From Shattered Prodigy to Abyssal Vengeance
Elara Vex had everything-a flawless ice core, the title of prodigy, and a place at the pinnacle of the High Tower. But in one brutal night, it was all ripped away. Her mentor tore the core from her chest. Her fiancé drove a sword through her back. Her own sister smiled as she bled out on the cold marble floor.
When Elara wakes, she's years in the past, mere hours before her core is scheduled to be stolen. This time, she won't be anyone's sacrificial lamb. She shatters her own core with forbidden blood magic and forges something far more terrifying in its place-a bottomless, ravenous Chaos Core that devours magic itself.
Now, branded a worthless cripple and cast into the deadly Abyss, Elara is pulled from the darkness by the outcasts of Elysium Academy-a school for heretics, psychopaths, and everything the Tower despises. Under the tutelage of a reclusive principal who knew her murdered mother, Elara will master her forbidden power and uncover the Tower's darkest secrets.
When the Five Academies Ranking Tournament arrives, Seraphina Vex stands in the arena, draped in white saintess robes, ready to claim ultimate glory. She doesn't know that a ghost from her past has clawed her way back from hell. She doesn't know that Elara is coming-and this time, the prodigal sister isn't asking for mercy. She's bringing chaos.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 4
Leander's knuckles turned bone-white around the hilt of his sword. The blade shook slightly in the air between them.
"Elara, please," Leander whispered, his voice cracking. He wouldn't meet her eyes. "Just apologize to Master Silas. Beg for mercy. I can fix this."
Elara stared at the man she had once loved. A harsh, ugly sneer twisted her lips.
"You don't have a spine, Leander," she spat, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. "You're just a puppet on a string."
Leander's head snapped up. His face flushed a dark, angry red. His pride was his weakest point, and she had just driven a knife right through it. His grip on the sword tightened until his joints popped.
From the edge of the crowd, Seraphina's soft voice drifted over. "Leander, dragging this out only tortures her more. Be merciful. Make it quick."
Leander squeezed his eyes shut. He sucked in a sharp breath.
When his eyes opened, they were dead. The enchanted blade in his hand erupted with blinding, crackling blue lightning.
He swung.
The blade sliced cleanly into Elara's right shoulder. The lightning seared through her flesh, violently snapping the primary mana pathway connected to her collarbone.
The pain was apocalyptic.
Elara's vision went entirely white. A sickening crunch echoed in her own ears. She let out a choked grunt and collapsed onto one knee, the impact sending a shockwave up her shin.
Hot, wet blood immediately soaked through the fabric of her uniform. It dripped down her arm, pooling on the edge of the open abyss.
Leander ground his teeth together. He swung again. And again.
He slashed her left thigh, her right calf, and straight across her back. Every strike severed a major pathway. The lightning cauterized the edges of the wounds, trapping the agonizing heat deep inside her muscles.
Elara collapsed onto the marble floor. She looked like a discarded, bloody ragdoll. Her chest heaved with shallow, erratic breaths. But her eyes were wide open, staring a hole into the ceiling. She didn't let a single tear fall.
Some students in the front row turned their heads away, their stomachs turning at the sheer brutality. But most watched with cold, silent satisfaction.
Leander lowered his sword. He looked down at his blood-splattered boots, his chest heaving.
As he moved to sheathe his weapon, Elara saw it.
Out of the corner of her eye, Seraphina's index finger twitched. A minuscule, nearly invisible needle of compressed Light magic formed at her fingertip, perfectly camouflaged by the residual glare of Leander's lightning. It was a high-tier, traceless piercing spell, aimed directly at Elara's heart.
The chaos core in Elara's gut flared violently, sending a spike of pure adrenaline through her veins.
Using every last ounce of physical strength she had left, Elara threw her weight to the side, rolling half a foot across the bloody marble.
The needle of light shot past her heart and slammed into her left ribcage.
The spell blew a charred, smoking hole through her flesh, the traceless nature of the magic leaving no visible residue. The kinetic force of the impact lifted Elara off the ground and threw her backward.
