Story cover for The Dagger by mistym8
The Dagger
  • WpView
    Reads 308
  • WpVote
    Votes 68
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
  • WpHistory
    Time 16m
  • WpView
    Reads 308
  • WpVote
    Votes 68
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
  • WpHistory
    Time 16m
Ongoing, First published Jul 11, 2017
She stared up in terror at the dark shadow looming over her. "What do you want?" Theresa Anderson asks with agitation. 

"Mun tya aka," the raspy demonic voice replied in an ancient language.  "The dagger".
 
Theresa Anderson is a professor in religion and archaeological studies. But her fate is about to change as her expertise  is called into action following the strange happenings of a young girl, Kayla, who keeps on defying death even in the face of several suicide attempts. 

 The oldest game in the history of time is about to begin. And it won't rest until it finds its winner.
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Like fire we burn by wordwitch423
52 parts Complete Mature
The Shadow of the East is a monster. Tyrin Caderyn is no better. They've met before, but memory painted each a ghost and a flicker of familiarity. Both of them hail from strong and vicious bloodlines. Time and tragedy and choice bind them together. War is on the horizon, and Shadow is in the midst of schemes and plans greater than her. She's on the run from a man she learned to hate, and her own past. Her secrets can destroy her. Tyrin is an Elite warrior for the Ilystari Realm and answers only to the king and queen. When he's sent to hunt down a powerful female, he doesn't question the orders. But when he meets her, everything changes. Darkness encroaches and alliances break. Bonds are formed and friendships shatter. There is a greater power at play than either of them realized. Has fate drawn them together, or something stronger? -- She huffed a quiet laugh. "Well, I suppose I'll get paid one way or another for his death. If you let me keep his body, you have a deal." Tyrin darted his eyes back to gauge the honesty of her response, but she sounded sincere. He finally nodded. Her grin was nothing shy of wicked. Something inside his chest reared it's sleeping head and purred at that expression. "I hope you and I never meet again. These Realms aren't ready for us." Weren't ready for her, he wanted to correct. A shiver of a promise zinged through his blood and he grinned back at her. "What's your name, little assassin?" She started melting back into the shadows - back the way she'd come to give him the privacy of the kill. "I am no one and nothing. Forget about me, pretty male. It won't do to dwell on a shadow." And then she was gone.
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