Hello my lovelies. I'm Maria de la O, an erotic fantasy writer. My current long-form work is ONCE IT GETS DARK, an urban fantasy set in a darkness-clad modern-day Berlin (complete with its own language, script, and culture).
What ONCE IT GETS DARK is about:
— Adult content with some dark themes: check the AO3 tags for warnings
—You can read the full versions on Literotica, AO3, and Inkitt
— This blog will also post quotes, worldbuilding, language, Berlin mood and pictures.
ONCE IT GETS DARK Story premise:
After Germany loses a brutal war against the invading Fay, the country suffers under a violent and inhuman regime. Anna, a carefree linguistics student in Berlin, is seized and claimed by a powerful, Fay warrior with no mercy for her people. As he breaks her world apart piece by piece, Anna finds herself trapped between hatred and a twisted, undeniable pull toward the very creature who’s stolen everything. Resistance is dangerous but surrender may be worse… how far will she go to survive?
Where to read & hang out:
— Patreon (if you want to support me 💚 extras, early looks, language sheets)
— Discord (big community, lore threads, spoiler chat)
— Literotica (explicit chapters; this is the original publication)
— AO3 (explicit chapters + Archive Warnings)
— Linktree
House rules:
— New chapters drop on Tuesdays and Fridays
— I batch replies on Tuesdays & Thursdays so I can keep writing.
Navigation:
— The story: #OIGD chapters
— Veril Language: #annas veril lessons
— Quotes & snippets: #lines in the darkness
— Berlin pics and qutes: #berlin after dark
— Lore drops: #OIGD lore
— Community/polls: #OIGD community #OIGD polls
— Fanwork & theories: #fandom friday
— Updates: #OIGD updates
Credits: — Cover design: D. A. Bergmann Buchdesign • dabergmann.de
In the very near future, Germany has fallen to the Veril, an alien race of dark elves. They have no interest in land or resources since their realm is vast and bountiful. What they need are women, because no Veril girl has been born in centuries.
Faced with extinction, the Veril strike a Treaty with the defeated German government that grants them the right to reproduce with the country's women.
Six months after the Treaty is signed there is a knock on Katharina's door in a small town near Heidelberg. Standing outside are a high-ranking Veril Colonel and his men who have come to escort her and her parents to the occupied city of Hamburg.
This Novelette that follows Colonel Vik Ichel. I wrote it in a way that you don't need to have read Once it Gets Dark to enjoy it.
Content warnings
OF LOYALTY AND SHADOW
CHAPTER 2: COMPLICATION
Like a fish between river pebbles, the vehicle passed the human cars with satisfying fluidity.
Colonel Vik Ichel checked the rearview mirror. The shadows that surrounded them lay like dark swirls over his vision, but he saw through them without difficulty. The road behind was empty. Just to be sure, he checked his monitors as well, confirming that the rest of the convoy was truly gone, and leaned back, letting his head sink against the seat. At least one thing was going according to plan on this misfortune-stricken night.
The woman spoke, but for some reason, the interpreter remained silent. Had he fallen asleep? Ichel sent a short impulse into his binding.
The old man straightened, and his high voice trembled with indignation. “A serpent bird? Is that where the loyalties of a Kirtim Shenk colonel lie?”
This Red-City tree louse was risking his life, all because he felt insulted by the image of a little Plateau bird in a shadow play. Ichel would have been amused if it weren’t so tiring.
He bared his canines. “This is the first and last time I will allow such disrespect, Private. Talk to your superior like that again, and I will have you clipped.”
For a moment, Ichel wondered whether the interpreter would still be able to hear enough to do his job, with both his ears cut off. Just his luck that he was stuck on a ride through the entire length of this unfortunate country with a human terrorist at his identity side and an aphid at his back. The private was one of the useless academics who had been conscripted for their language skills right before the crossing and whose prejudice ran so deep that even the Kirtim Shenk’s basic training hadn’t been able to drill it out of them.
Ichel released his hold on the shadow-bloom in the woman’s hair, and the darkness returned to its rightful place underneath the branches of the forest at their identity-hand side.
Now that the other vehicles had veered off to take the shortcut through the portal, he didn’t need to distract her with conversation or little displays of magic anymore. He only had to keep the car veiled for an instant longer—just in case.
Ichel pressed his foot down on the accelerator. Due to the unexpected additional Neumann, he had been forced to depart from the original plan and take the conventional human road to Emvurk, because, no matter what, the portals’ security was of the highest priority. More important than his life. More important even than his current mission. Each gate was like soft, unprotected tissue—an opening into the heart of the Suyulkinshvun. If the human terrorists found their locations, they wouldn’t hesitate to launch another attack on its innocent civilians. The innocent civilians who Ichel had been enslaved to protect. Who he would, eventually, give his life for. So much for his loyalty.
The woman at his side—this fact was as clear as pure urush’—would take the first chance she got and report everything to her allies. He gave her a slow, calculated glance up and down. There was something off about her, something that irritated him, though he wasn’t able to say what it was exactly.
She was sitting upright, her berry-colored lips an unmoving line, and, even though her human senses wouldn’t allow her to see past the shadows, her eyes were directed straight ahead.
He had scared her. Ichel could tell by the fast, wet thump of her heart, by the sharp shift in her scent, by the tick of her pulse on her long, graceful neck. She had, of course, been scared the entire time, but his touch had stirred something in her, had brought her fear to a new height.
Good. Ichel smiled. He liked to keep the enemy on edge, liked to keep them confused about his intentions. And that she was indeed the enemy had been clear ever since she had tried to call her contact. His men had used the time they had spent waiting on her doorstep to learn more about Katharina Neumann, to investigate why she hadn’t been on their list of Shuk Iskich’s immediate family.
And what they had found did not look good: up until the day they dropped the fiery rain on Mother Night’s sacred forest, massacring its unsuspecting dwellers, she had worked as some kind of advisor to the German leaders. After that, Katharina had vanished from all official records.
There was a slight release in the tightness that kept his Shadow Guards strapped to his will. The car transporting the Neumann parents and their escort had crossed.
Ichel allowed the darkness around the car to dissipate and flicked the radio switch on.
General Tsul Vo’ren didn’t speak, but Ichel felt the connection in his mark.
“My General. My guards at camp just informed me. Counselor Suchil has taken Shuk Iski’chik to the embassy.” He paused. “And we have run into some complications at the Neumann house.”
He turned toward the stubborn complication at his side, giving her a quick wink, letting her know that he was talking about her.
He kept his report brief. Vo’ren had already arrived at the Etelverk battleground. If the stars willed it—and they both made it out of this mission alive—maybe then he could tell his general and comrade about how fascinating and unsettling Katharina Neumann was, how different from her sister, and how much like her at the same time. But now was not the time for idle chat. Ichel changed the frequency and passed on General Tsul’s orders to the Verlin unit stationed around the embassy to fortify its position. Then he flicked off the switch.
