Eudoria Holmes Novels & Stories

"Did I just hear you say witches?" They both turned around as they saw a blonde haired lady who had a slender body and perfect shape just like Elena. The only difference between them was the height and blonde hair. Clark smiled as he looked at the slender lady who now stood next to them as she occupied the vacant counter seat. "And you are?" Clark asked, still maintaining a broad smile as he looked at her. "Claire Holmes by name." She responded as she looked at Clark as she bit her lower lip. "And you are?" She questioned as she looked at his eyes.

Cordelia Whitmore, the former Luna. Her eyes raked over me, dissecting my simple travel clothes with surgical precision. "So," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "This is what the Elders dragged in from the backwoods." Before I could introduce myself, she snapped her fingers. An Omega servant scurried forward, trembling, clutching a spray bottle that smelled of acrid herbs and chemical lemon. "Cleanse her," Cordelia commanded, wrinkling her nose as if I were a walking disease. "We cannot have the filth of the rogue lands and public transport contaminating my son's home."

An elderly but good looking man greeted as he walked over to us. "Good evening Mr. Hudson and happy birthday," Philip replied with a smile. Undoubtedly the celebrant. "Thank you, son, I'm assuming this beautiful young lady beside you is your wife." I smiled at him, "Happy birthday Sir, I'm Giordana Forbes, Philip's wife." He accepted my outstretched hand. "Babe I'd like you to meet Mr. Denver Hudson my mentor and business partner, Mr. Hudson like she said, this is Giordana Forbes, my beautiful wife."

Odhan asked in confusion. "No, we found something which we never imagined we will find here" Lucifer muttered. "What is it?" Odhan inquired softly. "The queen you just said that I love so much to risk an attack from the dark creatures, and the woman in that Portrait, Theodora, are the same" Darius explained clearly to Odhan. His tone is cold and it sent shivers down the spine of Odhan. "Why the hell are you after everyone I love and hold dear to me" Max snapped at Odhan.

But i still picked the call anyways. "Hi, please are you by anyways, Miss Selene Woods?" - A feminine voice came from the other end, soft, polite and yet, straight to the point. "Yes, i am she!!. How may i be of help to you?" - I replied in a wary tone. "Great!!. My name is Anne Moreau, i'm a manager at Livelia entertainment and also a friend of the professor." - She introduced herself briefly, her tone filled with strict professionalism. " Oh..." - I gasped.

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?” I walked to the far corner of the study and opened the drawer of my desk. Inside, a box. Old. Locked. And untouched for years. Until now. I opened it slowly and pulled out an old photograph. A young woman, beautiful, soft-eyed, with that same raven-black hair and fire in her gaze. Lysandra looked over my shoulder. “Who is that?” I smiled coldly. “Her name was Marissa.”

he said, looking at them. After the first introduction, Cordelia and Helios stepped forward. "Hi, everyone! I'm Cordelia, the daughter of Euphrosyne, the Goddess of joy, and Ares, the God of war. About my skills, well, I have the power to use crystals as a weapon," she said with a smile. "Your turn, Helios," she added, winking at him. Helios smiled back at her, a smile that suggested they became close during their journey. Everyone seemed to have improved their relationships, except for us.

He was dressed in a tiny, custom-tailored black suit with a white button-down shirt, looking like a miniature version of his father. Adrian smiled, effortlessly lifting his four-year-old son into his massive arms, letting Hayes rest securely against his broad shoulder. With his other hand, Adrian firmly gripped Lydia's waist, guiding her as the doors opened. Sitting at the far end of the long table was Eleanor Wolfe. She possessed an ageless, royal beauty, her silver-streaked dark hair styled into a perfect chignon. Her sharp, dark eyes—the exact same eyes as Adrian’s—instantly locked onto the doorway.

It wasn't black. It was a holographic recorder. I touched it, and the image of my mother, High Queen Elena, flickered to life. She wasn't at the Spire. She was standing on the bridge of the "World-Eater," her white-gold eyes filled with a terrifying, motherly pride.

But she wasn't her. "The omega is not her. Eudora is dead." This time, Draven's voice was low and threatening and held a hint of warning in it. Cantor knew it was best to leave the matter alone. Perhaps, he would bring up the topic again, but for now, it was time to dig into the background of a very suspicious woman.