Holding Onto My Man - CHAPTER 17: FANTASY CINNABAR MOLE

Octavius, misled by friends, embarks on a quest to clear his father's name, ultimately facing a tragic end with his sister.Their journey results in devastating loss, leaving him powerless and yearning for revenge against those who harmed his family. Spirits offer him a chance to reincarnate, but he refuses, saying;“What’s the point of a new life if I keep running from my problems”The entities are taken aback by his unwavering decision, having never encountered a spirit who refuses to escape their troubled past. They warn him about the evil being that now resides in his old body, but that only motivates him. He believed In the saying - to defeat a monster, you have to be twice as monstrous.Embracing his fate as The Phantom's Gambit, they traverse the shadowy path of retribution, their identities blur, secrets unravel, and the line between savior and monster fades.This is a tale of darkness and redemption, where justice is a blade, and revenge is the only way forward.

“Any who don the title of 'king' or anything of the sort in my presence is nothing more than an ignorant fool. This is my land and I shall be reclaiming it soon. I am Cacophony, the Vampire Empress!”As those words left her lips, every cell in my body reacted. It was unreal—no, it was otherworldly. Her beauty, her power, and her overwhelming arrogance. It might've been then that I realized that my normal life had ended.How did it come to this?Ah, it was curiosity. Yes, a deathly curiosity brought me to that graveyard that day.It was there that I stumbled upon her coffin. I had absolutely no clue what I was doing then, and even now I have no idea what possessed me to touch it—that single moment changed the course of history for the entire world. I found myself delving into a completely unknown world.Should I regret it? Maybe. But the truth is, I don't.Exploring the world’s hidden secrets, forging unexpected bonds, and living alongside the revived empress—it’s exciting.“Even if it's wrong, I think I'm going to enjoy every moment of it.”

“Aria,” he said softly. “Today is your birthday.”It wasn't a question, but I nodded nevertheless.“The moon is full tonight,” he added, his voice quiet. “You will attend the ceremony.”“Of course, Elder,” I replied, puzzled. All eighteen-year-olds attended the ceremony. It was essential.He leaned in, smelling gently. “You already feel it, don't you? ”The change.My heartbeat skipped. “What change?”Elder Malin's eyes narrowed. Interesting. “Very interesting.” He reached inside his pocket and retrieved a little pouch. “Wear this tonight.”I accepted it hesitantly. Inside was a simple moonstone pendant with a leather cord.“But this is for—”“Wear it,” he interjected. “Hide it under your clothes if you must, but wear it.”Moonstones were precious. They aided our connection to the Moon Goddess during ceremonies. However, they were only given to wolves from influential families (Alphas and Betas). Not Omegas like me.“Why?” I questioned.Elder Malin glanced at Mira before returning his attention to me. “Because someone is harboring secrets about you, child. And tonight, those secrets may be revealed.”I never mattered in our pack. Omegas like me serve, submit, and survive. We don't dream of love. We don't dream of power.She was the future Luna. I was just the girl who watched from the shadows.But everything changed on my 18th birthday.I felt the bond. I met my mate.One of the Alpha's sons.But the Alpha has triplets, and I felt the mate bond with all three and it seems the three of them felt it too — three perfect warriors, three powerful Alphas, three secrets buried beneath the surface.One of them is my destiny.One of them is lying.And one of them might be the death of me.The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes... but this time, I think she might've given me too much to handle.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”