The woman said something in Human again, repeating her earlier words, but he couldn’t concentrate, not with General Tsul’s rage still crackling through his binding.
What a fucking shitshow this night had been so far. To think that he could already be back on his way to Etelverk by now. Annoyance crept up Ichel’s neck, and he shot the private in the backseat a warning glance.
“She says that she is married.” The interpreter was quick to translate, and, his voice cautious and low, he added, “My Colonel.”
Ichel’s eyes dropped to the woman’s delicate hand on the dashboard. The golden band on her finger glittered faintly in the blue light. He clenched his jaw. And this was exactly why human men were collectively despised by most of his kind.
“And where is he? Your man?” he said through gritted teeth. “Hiding while his woman is facing the Kirtim Shenk?”
She balled her fists so hard it made her knuckles shine blue beneath the cabin lamp.
“You don’t believe me?” Her eyes stayed fixed on the street ahead, glinting with anger like onyx under the moon. “You don’t have any way to confirm if a woman is actually married or not, do you? But you base your whole rape treaty on the premise. If it weren’t so disgusting, it would make me laugh.”
Her sand-colored cheeks heated, little red flecks blooming on them like flowers. Ichel smirked. She had misunderstood. He hadn’t doubted the truth of her comment—the cowardice of human men was neither a surprise nor news to him. He had simply wanted to voice his disgust. He felt his magic flare in his blood again.
“Why is he not here, protecting you from us?”
She turned and looked directly at him. Seething with suppressed anger as she was, she looked just like her sister.
“Do I need to be protected from you?”
Ichel leaned over to her, one hand on the backrest of her seat and his face only a hand’s length from hers.
He curled his lips up to make sure she could see all of his sharp canines as he spoke—directly in Human and without the filter of translation.
“Of course you do, woman.”
Her heart instantly began thumping faster, and he held her gaze a moment longer, savoring the effect. Like the sky before nightfall, the beautiful blush spread from her cheeks down her neck, disappearing underneath the collar of her white shirt.
Satisfied, he sank into his seat again—and frowned. The concrete ahead was completely clear, not one car in sight. The minuscule dog stirred, and the woman lowered him onto the backpack between her feet. The cabin filled with the scent of her hormones: fear and something female—her body’s natural reaction to his earlier proximity.
The interpreter shifted in his seat. Ichel rolled down the window and tightened his pull on the bond to his subordinate. Intimidating an enemy was one thing, but there would be no Treaty-Fulfillment under his command tonight.
The saturated cabin air was sucked out through the window by the slipstream, and, for an instant, the full complexity of her fragrance hit him like a punch to the stomach. He inhaled sharply—a deep lungful—and then he understood. Understood what had been bothering him ever since this little terrorist had planted herself in front of him at her parents’ doorstep. It was subtle, and a less experienced man would not have noticed. But Ichel had been with enough women to detect the fine nuance that had been brought forth by her arousal: Katharina Neumann was compatible with him.
Slowly, he turned. His eyes met hers—they were shiny with tears of anger. Magic roiled in his blood, and venom began to stir in his loins.
Ch’ish. Ichel suppressed a laugh. More complications. Just what he needed.
There was a twinkle at the periphery of his vision, tiny, like the spark of a bonfire lit behind the horizon.
She darted forward as quickly as a striking snake and slapped her hand over the triangular button on the dashboard. Click. Scorching light stronger than the cruel sun himself made the skin on Ichel’s hands sizzle. Then, with a metallic clank all around them, the vehicle’s sun shield slammed shut.
Click.
He slammed his foot onto the brakes, turning the wheel with one hand while pulling the daylight mask over his head with the other. He yanked the car around, angling his side toward the ambush and the passenger side away from it.
“Down!”
He reached over to press the woman face-first into the footwell. But she had already curled up, her hands locked behind the back of her head and her torso wrapped protectively over her tiny dog.
Warning shrilled through his bindings. Not now. No time.
Click.
Ch’ish!
Another blast of sunlight flashed across the radar. The following explosion hit them so violently that it sent the vehicle spiraling sideways. A heart-wrenching yowl. Ichel tightened his hold on the steering wheel. The scorched skin on his hands ripped. They crashed into the guardrail and stopped.
“Stay down,” he ordered in Human, then repeated the command in Veril and German.
With one quick motion, he detached the baton from his belt, activated the metal shield, and rammed it into the dashboard to give additional cover to the woman and her pet.
He grabbed his rifle from the weapon mount. One well-placed blow with his elbow and the roof hatch broke open. He stood up. The midnight air was heavy with smoke and ozone. Ichel called for the shadows and cursed again. A tiny speck of light, and he already felt its effect wrapping around his powers like a fuzzy film. It took immense effort, but he wasn’t the most powerful shadow weaver of his generation for nothing.
He ran his senses over the darkness, rolling it up like clay as he molded it into shapes, silhouettes hurrying away from the car: two men, one woman, and a small dog.
Ichel ducked back into the cabin, prepared for another flash.
Gunshots.
He closed his eyes and felt into the night, counting the reports, gauging the enemies’ positions.
Shuk,
vik,
kinsh,
tek,
vesk.
—Five.
He emerged through the roof again. Quick. He shouldered his rifle, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
Shuk. Vik.
The recoil of each well-placed shot had a satisfying familiarity.
Kinsh. Tek.
Ichel felt the punch to his binding-side arm long before the pain set in. No time. Vesk. Vesk. Vesk. Again and again, Ichel fired in the direction of the last moving target.
Silence.
He slid back in and slammed, slammed, slammed down on the gas. Please, in the name of the Crimson Flame.
With a reluctant burble, the engine came back to life. Praised be the Horned One!
“Stay down. Shield your heads. Brace.”
The median barrier crumbled beneath the bumper of pure Barren-Forged Steel, and their vehicle broke through onto the oncoming lanes. Ichel pressed the pedal to its limit. The concrete street got wider, doubling in size. Yet, still, there were no cars. Not on this side and not on the other side either.
No time to investigate. Not with a cargo as precious and as fragile as his.
Beyond the barrier, his shadows sensed the outline of the enemy emplacement: a howitzer-like machine, and on the ground around it, five unmoving forms. Ichel touched three fingers to his forehead and dropped them again. A brisk salute as they drove past. May their souls be granted safe passage.
Had they been alone? That seemed unlikely. Ichel felt deeper into the darkness while his eyes scanned the monitors for any movement. Nothing. He flicked on the radio, but all he received was an eardrum-piercing hiss of static. Maybe they had simply run into an unlucky outpost? His senses were still dulled, but that much seemed clear: besides the woman and dog under the shield, the shock-stricken interpreter in the backseat, and himself, there was no other living being within close proximity of their vehicle. Ichel gritted his teeth and suppressed a sigh. That, at least, made another immediate ambush improbable.
