ManyWriters

  1 "Thalia Silverfang, has someone mistreated you?" My sibling's inquiry carried a hint of worry as he paused during our phone conversation. He must have detected something in my voice, but I tried to appear nonchalant. I put on a false cheerful expression, despite the anger threatening to overwhelm me. "No, everything's fine. I've just come to a conclusion—if marriage is inevitable, does the identity of my spouse really matter?" "Are you certain?" He persisted, his unease growing. "Thalia, if there's a problem, you can confide in me. What's behind this sudden eagerness to wed? You seemed reluctant before." Naturally

Love's Cruel Substitute, A Wolf's Heartbreak

As dawn broke, light seeped into the dilapidated room where I'd taken shelter for the night. The aging walls, marked by fissures, seemed to come alive in the soft glow. For the first time in ages, a glimmer of optimism stirred within me.


Isn't it true that even the darkest night gives way to sunrise? I eased my body, feeling the ache in my muscles from resting on the unyielding, chilly ground, and released a long exhale.


I reached for my mobile, noticing several unanswered calls and texts from Daniel. My heart raced as I perused his messages.


[Blake's recovered. Return to base. Your presence is crucial.]


A wave of solace washed over me, tainted with remorse. Blake had survived, but it didn't excuse my rash actions. Eliminating Gregor Fitzburg was essential, yet my approach—driven by raw emotion, leaving the Obsidian Knights manifesto in blood—was far from discreet.


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