Novels by Lily Monroe

Anthony didn’t object. He only tipped his chin. “You drive. Anyone you can run down—do it.”He himself had no intention of getting in. Dragon-Slayer didn’t either. He stood by the road with a thin, cold smile. “Run them over.”With Anthony present, a solid weight seemed to settle in their chests. Thirteen hunched and hurried over, popped the lock, hotwired it. The engine roared awake; black exhaust snaked along the ground.Just then, several streaks of radiant light burst up from within the city, painting the night as if licked by flame. Dragon-Slayer’s eyes narrowed; his breath deepened. “The brothers have made their move.”“We move as well.” Anthony waved Thirteen on, then closed his fingers. Power streamed from his fingertips into the vehicle’s frame. It spread across the metal like an unseen skin, a faint tracery glimmering and gone.He knew this would draw heavier attention—even a sweeping encirclement. That was exactly what he wanted. Only by wrecking the enemy’s tempo could he

If the Dragon Tiger Mountain people had already withdrawn, there might still be room to maneuver. If not, the net would cinch tight over their heads—a deadly shackle.“No good—I can’t reach them!” Thirteen Smith looked up, unable to hide his urgency.Dragon-Slayer’s brows drew together. He checked the time, murmuring, “By rights, they should’ve been back by now. Don’t tell me—”Anthony looked at the two, eyes sinking. “Then we don’t leave. Not yet.” They turned at once and withdrew from the airport.Hours passed. Dusk bled into a deep black. The worst day in the Solar Kingdom’s recent history seemed ready to close. They didn’t know that the real terror was waiting on the threshold of tomorrow.The streets were empty. From far off, engines rolled like surf sweeping closer. Sirens stretched into ragged lines of noise, scraping between buildings. Official vehicles flooded the roads, near to emptying their depots. Armed police and military took intersections in squads, roadblocks and calt

Boom!His fist swept past like a thunderhead crashing to earth. A shockwave detonated outward from the point of impact, with stone chips and blood flung up in layered bursts. A powerhouse of the Solar Kingdom didn’t even manage to lift a hand before the force punched a hole through his chest. His body folded backwards, eyes still open as he hit the ground. Then a second. A third. Bodies thudded down as if pierced by an invisible blade.From all directions, the survivors gave low, ragged roars—last rage dragged up from weakness. They bellowed, they howled, their voices cracking like throats ground on sand. The roar of self-detonations and the slash of killing overlapped; plumes of blood-flame burst in the air, hot and metallic.Despair spread. Someone clenched a blade—then loosened their grip in the next instant, as if suddenly realizing all struggle only prolonged the time until death. Since Anthony had said he would show no mercy, there would be no luck to be had. His words were a co

They had their backbone—or so they told themselves. To Anthony, hollow fronting was a joke. He had smashed their face in public and kicked over their altar; of course they were angry, of course they balked—but that was all. Anger isn’t a blade. Resolve isn’t a charm.Some looked up—the sky was still iron, thunder-scars not yet faded. Someone gave a brittle laugh; someone else muttered a curse, dropping like a pebble into a deep well without an echo. They ignored Anthony’s warning—whether from fear, or because it couldn’t get through.“Then you die,” Anthony said. Not loud—just stating a fact that allowed no argument.Breaking the Solar Kingdom’s martial line might birth a different order in this land. You need to live before you can speak of principle. He didn’t just believe this—he practiced it.All the Solar Kingdom’s hopes shattered like glass; the edges caught the light, sharp and cruel. Anthony barked a low syllable and stamped; the ground burst underfoot; he surged forward like

The shadow on the Dragon-Slayer’s face suddenly cleared; a thin curve lifted his mouth, like a hunter finally greeting the perfect wind. Anthony slowly raised both arms; with each rise of his chest, vast energy flooded toward his palms like a tide. Air churned; his hems bellied with no breeze. His gaze held steady, like a man opening his arms to an oncoming storm.Since we’re here—since we’ve come this far—then we gamble once.In the next instant, the air rose like a suddenly heaved tide, curling in from all sides. Anthony spread his arms and stepped forward, and the power inside him surged, sweeping upward to braid with the Dragon-Slayer’s cold, keen edge in midair—two rivers of different colors converging beneath the sky. At the moment of contact, the dust around them compressed into an invisible ring that raced outward, rasping across rubble and cheeks alike, cold enough to bite.A shaft of blinding gold broke from Anthony’s body, lightning-veins unfurling from his palms, racing al

He thought—he was going to die.This battle had drained his essence, vigor, and spirit down to the husk, like an old pouch scooped clean. He stood there with a tight ache in his chest, and in his eyes a numb despair slowly surfaced—like only death could close the book.Anthony wasted no words. His aura drew to a needle, momentum cresting—kill again. If not now, when to end the Fiends?He sank his palm; force streamed from spine to arm; a sweeping blow fell. Air boomed; the Fiends were blasted away, kites with their strings snapped, smashing through pillars in showers of stone.They twitched to struggle; weird force flickered along their arm-bones, muscle fibers scaling with light. In Anthony’s eyes, such an uptick was beneath notice.His fingers ringed them like hoops, clamping the trunk; his grip cinched tight.Pop!As if crushing a sack of foul gas, the Fiends blew to a blood-mist in his hands. Stench rolled out, rank and pepper-hot, stinging noses; onlookers turned their faces asid