He wedged his knee underneath the steering wheel to keep the car straight, yanked his shield out of the dashboard, and collapsed it back into a baton. A burning pain shot through his arm. Ch’ish! The removal had left a hole in the dashboard, and little blue flecks of power sparked around it. Double ch’ish!
He looked at the woman’s motionless form. She was still curled up, her ridiculous braid dangling over her head like a scorpion’s tail.
“Are you well?”
Still no movement. The dog whimpered. Sweat broke out on Ichel’s forehead, making the itchy mask stick to his skin, and for the first time that night he was scared.
Was she…? No—he could hear her heartbeat over the rattling noises of the car.
He grasped her by the roots of her hair and carefully pulled her upright, restraining his urge to shake her.
“Don’t touch me.” Her voice went through his nervous system, like an embroidery needle through a silk headscarf.
She had cut herself—maybe on one of the buckles of her backpack. A drop of blood ran over her temple. The sight of it made his own blood roil.
“You are injured.”
“Huh?” She shrugged, wiped her forehead, and flinched as her fingers brushed the wound above her eyebrow. “It’s nothing.”
She leaned toward her pet again, stroking it, speaking soft words in German that Ichel didn’t understand. The miniature beast jumped onto her lap, trembling and licking her chin, seeking reassurance from his mistress, and Ichel was relieved to see that the dog, at least, was unhurt.
He reached for his supplies, but the bag had become wedged behind the seat. And Ichel’s binding-side arm didn’t seem to respond to his command quite as it should.
What was this fucking dead weight of a private waiting for? Ichel barked an order. The interpreter jolted, coming back to life like a frozen locust thawing beneath the sun of the spring equinox.
His subordinate handed him a tuft of nilil, and Ichel offered it to the woman.
She raised her uninjured brow at it.
Oh, for the sake of Mother Night!
Ichel grasped her by the jaw, turned her face toward him, and carefully pressed the soft moss over the cut. For a fraction of a moment, she closed her eyes as the relief of the healing fibers sank into the wound. Then she grabbed the remedy and pushed his hand away.
“I said, don’t touch me.”
Ichel forced the protesting car to a higher speed. He couldn’t wait to get to Emvurk, to hand off the complication and join his comrades on the battleground. Noticing that he was still wearing the damn daylight mask, he pulled it off and stuffed it into the same pocket that held the woman’s phone. For a moment, her heartbeat accelerated, but it took her an impressively short while to get herself under control again.
Ichel smirked and sank back into his seat. The rush of the battle was slowly flowing out of him. Each soul under his protection had survived. He allowed himself one shaky exhale, then pushed the triangular button. The sun shield began retreating into the car’s frame with a creaking sound before it got stuck halfway, revealing a mosaic of darkness through the cracked glass of the windshield.
The landscape had changed: a tree-covered mountain range melting into fields of yellow flowers. Their oily smell filtered into the vehicle through the still-open roof hatch, but as pungent as it was, it couldn’t mask the woman’s pheromones floating through the cabin, calling to his most primal instincts.
He tore his gaze from the damaged window, baring his teeth. “What weapon was that?”
Not only did the humans seem to have learned about his kind’s vulnerability to sunlight, but they had also found a way to artificially recreate it—to turn it into a blast of death. Had she had a hand in the attack?
The woman remained silent, her arm wrapped protectively over the dog.
She was not easily intimidated, that much was clear—but the pull between compatible partners went both ways. That should make her susceptible to his charm.
Deeming it worth a try, Ichel inclined his head and softened his voice. “You saved me.”
There was a strange acceleration in her pulse. Her eyes stayed fixed intently on the road ahead, even though her human limitations kept her from seeing the outline of a city that had appeared on the horizon: gigantic buildings of stacked concrete.
“I saved Merry.”
Ichel smiled. He inclined his head again, this time to the dog, then stroked the animal’s silk-soft chin with his burned finger. When he looked up again, he gave the woman a quick wink. She shifted, casually maneuvering her pet away, but he had seen the slight uptick tugging on the corners of her lips before she smoothed them into her usual line again.
“How?” Ichel asked in Human, hiding his triumph behind an even tone.
How had she known? How had she been able to react so fast, faster even than he?
“I watched the road.”
He couldn’t help an amused scoff. Katharina reminded him of those who had raised him. Hardened, full of hate and passion and cunning. A real woman, strong enough to survive in the harsh winters and scorching summers of the Plateaus.
Ichel pointed first at the flickering screens, then at his ears and eyes, indicating that he had everything under control. Her scent deepened on that particular note again—doubtlessly her female reaction to his proficiency and skill. It was natural for a woman who had only ever encountered the inferior men of her own species. And, married or not, he could smell that her last encounter had been quite some time ago. Even longer than it had been for him…
She scoffed as if she had heard his thoughts and briskly brushed a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear.
The sharp sound and gesture brought Ichel back to his senses. The pain in his arm had become constant, pulsating, spiking with each movement. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He had to get a grip on himself and concentrate on his original mission. If necessary, her interrogation could be left to somebody else—as soon as they had reached the protection of Emvurk. What Ichel needed to focus on now was to safely deliver Katharina Neumann, and then he probably needed to see a healer before he could join his general.
He glanced at the position of the stars outside the window. There was still a half-night’s ride ahead of them. They couldn’t afford any further complications if they wanted to make it before dawn.
She finally turned her head. Their eyes met, and she said something in Human, demonstratively crossing her arms over her dog.
For a change, the interpreter actually did his job unbidden, wisely hesitant to further provoke his superior.
Colonel Vik, even if it’s an insult to your Veril masculinity, please watch the road. I won’t save us a second time.
The steering wheel groaned under Ichel’s tightening fingers as he listened to the translation. Was she trying to threaten him? Something hummed in his veins. Was it anger, or did it have to do with the way the word masculinity had dripped from her tongue? Whatever it was, it stirred a strange urge in him: to pull her tight against his chest, to watch her speech falter as she trembled in his hold, half from fear and half from something else. Ichel turned, teeth bared, ready to put her in her place once and for all, ready to remind the little terrorist that she was his prisoner.
There was a whirr followed by another burble, and the cabin went dark just as the car’s electrical system gave out.
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Of Loyalty and Shadow: Chapter 1
Roses and Poodles and Hummingbirds
Summary:
In the very near future, Germany has fallen to the Veril, an alien race of dark elves. They have no interest in land or resources since their realm is vast and bountiful. What they need are women, because no Veril girl has been born in centuries.
Faced with extinction, the Veril strike a Treaty with the defeated German government that grants them the right to reproduce with the country's women.
Six months after the Treaty is signed there is a knock on Katharina's door in a small town near Heidelberg. Standing outside are a high-ranking Veril Colonel and his men who have come to escort her and her parents to the occupied city of Hamburg.
