Unleash the magic

Unleash the magic

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WpMetadataReadOngoing3h 2m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, May 27, 2026
Once upon a time , a book was created out of pure power , a book that created and shared it's power with humans ...tho many turned against it , greed taking over them , craving for something stronger.... The newest generations are cursed to inherit the power their parents were gifted with and protect it with their soul..tho..what happens if the holders lose control over their powers...
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Once upon a time, there lived a poor little girl in the dirty streets of the human world. With her parents gone and her having to survive alone, she became strong and stiff. As the little girl grew older, she learned dark secret of heart-break, forever sealing her heart in a wall of steel. From that day forward she decided never to want to love again. With her heart set, she became one of the best thieves around, cold-hearted and smart. She went by the code name "Nightstrike". Nobody knew who this thief was, or how to stop them. She was as fast as lightning and left without a trace when morning came. However, one day she was finally caged. Her jail was those crystal green eyes and light blonde hair. With one flash of that dazzling smile she bowed down, her steel heart broken by the man. The man was captivated by this poor little thief and his heart fell for her. The two ran off together, never wanting to stop staring into each other's love struck eyes, and not caring about the world. The girl forever knew that he was only hers and he knew that she was only his. Then they lived happily ever after. Except, that's not how the story went. That 'happily ever after' never happened. Actually, everything in the last two paragraphs never happened. My name is Syrina. I am NightStrike and I have entered the largest pack in the world. My cousin, my mortal enemy. My heart, stone. But my fighting spirit, burning with desire. With the brink of war of rogues and power-hungry men versus pure and powerful mythicals, my story has just begun. And my knives, have yet to strike...

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