No one in the crowd even blinked; Seraphina's execution was so utterly flawless and silent that it looked as though Elara's own battered body had simply given out under the agonizing strain of her severed pathways. Only Elara knew her sister had just tried to assassinate her in plain sight.
Elara hit the ground hard, skidding backward until half her body was hanging over the edge of the Stairway of Penance. The freezing wind whipped her hair around her face.
Professor Vance rushed forward, pretending to check if she was dead.
As he rushed forward, his boot caught on the slick, bloody marble. He stumbled, falling hard onto his knees beside her. Under the chaotic flurry of his wide robes and the sudden burst of a bright, blinding green diagnostic spell he cast to mask his movements, Elara felt his warm, trembling fingers shove a small, heavy glass vial deep into the leather of her boot.
"Live," Vance breathed, his voice barely a whisper.
Before he could say another word, a guard shoved Vance hard in the chest, knocking him backward.
Silas stood up. He flicked his wrist dismissively. "Finish it."
Two armored guards stepped up to the ledge. They lowered their long halberds, pressing the cold, flat metal against Elara's bleeding chest.
They shoved.
Leander's hand shot out on pure instinct. He lunged forward to grab her, but his fingers only closed around a torn, bloody piece of her sleeve.
Elara fell backward into the abyss.
She tumbled down the jagged stone steps, her body bouncing violently against the sharp rocks.
The heavy stone floor of the Judgment Hall slammed shut above her, plunging her into absolute, suffocating darkness.
Leander stood frozen at the edge of the seam in the floor. He stared at the bloody scrap of fabric in his hand. His chest tightened so painfully he couldn't pull air into his lungs.
Seraphina walked up beside him. She placed a warm, gentle hand over his. She pulled the fabric from his grip, dropped it onto the floor, and stepped directly on it.
Down in the dark, Elara's body was being torn apart. She bit her tongue to stay awake, forcing the chaos mana to wrap around her heart to keep it beating.
Her bloody fingers reached down and closed around the glass vial in her boot.
The fire of pure hatred burned brighter than the pain.
You may also like
7.9
After her twin brother's unexplained death at Alpha Academy, Alexandria Hyde takes his place and his name to uncover the truth. Now living as "Alex," she's thrown into a world of hot, testosterone-fueled Alphas who fight to the brink of death... and she has to survive it while hiding who she really is.
But staying hidden isn't easy–
Not when the Alphas start noticing her.
Not when the truth she's chasing might destroy her first.
And definitely not when they start fighting for her instead.
9.6
She was sold as a broodmare. He was a warrior with no memory. Together, they'll burn down the world.
Lyra has been called many things: half-blood, mongrel, dirty blood. Rejected by every pack she's approached, she's given one final chance-as a bride to Ronan, the cruel Alpha of Red River Pack. But when her wedding night becomes a nightmare, she stabs her new husband and flees into the frozen wilderness.
Stellan remembers nothing. Not his name, not his past, not the ancient tattoos covering his body. He only knows that when he sees a terrified woman falling from a cliff into an icy river, he must save her-even if it kills him.
On the run from a vengeful Alpha and his army of hunters, Lyra and Stellan discover an impossible bond growing between them. The moon has chosen them as mates. But Stellan's memories are returning, and with them, a devastating truth: he's not just any wolf. He's the Alpha of the North Star Pack. And a half-blood can never be his Luna.
Now Ronan's brother has sworn revenge, an ancient prophecy awakens, and three packs prepare for war. Lyra must prove that bloodlines mean nothing-and that the most powerful bond of all is forged in ice and fire.
He lost his memory. She lost her freedom. Together, they'll find everything.
7.3
Seven years ago, my fiancé, Don Dante Moretti, sent me to prison to take the fall for my adopted sister, Chiara. He called it a gift-a way to protect me from a worse fate.
Today, he picked me up from prison only to abandon me at my family's estate. His reason? Chiara was having another one of her "episodes."