This is the first Chapter of Of Loyalty and Shadow, my new novelette that follows Colonel Vik Ichel. I wrote it in a way that you don't need to have read Once it Gets Dark to enjoy it.
Content warnings
OF LOYALTY AND SHADOW
CHAPTER 1: ROSES AND POODLES AND HUMMINGBIRDS
Bang. Bang. Bang.
She jumped. Who the fuck knocked on the door, after sundown? Who the fuck knocked at all? Unfortunately, she knew the answer even before she opened. Even before she looked into the harsh green faces of the Veril soldiers standing on her parents’ neatly swept doorstep.
She slammed the door shut again.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Somewhere upstairs Merry barked, shrill and almost hysterical. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Aufmachen, oder ich schieße!”
The German sentence sounded drawn out and harsh in the demon’s foreign accent, yet she couldn’t help but be impressed—this was the first time she had heard any of them speak anything other than English or Veril.
She took a deep breath and pushed the handle down.
He towered over her, filling the doorframe completely. A rifle was slung over his shoulder, and he was wearing the typical dark-gray camouflage and leather armor of the Kirtim Shenk. His hair was shaved on both sides of his head and the rest tamed in an impressively long black braid. She stiffened when her eyes fell on the shining mark on his right wrist: two lines and between them a triangle topped with two circles.
He inclined his head. “I am—”
“Colonel Vik Ichel,” she spat the name out. “The Butcher’s right hand.”
The Butcher and his colonel, leaders of the Veril army who had, in one night, slaughtered all the men in Hamburg. How exactly they had done it, nobody knew. Not even now, almost six months after the massacre.
Instead of taking offense at the moniker, he smirked and gave her a hint of a bow.
“And you?” He reached back to a soldier standing at his heels and snatched a piece of parchment out of his hands. The Colonel scanned the lines and zigzags of the alien writing and looked back at her. A slight furrow appeared between his brows.
“Petra Neumann?”
His accent was so sharp she would not have understood the name if it hadn’t been her mother’s. She pressed her lips shut.
He kept scrutinizing her. The effect of his presence was suffocating. She had, of course, seen Veril soldiers before, but never that close and never one as famous—as infamous—as him. She almost thought that she could feel his magic tingle in the hairs on her arms. She was not a cowardly woman, but still, it took all her self-control not to step back. Instead, she raised her chin and narrowed her eyes, fixing him with a haughty gaze as her hand sank slowly into her pocket.
The warrior shook his head and said something to his companions in the elves’ hissing snake language. He was not an unattractive man, she had to admit—if you were into that aggressive, testosterone-dripping, hypermasculine monster type. Which she was not, of course. Fortunately not. Did the Veril even have testosterone? Did they even have hormones at all, or did their bodies run on magic and malice alone?
A voice behind her pulled her agitated mind back to reality.
“Katharina?”
Her mother. She balled her fists. Why didn’t she stay back like she had been told to do? Why had her parents even asked her to come here if they never listened?
Colonel Vik snapped some kind of order, and ere Katharina could try to prevent it, his men had stormed the house, maneuvering past her and taking her mother by the upper arm, not forcefully but insistently. Katharina counted the warriors: five inside; six dark shadows behind the flower beds in the front yard; and a particularly unsettling one on her doorstep.
Her mother protested, and Katharina heard a soldier reply in calm English that sounded kilometers more polished than that of the Colonel.
“It’s fine, Mama,” Katharina called out in German, never ungluing her gaze from the Veril before her. “Don’t fight them. Remember what we’ve talked about. They’re going to bring you and Papa to Anna—they’re not going to hurt you.”
“Katharina…” the syllables rolled over the Colonel’s tongue as his tone trailed off.
Again, his pronunciation was terrible, the As sounding more like Es. But she was used to her name being corrupted in other countries, and, actually, as much as it pained her to admit it, she kind of liked the way it sounded. Besides, anything was better than Catherine.
He was still looking at her, as if debating whether he should interrogate her or eliminate her right away. Katharina decided to put him out of his misery—and herself out of danger. She didn’t want to be shot or strangled or any of the other horrible things the Veril did with their detainees.
“I’m her sister—Anna’s sister,” she said, looking him straight in the eyes, ignoring the sharp sting she felt in her heart at the little fool’s name.
To her absolute horror, he leaned down, sinking his face into the crook of her neck, and smelled her. Her stomach roiled with disgust, and she pressed her eyes shut.
He straightened up, gave her a curt nod, and called one of his men over. The Colonel glanced over his shoulder at the starry sky above the quiet town. The other man, an older-looking soldier, translated, and Katharina recognized the polished English she had heard earlier.
“You have fifteen minutes to get packed. Then we leave.”
“I’m already packed.” She tried to keep the hatred in her heart from filtering into the words.
“Then get your stuff.” He took a step forward.
“I’m not coming. I’m here to make sure that my parents are treated correctly, and then I’m off.” She put one hand on her waist while the other one, the one in her pants pocket, closed firmly around her phone. “And I’m not letting a mass murderer into my family’s home.”
Even with her less than rudimentary knowledge of the Veril language, she could hear the translator’s voice tremble as he conveyed her words, but, to her surprise, the Colonel laughed. He assumed a more relaxed posture, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe and crossing one ankle over the other.
His words had an almost teasing undertone when he spoke. “You are coming with us. So you either get your stuff yourself or I will have to come inside and fetch it for you.”
“You can’t make me!” That was, of course, ridiculously untrue. But all she wanted was to stall, to distract him. Her fingers ran along the cold metal frame of her phone, searching.
He laughed again, and she couldn’t help but notice that despite his monstrous fangs he had a gorgeous smile. A demon, trying to lure in his prey.
“I can make you,” he said. “I do not want to, but I can. And I have to if you do not cooperate. Orders from above.”
“From above?” Katharina’s thumb had found the button and began pressing it rapidly to activate the connection to her emergency contact.
“Aren’t you the mighty Colonel Vik Ichel?” She made sure to pronounce each word as loudly and clearly as possible, praying that the call had gone through.
He scoffed, casually lifted his left uniform sleeve, and brushed his index finger over another mark: a circle and a half-circle sitting on a line. Then, in one smooth movement, he closed his hand over hers and pulled it out of her pocket, retrieving the phone with it.
Katharina groaned, suppressing her scream. All she saw was the short flicker of the illuminated screen, indicating an active call, before he pressed her cell phone against some rectangular device on his belt. There was a buzzing sound, the display went black, and he stuck it into a pocket of his uniform pants.
“You can have it back when we get to Hamburg. Outside calls do not work there. Until then it stays with me.”
Before she could reply, there was a growl next to her right ankle, quickly shifting into an eardrum-piercing bark.
Fuck! Who had let Merry out? This whole thing was a gigantic mess!
“Merry, aus!” Katharina hissed.
