.7

Signed Away: His New Wife

8.7

In my past life, I died alone in a sterile hospital bed while my fiancé, Dyllan, comforted his "foster sister" Heather through a fake panic attack. He missed the birth and death of our child because Heather was "too delicate" to be left alone. Even as I took my last breath, he was wiping away her crocodile tears, ignoring my desperate calls. I sacrificed my dreams, my money, and my life for him, only to be a forgotten footnote. But when I opened my eyes, I was back at the City Hall counter, the marriage license waiting. Dyllan tapped his foot impatiently, checking his phone. "Hurry up, Ivy. Heather called. She' s having an episode. She needs me." The old Ivy would have trembled and obeyed, desperate for his approval. But I just smiled, a cold, calculated expression he didn't recognize. "Go to her," I said, pushing him toward the door. "I'll handle the paperwork. Family comes first, right?" He rushed out without a backward glance, relieved to be the hero again. Left alone with the official document, I didn't write my own name on the bride's line. With a steady hand and a heart full of vengeance, I wrote Heather Rosales. Congratulations, Dyllan. You're legally married to the burden you love so much. And I am finally free.

Action Modern Romance

A Flame in the Shadow

Chapter 3

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