Adrian’s grip was iron-hard; the man’s face flushed a bruised blue, veins standing out along his neck.“Mm… mm…”He thrashed, desperate to break free.But his strength was nothing against Adrian’s. The struggle only tightened the vise.Just before he blacked out, he fumbled a business card from his pocket and thrust it up.Adrian skimmed the print, then gradually eased his hand away.“A private investigator?”The man slumped to the ground, clutching his throat, dragging air into his lungs. “No—no harm meant, man. I wasn’t here to hurt you. Just confirming your address. Did you have to go that hard? You almost killed me.”“Who sent you?”After that demonstration, the PI didn’t dare dissemble. He sold out his employer in a heartbeat.“The—Logans. The Logan family.”“Friend, what did you do to cross them? They’ve put out a citywide all-points bulletin. Fifty grand for reliable intel on your whereabouts; five hundred grand if someone delivers you to their door.”The Logans?Adrian underst

Ruined—he’s going to ruin me.“Dad, let me explain—” Kyle Logan blurted, panic fraying his words.“Explain what?” Hunter’s laugh was a rasp of fury. “You think I don’t see that petty little abacus in your head? You were waiting for me to die, to break your sister and your mother—and you drove away the man who saved my life.”His hand trembled as he pointed at Kyle. “Well done. Truly my son.”“And that burial plot you so helpfully secured? Keep it. You’ll need it yourself.”“I’m saying this now: as of this moment, Kyle Logan is no longer of the Logan family. He has no claim to our assets or our inheritance. And I, Hunter Logan, do not recognize him as my son.”Kyle hadn’t imagined his father would go that far.He stared, slack and hollow, before collapsing to the floor. “Dad, I…”“Don’t call me Dad. Get out. Cough—cough—”“Hunter, don’t,” Mrs. Logan pleaded, hurrying to his side. “You’ve only just recovered. Don’t work yourself into a rage.”Kayla added softly, “Dad, do you feel any di

Inside the bedroom, Adrian stepped to Hunter Logan’s bedside.“Lucky for you I got here when I did,” he murmured. “Another hour and you’d have been a memory.”He drew a slim case of silver needles from his jacket and laid them out in a neat row.A soft hiss—and a needle flashed between his fingers, plunging with unerring precision into the point over Hunter’s heart.At once, a pale blue vapor pulsed from the needle’s base.“Rise.”With a low command, Adrian’s palms struck the mattress; power rippled through the frame, lifting Hunter from the bed. The same blue aura unfurled from Adrian, cradling the patient’s body in the air.His hands blurred. Needle after needle found its mark, blooming across meridians and nodes.At each tip, the same cool, cerulean light shimmered.“One stitch for life, one for death. Fate is fixed—until it’s not.”Energy flooded out of him, streaming into thirteen needles like silk in a current.Anyone witnessing it would have been struck dumb. The sight was beyo

Harper Green flushed with embarrassment. Did this “con artist” have to commit to the bit so hard?Kayla Logan shook her head through tears. She knew Adrian had just saved her mother—but once the lie unraveled, her mother would return to despair.Orson Montgomery sniffed. “I have practiced medicine for decades without error. Mr. Logan will not survive tomorrow. No one can save him. Young man, don’t spout nonsense.”“Others can’t doesn’t mean I can’t,” Adrian replied.Orson’s smile turned glacial. “Such arrogance. Show me your medical license.”“He—he forgot it,” Kayla blurted before Adrian could speak.Harper chimed in, “Who carries their papers everywhere? Did you bring yours, Professor Montgomery?”Orson hesitated—he had not.“Kidding me?” Kyle Logan sneered at Adrian. “Montgomery’s famous nationwide. He doesn’t need that. Besides, I’ve got friends—I can run your name this instant.”Kayla’s stomach dropped. She scrambled for a defense when Adrian said, unhurried, “I don’t have a lice

Ten minutes later, they rolled up to a sprawling villa.Kayla took Adrian by the arm and hurried inside, Harper trailing behind with a face full of dread.“What exactly is your father’s condition?” Adrian asked. “Tell me everything.”Kayla’s eyes dimmed; a wet gloss gathered along the rims. “Late-stage cancer. He doesn’t have long.”Adrian nodded, unruffled. “You have my word. I said I’ll save him, and I will.”At this point—promising a cure? The man was all-in on his act. Kayla wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or crushed. She let out a quiet sigh.As she did, a woman with a full figure and mournful eyes approached—Kayla’s mother.“Mom, how is he?” Kayla asked.At the question, her mother’s eyes filled again. “My girl… your father… he may not make it.”“No, Mom—don’t say that. I found a master physician. He said—”“Darling, it’s no use,” her mother cut in, voice quavering. “The doctor told me himself—your father has two days at most. After that, not even God can save him.”A dull

Adrian Doyle made his way home.“Mom.”“What is it, son?” Lydia Ramsey heard the strain in his voice and felt her heart climb into her throat.“I broke up with Hailey.”Lydia blinked. Adrian and Hailey had dated for over three years; the families had already met. How could it end, just like that?She didn’t press. Instead, she soothed him. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Then it’s over. We’ll find someone better. There are plenty of wonderful women in this world.”Adrian nodded. “I know, Mom. By the way—I’ve been watching some short medical videos lately. Sit down. Let me take a look at you.”Knowing he was hurting, Lydia humored him and settled into a chair. She expected nothing from his so-called “medical” attempt.She didn’t know that Adrian now carried the Supreme Legacy.After a brief examination, her condition lay bare to him.A pity—curing her would take costly herbs, more than they could afford. Every cent at home was already going to medicine. He needed money, and fast. He stood