But the dog didn’t listen; he never did. The poodle was half hidden, his fuzzy, copper-colored face peeking out from behind her leg. He was yapping at the intruder, emboldened by the faulty assumption that Katharina would be able to protect him. The Colonel smiled, and the look of it made cold sweat break out on her nape. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if something were to happen to her stupid little beast.
With a fluid motion, conveying the absolute control he had over every fiber of his powerful muscles, the Veril crouched down, stretching out his hand and whistling melodically through his teeth. It sounded like a mix between birdsong and the wind brushing through blades of grass.
Merry stopped barking at once and took a curious step out of his shelter, one paw cautiously in the air.
Despite the harshness of his native language, the Colonel spoke warmly, and even without understanding the words, Katharina recognized the international tone that people all over the world—and apparently all over the universe as well—used to talk with dogs.
It didn’t take much to convince the poodle. He hopped forward, wagging his tail, and began sniffing the demon’s outstretched hand.
“Sumik,” the Colonel chuckled and, to Katharina’s utter surprise, began scratching the dog behind his ears, continuing to praise him in Veril.
The landline rang. The shrill sound made Katharina start, and the Colonel straightened up again. He lifted his index and middle fingers, and Merry obediently sat down, completely calm and quiet, his ears pricked up and his eyes fixed immovably on the warrior.
One of the Veril standing guard next to the stairwell leading up to the second floor pulled out a long, jagged knife and cut the phone cable. The silence that followed was deafening.
“Fetch your things,” the Colonel said. The warmth had left his voice.
At this, her parents reemerged, flanked by Kirtim Shenk warriors, her mother carrying her favorite purse and a fully stuffed Pilates bag, and her father as pale as the pastel wallpaper of the foyer.
“Wait for me, please,” Katharina mumbled, unsure if she was talking to her family, the monsters, or herself, before she rushed upstairs.
When she stepped out onto the front porch, the air was charged with an uncanny energy that made all the hairs on her body stand up like antennae. At first glance, everything looked as it always did: the neatly trimmed grass, the small pear tree, and, climbing up a trellis next to the door, the lush blooms of pink roses—her mother’s greatest pride.
Petra Neumann liked to tell the story of how she had driven all the way to Steinfurth to get her hands on that special variety. Katharina’s sister Anna, for her part, liked to tell the story that the only time she had seen Mama cry was when the neighbors’ boy had broken off a branch. Of course Anna would conveniently leave out the detail that the same boy had later become her first boyfriend—and that the stolen branch had been for her.
Katharina wanted to smile at the memory, but her gaze caught on a leaf falling off the tree. It hung in midair, dropping as slowly as if the atmosphere had turned into thick molasses. Something was wrong, deeply, intrinsically wrong. The summer night, normally fragrant with grass and flowers and the dung of the cows farther out in the fields, was… scentless. Nothing was moving except for their party.
Cold unease took hold of her like fingers closing around her nape. She shot a sideward glance at the Colonel. He was walking at a brisk pace, Merry dutifully at his heel as if the pampered poodle had suddenly turned into a little soldier himself. One hand hovering behind her back, the commander ushered her forward, not touching but making it clear that he wouldn’t hesitate to drag her with him should she fail to keep up.
A convoy of six military vehicles was parked in the middle of the quiet residential road. Black and massive, they might have passed for Humvees, were it not for the eerily glimmering blue headlights and a dark camouflage pattern that seemed to be constantly, yet almost imperceptibly, shifting form and shape like an oil film on a puddle.
One of the warriors, carrying a polished spear, opened the door to the third vehicle, and her parents quickly took their seats inside. Katharina automatically followed, but something held her back by the collar of her shirt.
She whirled around. The Colonel shook his head and pointed one authoritative finger at the vehicle in front, where the interpreter was already waiting for them.
“You go with me.”
She opened her mouth, ready to protest. “But—”
“Shh,” he interrupted her with a sharp hiss, and his eyes narrowed as he patted the pocket in which he had put her cell phone.
When they reached the car, he crouched, picked up the tail-wagging dog, and abruptly pulled the passenger door open. Confident that his order would be obeyed, he didn’t grace Katharina with another look as he circled the car and took the driver’s seat.
She got in, placing her leather backpack carefully between her feet—all her belongings reduced to one single piece of luggage. She was not so stupid as to think that she could run, that she could stop these soldiers from dragging her to Hamburg whether she wanted to or not.
At least you’ll get insight into the forbidden city, she tried to console herself. Would Anna be there? The thought of her sister felt as if something very hard and blunt had been rammed into her stomach.
The Colonel casually put Merry on her lap, and as they set off and left the strangely frozen small-town streets of her childhood behind, Katharina buried her hands into the little animal’s warm fur.
Shapes and darkness.
The single-family houses of the neighborhood had become nothing but meaningless forms, like a text in a language she couldn’t read.
The narrow residential street became a two-lane country road. Frozen shadows of trees looming on each side. Their trunks flashing up in the faint blue of the convoy’s headlights was the only movement in this nightmare—the snapshot of a reality that had ceased to exist many years ago. Before the world had ended.
Occasionally, they passed another car. Katharina avoided looking, as if catching a glimpse of the paralyzed humans inside might turn her into stone as well. Instead, she peered over at Colonel Vik Ichel. He was leaning back, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift. Despite the ample size of the cabin, his presence filled it up entirely, overly confident and commanding. Voices sounded over the intercom, their hisses almost indistinguishable from the static. When the Colonel answered, Katharina heard something that sounded suspiciously like her own name.
Her stomach churned, and for a moment an image superimposed itself over her vision: an explosion of dust and debris and a blinding light as if the midday sun had risen in deepest night, the view out of the window blurring as their car swerved off its lane.
She squeezed her eyelids shut in a well-practiced maneuver, trying to wipe the scene away.
The Colonel threw her a sideways glance, and she breathed in deeply to settle her pulse. She knew that the monsters’ senses were much keener than those of humans—and she needed to be more careful.
Her heartbeat quickly returned to normal, and her mind steadied. He likely just thought that she was scared of being kidnapped. Which would be—in all honesty—the normal reaction to her current predicament. But just as so often before, the world around her could spin out of control, and she would feel nothing but a detached calm.
And that recent premonition? Katharina frowned, her eyes still on the black street ahead of them.
“What’s this?” She pointed at a triangular button above a small screen, pulsing with soft blue light.
The console of the Humvee was a weird amalgam of human and alien technology. It bothered her. She would have felt more comfortable if she had known what she was looking at, if she could lose herself in the illusion that she would be able to take over the wheel herself if worst came to worst.
“Hm?” The Colonel’s eyes flicked to the button. “Inirmeshtel.” His answer was as automatic as it was useless.
Katharina threw a glance at the interpreter in the seat behind him, the only other passenger in their vehicle.
“Sun shield.”
She leaned back without comment. She wasn’t entirely sure anymore how much about the Veril’s sensitivity to daylight was common knowledge and how much of it was confidential. All the information she had learned from different sources over the last months seemed to be flowing together into a big stew of terror. That probably meant she was actually more nervous than she had initially believed.