My parents then informed me I'd be staying in the third-floor storage room, so as not to disturb the fragile girl who stole my life.
They celebrated her "recovery" with a lavish dinner party, while I was treated like a ghost. When I refused to join, my mother hissed that I was ungrateful, and my father called me jealous.
They assumed I couldn't understand their venomous whispers. But prison was my university. I learned Spanish. I understood every word.
It was then I realized I wasn't just a sacrifice; I was disposable. The love I once felt for all of them had turned to ash.
That night, in the dusty storage room, I logged onto an encrypted channel I'd set up years ago. A single message was waiting: "The offer stands. Do you accept?" My hands, scarred and steady, typed back, "I accept."
8.0
For six years, I played the perfect, submissive wife to Wall Street titan Francis Castro. I suffocated my own ambitions to fit into his conservative world.
But while I waited alone at a Michelin restaurant, a news alert popped up. My husband had just dropped millions on an aquamarine diamond necklace for his "muse," Chanelle.
The real nightmare began when I rushed home to find our five-year-old son in severe anaphylactic shock. I frantically called Francis from the ambulance, but he manually rejected my calls. He couldn't leave the bidding war for Chanelle's PR launch.
When he finally arrived at the ER, Chanelle was right beside him, wearing that blinding multi-million-dollar necklace. He didn't ask about our dying son.
"Why weren't you watching him?" he demanded, his voice hard and accusing.
And when my son woke up, hazy from the drugs, he rejected my touch and reached for Chanelle instead. Francis just stood there, praising Chanelle for knowing exactly how to calm him down.
I stared at the three of them looking like a perfect, happy family. Six years of swallowing my pride, only to realize my husband would let our son choke to death just to buy another woman's smile.
The last thread of my heart snapped. I handed him the divorce papers, demanding zero alimony. Then, I drove to a hidden Brooklyn loft, cut off my hair, and unlocked my safe.
It was time to resurrect my true identity—the legendary fashion designer, Ember.J. I am going to burn her empire to the ground.
9.4
I was a New York photographer, but I woke up under the brutal sun of the African savanna.
Worse, I wasn't human. I was trapped in the body of a male cheetah, with two starving cubs clinging to my fur, telepathically calling me "Mom."
But I am a real man!
To keep my adopted sons alive, I had to fight hyenas and dodge rogue lions. But the real nightmare was my bizarre survival mechanism. Under extreme threat, I would uncontrollably shift back into my human form—stark, undeniably naked. I was forced to sprint across the plains with my bare skin exposed, carrying two cubs while escaping furious lionesses. I became a freak, the most confusing and humiliating legend of the animal kingdom.
Covered in bloody scratches and mud, I was pushed to the brink of despair. Why was I thrown into this beast's body? Why did my only defense mechanism involve profound social death?
Just when I barely survived a cliff dive to escape the lions, my path was blocked by two massive, highly intelligent prime male cheetahs.
But the alpha, Bradley, didn't want to kill me for my territory.
His intense gaze raked over my naked, bleeding human body with a dark, possessive hunger.
"You are full of surprises."
He purred smoothly, teaching me to magically summon a fur skirt before demanding I join his coalition.
"Oh, you'll come to me. I guarantee it."
Looking into his predatory eyes, I realized I was no longer just surviving the wild; I was the prey of a completely different kind of beast.
9.1
The best way to get back at a cheating bastard? Make him sick to his stomach for the rest of his life!
Days before her wedding, Corinne caught her fiancé cheating with his coworker in what she thought was their future home.
Furious, she tore everything apart, ended the engagement, and decided on a bold revenge plan.
To make him regret it for life, she set her sights on marrying his powerful uncle. Confident in her scheme, she tried to win over the cold, untouchable man, only to realize too late that she had mistaken his identity.
The man she married was far more dangerous than she imagined!
Corinne decided to make a quick escape. "Let's get a divorce. We're clearly not right for each other... "
He cornered her with a knowing smile, "Not right for each other? Funny, that's not what you said last night in bed. Want me to remind you how wrong you are?"