Novels by Cardiff pen

The air hit cold against my skin, but it wasn't the kind of cold that bothered me. No — this one I was used to. The kind that settled inside you long ago and never thawed.Lucia…Daughter of the Kravens. They were so powerful. Untouchable. A bloodline stitched into the veins of this nation's war machine.Her father, General Krell Kravens could move battalions with the flick of his wrist.Her mother, Lady Mia Kravens, played the world stage like it was a battlefield.When I asked for Lucia's hand, her father looked me dead in the eye and said:"You'll never be more than a footnote in this country's defense history. You're not Kravens material."He wasn't wrong. Back then, I was nothing but a determined cadet with bloodied knuckles and fire in my eyes. But Lucia…Lucia had seen something no one else did.She was the reason I took the border assignment.To prove myself.To prove them wrong.And ten years later?What had I come back to?A wife ready to sign divorce papers and a daughter wh

The scent of blood still lingered in the air, mingling with dust and the sharp tang of broken glass. My boots crunched softly against the floor as I moved around the living room, gathering the scattered pieces.I cleaned slowly. The mess wasn't only physical. It was a reflection of everything I had left behind… and everything that had rotted in my absence.When I straightened up, my eyes caught the photograph on the wall.Smiling in a field of sunflowers, her arms outstretched toward a sky I had never seen with her.My feet carried me toward it before I realized. I froze, staring at that face—so familiar, yet still foreign.Ten years.Ten damn years without her.I stood there far too long, my chest tightening, before finally lifting the frame from the wall. My hands trembled as I held it. I didn't know if I was looking at my daughter… or at a stranger.With a breath that shook more than I wanted to admit, I set the picture gently beside the couch.The bottle waited where I had left it

I turned around. Slowly.And there she was.Lucia.Her eyes were colder than the border winds, the kind of chill that could flay a man more cruelly than steel ever could. Her hand gripped the pistol steady, though her finger trembled ever so slightly over the trigger."…Lucia," I breathed her name, a sound half ghost, half plea."Don't come closer," she snapped, her voice as sharp as the weapon she held. "If you do, I won't hesitate to shoot."I stood motionless, staring into the black mouth of the barrel—an executioner's promise held by the woman I once swore my life to protect."Lucia…" My tone was quiet, deliberate, a calm that belied the cold weight of the gun trained on me. "You've been coughing for a while now. I noticed it the moment you spoke. You've been ignoring your treatment again, haven't you?"Her brows pulled together, a storm flashing in her eyes. Her hand quivered, but her fury burned unbroken. "Don't," she hissed. "Don't you dare ask me about my health. Don't you pre

Aron moved forward, each step deliberate. His boots struck the marble floor with a cold, unhurried rhythm, like a pendulum counting down to someone's death. His eyes, two shards of winter, locked on me with the unblinking certainty of a man who had already decided my fate.He stopped three feet away, head tilting slightly, his gaze drifting over my features like an appraiser measuring a priceless artifact before smashing it. Then he smiled—a thin, humorless curve of the lips that felt more like a knife than a gesture."You've got a sharp face," he said evenly. His voice was steady, detached, as if this was just another line in a job description.A faint shrug followed. "A shame, really… but I'm just doing a job. Everyone needs money."From behind me, I felt Reynold tense. His weight shifted forward, the telltale signal of a man about to draw steel or throw himself between me and danger."Corwin—" I snapped, without turning. My tone cut through the space like a blade. "Don't."He froz

The moment cracked like thunder.The matriarch slammed her hands against the dining table, "You dare speak that name in my presence?!" she roared."Caleb!" I shouted, stepping past the gilded threshold of civility. My voice ricocheted off the walls, sharp and furious. "Caleb Massi! He's also your grandson, just like Luther! He's, my friend! Tell me how the hell he died!"Gasps erupted. A man dropped his wine. A woman clutched her pearls, across the room, someone backed into a column and whispered a prayer to a god that probably wouldn't help anyone in this.The matriarch straightened like a serpent rearing to strike. Her lips curled, and her voice came back dipped in venom. "How dare a brat from House Caelum barge into my home like a rabid dog?" she hissed. "Do you believe your name makes you untouchable, Evander? Do you think I won't tear down your father brick by brick?"She snapped her fingers like she was sealing a death sentence."Luther!" she barked. "Call that fool Holt Caelum.

Mrs. Grayson's blindness is no small matter. Because only someone truly blind could believe you were ever more excellent than Caleb."Luther shot up from his seat like a thunderclap. His chair scraped backward violently. His fists were clenched, his jaw locked, and fury carved deep into every line of his face.Murmurs exploded around the long table,"Did he just say Daniel?!""How dare he bring up that name here?""Who the hell is this guy? Is he begging to die?"The weight of their whispers was nothing to me. I kept my eyes locked on Luther.Cyrus, ever the loudmouth, jumped up next. "Damn it!" he barked, practically foaming at the mouth. "Does this bastard have a death wish? Get the hell out of this house!"Luther didn't say a word. He just stood there silent, seething like a fuse waiting to catch flame.I leaned in a little. "Then tell me, Luther... Can you say, right here, in front of all these people, how exactly Caleb died?"Silence blanketed the hall for a beat. And then Cyrus