Had they received the info she had tried to send? The call had gone through, but that didn’t mean they had understood. She was under no illusion: they wouldn’t come to rescue her—nor did she want them to. But hopefully, the news that Colonel Vik Ichel himself had come to the South had reached the right people. A warning that the time for the final step was near.
She glanced into the rearview mirror, past the translator and at the ghostly blue headlights of the other cars in their convoy following them closely behind. Her parents’ faces remained invisible behind the reflective tint of the glass.
“Why have you taken us?” she asked. “Why now?”
There was no answer. Katharina looked out of the window, her muscles tight with unease. It was almost physically unbearable to be so close to them, to sit inside one of the machines that they had used to slaughter thousands of innocents. How many men had these two elves murdered? How many women had they raped?
To them she was nothing but an animal—worse than an animal. She gently caressed Merry’s soft snout. The little poodle had fallen asleep, rolled up like a croissant on top of her thighs, his warm body trembling as it rose and fell with the slow pattern of his breath.
The Colonel’s gaze had followed her hand. “I…” He paused, as if he were searching for a word, and tapped his armored chest. “Dog.”
“You’re a dog?” Katharina remarked without looking up. “I already knew that.”
There was a sharp breath from the backseat. For a moment, the Colonel remained silent. Then he directed a question at his interpreter. In the mirror, Katharina saw him shifting uncomfortably, his forehead glistening with sweat, as he mumbled his translation.
She pressed her teeth together, bracing herself for the blow or whatever else the elven monster had in store as punishment for her disrespect.
A loud laugh. Deep, slightly hoarse, and full of life. The Colonel gave her a pat on the shoulder, wiped his caramel-rich golden eyes, and turned to ask something else.
Katharina felt the memory of his touch prickle on her arm, and she brushed her hand over the sleeve of her blouse to stop the sensation.
“I have… a dog,” he said carefully and gave the other soldier a wink. “Suyulkinshvun,” he added and gestured vaguely toward the dark sky above.
“The Empire with Three Parts,” the interpreter offered automatically. “The Shadow Realm.”
Katharina thought she saw a hint of displeasure lowering the corners of the Colonel’s mouth, but then he looked at her and his expression evened.
“Like this.” He brushed his fingers over Merry’s head. “But bigger.”
“Of course it’s bigger.” Katharina scoffed, reluctantly amused and also mildly concerned that Colonel Vik’s attention appeared to be everywhere except on the road.
Yet the vehicle stayed perfectly in its lane, not swaying even a millimeter. Demon magic. Katharina’s jaw tensed.
“Not…” He laughed and switched to Veril.
“A wolf,” the interpreter translated. “There are no dogs in the Suyulkinshvun.”
“Chunshul,” the Colonel added, a smile playing about his lips.
“Is that his name?” Katharina couldn’t help being intrigued by the idea. A tamed wolf—every girl’s childhood dream!
“Yes. Her name.” He beamed at Katharina, and for a second she found herself hypnotized by the brightness of his sharp teeth. Why was a filthy murderer like him allowed to have such a beautiful laugh?
“This is Merry,” she said, keeping her tone nonchalant. “He’s mine. But he’s been living with my parents for a while now…” Her voice trailed off.
“Merry?” Colonel Vik’s accent made the word sound like an exotic spice.
“Yes. That was my father’s idea.” She scoffed. “It’s from a book he likes, and I thought the name was sweet.”
It felt strange to speak. She hadn’t had a long conversation in English in a while, not since her gap year volunteering on Europe’s borders. She could hear how clumsy the words sounded as they stumbled off her tongue. It made her almost grateful to have an interpreter so that she didn’t need to adapt her sentences further to accommodate the Colonel’s limited vocabulary.
“Sweet.” He smirked and fluffed the poodle’s head.
Merry’s ears gave an ever-so-slight twitch. He blinked his lids half-open and closed them again when he saw that it was the elven colonel petting him.
“Why did you leave your wolf in the Shadow Realm?” Katharina asked.
“Orders,” the Colonel said in Veril, and his subordinate translated. “We were not allowed to bring any plants or animals, so we would not impact your realm’s nature.” He chuckled. “They had to loosen the rules a little after we got the shits from the terrible food you have here, but still, strict restrictions on live animals remain in place.”
Katharina raised her brows. It seemed that he was getting into a talkative mood. Good.
“Why are you taking us to Hamburg? Why now?” she repeated her earlier question.
“Protection.” His face hardened and he finally directed his gaze at the road again.
“Protection from what?”
“From your kind. From our kind. From war.”
Despite the mild summer night outside, it felt as if the inside of the cabin had suddenly turned freezing.
“War?”
A muscle right above the Colonel’s jaw twitched. Then he nodded. “Etelverk.”
It took Katharina a second to understand that this was the Veril pronunciation. Heidelberg.
“Is my sister in Hamburg?” Her voice sounded higher than usual as it was forced to squeeze past the lump in her throat. “Will I get to see her?”
“Shuk Iskich?” he asked. “She is in Verlin still.”
Katharina dug her nails so deeply into the seat that she felt the coarse fabric rip. “Her name is Anna.”
His shrug made the leather armor over his impressive shoulders creak satisfyingly.
She wanted to hit him right in the handsome face. Her muscles burned with the urge. To hit him and bury her nails into his cheeks. To tear off his skin.
A message rustled over the damned radio again, and even though it was in Veril, Katharina could hear the alarm in the speaker’s voice. Both warriors straightened up. Katharina didn’t give a fuck.
Her baby sister. She had tried to hold the thought away from herself during the last dreadful days, but now it finally caught up to her. Little Nana. Taken. Kept captive. Even though it went against all the occupiers’ own grandiosely proclaimed rules. What had they done with her? The world started spinning, and Katharina fumbled for what she hoped was the button to open the window at her side.
The tinted glass sank soundlessly into the door, letting in even more silence from outside.
Air. With each breath Katharina’s vision steadied a little more. The Colonel didn’t object. He didn’t even seem to have noticed as he kept listening to the report, his forehead furrowed and his sharp teeth bared.
“Shuk Iskich,” said the voice over the radio.
It was the name that the monsters had given her sister, but they weren’t talking about her. It was a simple number, as Katharina had found out by now. Thirteen. Her sister—the symbol of the nation’s utter humiliation.
Katharina had watched the news reports about the Veril leaders’ meeting with the Bundeskanzler over and over again. Every different channel, every different angle. That devil of a general—the Butcher—with his hands all over Anna.
To others she might have looked intimidating in the Kirtim Shenk uniform, but Katharina had seen the way her sister walked, her shoulders only a tad too stiff. At first she had thought that Anna was trying to cover up how scared she was.
But then there was that one take that the former Franco-German collaborative channel had caught: Anna looking directly into the camera. Her face was covered; there were only her eyes, almost green in the stern light, and in them lay an expression that Katharina had never seen on her before—dissolved and closed off. The effect of Veril venom in her veins, altering her brain.
Katharina’s stomach roiled. She dug her fingers deeper into the seat until her nail cracked. She flinched back.
The Colonel shot a glance at her. He opened his mouth, then made a disgruntled sound and looked at the road for a change.
They had left the country road and were now merging onto the wide, eight-lane Autobahn, a tall concrete barrier separating them from the oncoming traffic to their left, and dark forests to their right.
Wind rustled the leaves of the trees ahead, sluggish, like a video played at half-speed. The observation finally pulled Katharina’s thoughts out of their spiral and back into the present. The outside sounds had returned: the soft hum of their tires on smooth concrete, the air hissing over the car’s roof. The noises were still somewhat unnaturally elongated, but it seemed like the farther they went, the more the world thawed back to life.
That was how they had done it. It played before her mind’s eye, like some science fiction horror movie. The city cut off from the world around it, and the monsters killing everyone inside. A bell jar filled with carnage. All the men in Hamburg, slaughtered in one night.
Katharina kept her face relaxed, careful not to let the realization filter into her expression. Her eyes slowly wandered to the Colonel’s pocket.
Time magic. She needed to get this info to her contact and she had to do it soon, before they reached Hamburg. This was a much better revenge than hitting the Colonel. She folded her arms behind her head, casually reducing the space between the massive warrior and herself. The hairs on her arm pricked up, reacting to his proximity.
He lifted his hand from the gear shift.
Katharina braced herself, but his motion was not aimed at her. Instead, he turned his palm up and elegantly curled his finger inward, as if he were trying to call and grasp something at the same time.
And the shadows followed.
Night clung to his fingertips like dark spiderwebs, growing denser around their car until they were completely wrapped.
Suddenly, Katharina was blind. A shaky breath sobbed out of her chest before she could suppress it. Then there was a whirring sound followed by an almost glass-like ping, and a dim blue light illuminated the cabin: Colonel Vik had switched on a small emergency lamp. When he saw her expression, he gave her a lopsided smirk and pulled a thread of darkness inside. It uncurled through her open window like a vine of a monstrous jungle plant.
He left it floating, outstretched before her face, and Katharina froze, as if she were staring into the barrel of a rifle.
With a twitch, the shadows compacted into a ball of darkness, rolling to the side until it hovered above the Veril warrior’s large, calloused palm.
Following the irrational instinct to keep the shadows locked out, Katharina quickly pressed the button and the window slid closed again. Panic and awe were fighting an internal battle inside her chest and the plan to steal her phone back was momentarily forgotten. The fear of rushing down a high-speed road without being able to see grew suffocating. She forced herself to lean back. But as much as she tried, she couldn’t relax, not as long as her life and that of innocent little Merry lay in the hands of the grim demon warrior at her side.
He knows what he’s doing. Just because you cannot see in the dark doesn’t mean he can’t either.
She stared at the globe of shadows, swirling and twisting above the Colonel’s hand like a storm of night, as beautiful as it was terrifying—just like him. He can see because he himself is made of darkness.
She squinted. Was there something moving inside the conjuration? Yes, she saw it more clearly now: a flutter like a trapped animal.
Open-mouthed, she looked up at him. The dark skin on his sharp jaw and cheekbones seemed to glow in the blue light.
He winked, and her pulse began hammering in her throat.
The ball of darkness cracked open, and from it emerged a shadow-winged animal, small, flitting, and sharp-beaked, almost like a hummingbird, but with a long, flowing tail of black feathers. The interpreter’s uniform rustled as he shifted on the backseat and the Colonel gave a dismissive huff.
As soon as the bird landed on the dashboard, its shape shifted. The beak became shorter and stouter, the wings and tail pulled in, and two floppy ears sprouted on the sides of its head. A little shadow dog, sitting attentively on its hind legs. It looked at Katharina and wagged its tail. Just one tiny, expectant jiggle. Merry. The motion was so much like the real one that she couldn’t help her short bark of laughter.
The Colonel’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror before he took the shadow poodle into his palm, and carefully closed his fingers over it. When he opened his hand again, the dog was gone, and in its stead lay the wide-open blossom of a Steinfurth rose.
“Impressive,” Katharina remarked more earnestly than she had intended.
The Colonel chuckled, and the interpreter translated for him. “I had plenty of time to study your flowers when you made me wait on the doorstep.”
Katharina gave him a smug glare. He leaned over to her, and her heart skipped a beat. Roses, and poodles, and hummingbirds or not—this man was a massive, muscled killing machine, and her flight reflex took over as soon as he entered her personal bubble.
He brushed his fingers over the air just above her temple, an unfulfilled promise of a touch. She grew entirely still, and when he drew back again, his hand was empty.
Katharina frowned, covering her discomposure under a mask of annoyance, and he made an inviting gesture toward the rearview mirror, very clearly satisfied with himself.
Her gaze followed, and she couldn’t help a smile: the bloom was attached to her hair, giving her the appearance of some kind of nightmarish flamenco dancer, pale-faced and grim. She rolled her eyes at him yet still ran her fingers over her severely pulled-back hair.
He laughed and bent in again, and this time she didn’t flinch. But before she could think of a way to inconspicuously reach for his pocket, he grasped her braid and tugged on it.
“What is this?” he growled in English. “Are you a man?”
Katharina took his hand between her thumb and index finger. Outwardly calm, she removed it from her hair and dropped it back onto his lap as if it were a used tissue.
Inwardly, her thoughts screamed alarm at her. He was flirting with her—or whatever the Veril equivalent of flirting was. She assessed her situation. A woman alone in a car with soldiers of an enemy army was in a precarious situation as it was. But thanks to the Treaty, she, as a German woman, was infinitely more vulnerable.
She felt his presence even more acutely than before. Pressing into the skin of her arm, into her entire left side, her waist, her butt, her thighs. She forced down the question of how he would feel on top of her, holding her down. How completely useless her ridiculous little self-defense classes would be against his inhuman strength.
She ignored the nausea churning her empty stomach and closed her eyes. Stay focused. She opened them again and she fixed her gaze on the black swirl of shadows beyond the windshield. Calmly, she placed her right hand, the one with the ring, onto the dashboard.
When she spoke, her tone was even.
“I’m married.”
→ Next Chapter
→ Masterpost
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Thank you so much for reading! ❤️
If you'd like to read more immediately, newer chapters are already available on Patreon.
In the very near future, Germany has fallen to the Veril, an alien race of dark elves. They have no interest in land or resources since their realm is vast and bountiful. What they need are women, because no Veril girl has been born in centuries.
Faced with extinction, the Veril strike a Treaty with the defeated German government that grants them the right to reproduce with the country's women.
Six months after the Treaty is signed there is a knock on Katharina's door in a small town near Heidelberg. Standing outside are a high-ranking Veril Colonel and his men who have come to escort her and her parents to the occupied city of Hamburg.
This is my new novelette that follows Colonel Vik Ichel. I wrote it in a way that you don't need to have read Once it Gets Dark to enjoy it.
I always enjoy making these little notebook pages because they make me feel like I'm actually somewhat organized. 😂
Here's what I'm planning for the coming weeks!
I'm currently serializing Of Loyalty and Shadow in weekly installments. Once all the parts are out, they'll be compiled into a larger chapter for those who prefer reading in one sitting.
The audiobook also continues with Chapters 13 and 14 of Once It Gets Dark, and I have another little worldbuilding post planned as well.
As always, this is the current plan rather than an ironclad promise—but it's what I'm aiming for!
In the very near future, Germany has fallen to the Veril, an alien race of dark elves. They have no interest in land or resources since their realm is vast and bountiful. What they need are women, because no Veril girl has been born in centuries.
Faced with extinction, the Veril strike a Treaty with the defeated German government that grants them the right to reproduce with the country's women.
Six months after the Treaty is signed there is a knock on Katharina's door in a small town near Heidelberg. Standing outside are a high-ranking Veril Colonel and his men who have come to escort her and her parents to the occupied city of Hamburg.
This is the first Chapter of Of Loyalty and Shadow, my new novelette that follows Colonel Vik Ichel. I wrote it in a way that you don't need to have read Once it Gets Dark to enjoy it.
These are some of the binding marks worn by the Veril in Once It Gets Dark. Depending on the symbol, they can signify identity, family, military rank or other kinds of belonging.
I drew these as if they were pages from an anthropologist’s notebook documenting Veril culture. There are also a few symbols here that haven’t appeared in the story yet.
A star-blessed Summer Solstice to all of you, my loves!
Finally, the curse of the long days is over and Mother Night is reclaiming her due.
In celebration of this joyous occasion, I have decided to share yet another deleted scene with you. It is from Chapter 13: Summer Solstice. In the end, I decided to have the romantic scene between Anna and Vo'ren take a different course, and I am very happy that I did, but I thought you might still enjoy this little exchange between the two of them.
I wish you a wonderful day and an even more wonderful Little Night!
It's Anna's and Vo'ren's anniversary today, and in honor of this special occasion I wanted to share a deleted scene with you all, in which Vo'ren demonstrates a romantic, and, frankly, quite progressive side of himself 😂
This is a scene I cut from Chapter 10, as Anna and Vo'ren walk back from the willow to their tent, because it didn't quite fit the tone and Vo'ren already had several other lines talking bad about human men in the same conversation.
The Lord of the Flame has returned to collect Sophia's part of their pact.
I posted a long excerpt from the new chapter below.
The full chapter is available on my Patreon
TAUNUS CHAPTER 4
WOOD TO EMBERS
“Have you grown tired of being my guest already?”
I froze.
Like a desert wind, his aura pressed against my back. Seconds trickled by before I finally dared to turn.
Wearing the same airy clothes as last time, his face covered by the dark hood, he looked strangely at home and at the same time out of place in the luxurious suite.
A flutter grabbed my heart: fear, and something else—a sense of familiarity like the smell of your house when you return after a long journey. I almost took a step toward him, almost wanted to sink into his arms, but caught myself just in time and pressed my back into the door instead.
All my senses focused entirely on him, as if they were following his unspoken command. At least my memories were sharp again—he obviously didn’t need the foggy enchantment of the entry area to keep me trapped anymore, now that he was here in person.
“It’s kind of unpleasant to be a guest of a host you never get to see.” It felt weird to order my thoughts into words, and my voice sounded croaky from not speaking for days.
The dim light of the only burning lamp reflected off his sharp canines when he smiled. “So you missed me.”
THE EXCERPT ENDS HERE. The full chapter is available on my Patreon
Chapter 10 of the audiobook is finally ready. I had a lot of fun recording despite the ear infection making the blanket tent slightly uncomfortable haha
I love you all! ❤️
You can listen to the full chapter here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/audio-chapter-10-159479552
Cover Design by D.A. Bergmann: https://dabergmann.de/
Sophia wakes up in a luxurious room high above a nocturnal city with only fragments of memory left: fire, auctions, iron bars, skulls.
I posted a long excerpt from the new chapter below.
The full chapter is available on my Patreon
TAUNUS CHAPTER 3
THE FORBIDDEN DOOR
Soft carpet under my feet. The low hum of cars outside.
My head was full of white fluffy cotton. No memory, only the present.
What was I doing here?
The heat I had felt just seconds ago was gone now, replaced with the pleasant coolness of an air-conditioned room.
Or had I just imagined the searing flames? And hadn’t there been somebody next to me?
I stretched out my hands, patting the darkness. Smooth wood behind my back. The cold metal of a door handle. Silky wallpaper. And then finally the rectangle of a light switch.
Above my head, a soft lamp clicked to life. I blinked. My eyes were not used to the lushness of the light—but why?
Slowly, my vision adapted. I was in a small entrance area with a shiny dark-wood coat rack to my right. The space opened up into a wider room with a large four-poster bed, the perfect white of its linens blindingly bright against the dark frame. Before a large floor-to-ceiling window stood a table and a comfortable-looking armchair. Despite the soft furniture, the place felt clinical, almost devoid of life.
How did I get here?
I swayed and, following a strange pull, took a step into the room. A faint memory: a recollection of iron bars. Another shaky step. Other girls—what were their names again? Step. Lúcia, Marya… Vaska.
Fuck. I pressed my hands to my temples as pictures exploded in my mind. Imprisonment, the skulls, the auctions.
My lungs grew tight, and I stumbled toward the window.
Space. My entire being screamed for space.
Like a drowning woman, I grabbed the curtains, yanked them open… and breathed in deeply.
Below me lay the glittering lights of a nocturnal city. Tiny vehicles on a still-busy street and even tinier pedestrians. I pulled the entire length of the curtains aside, ignoring the protesting hooks above, and sank into a cross-legged position on the cream-colored carpet.
I drank in the view: tall office buildings and townhouses getting smaller and smaller behind the wide curls of a river, eventually fading into the darkness of fields and trees; the charcoal sky above, a few stars glinting through the glow of the city.
I leaned my forehead against the cool glass. For a long time I just sat like this, allowing the vastness of the panorama to caress my damaged soul.
No more magic. No more earth and decay. It was an utterly human view: sleek glass façades bearing the logos of international banks, bridges with their rolling arches, an elongated skyscraper with a sharply pointed tip like a pencil.
Hold on…
A pencil just like the one I used to look for from the car window as a child, when my family was returning from a trip.
Because it meant we were almost home.
THE EXCERPT ENDS HERE.
The full chapter is available on my Patreon
