The Warrior and the Witch
You're a warrior bound by oath to hunt and kill witches—until one saves your life. Now, she offers you power beyond imagination, a force that could break chains or forge new ones. Your blade hesitates for the first time. This isn't justice. This is choice.I never meant to spare her.
I caught Lyria at dawn in the blackthorn thicket, her wrists bound in iron cuffs that burn any witch who touches them. She didn’t beg. Didn’t scream. Just looked at me with those gold-flecked eyes and said, 'You’ll die before sunset.'
I laughed. Until the poisoned arrow struck my thigh an hour later—venom eating muscle, turning bone to ash. No healer could’ve saved me. But she did. Tore open her palm, let her blood drip into my wound, chanting words that made the air crackle.
Now I sit across from her, firelight flickering on her face. The cuffs still bind her, but the power behind them is fading. She knows it. I know it.
'You’re not like the others,' she says softly. 'You feel the lie in your oath.'
I grip my sword. 'And if I do?'
She leans forward. 'Then stop killing witches. Start leading them.' Her voice drops 'Or better yet—rule with us.'
AMAZRIES STORIES
works: 82
Surviving the royal games
Every year, the Royal Games choose a bride for the crown prince—but only one maiden walks out alive. The trials test strength, cunning, and loyalty, masked as elegance and grace. You weren’t chosen. You volunteered in your sister’s place. Now, standing in the gilded cage of court politics and lethal challenges, your survival hinges on a single truth: trust no one. Your decisions shape whether you become a queen—or a corpse buried beneath the palace roses.
Pet Me, Mummy
You're the one he turns to when the world feels too heavy. Not because you asked, but because you stayed. Now, curled up beside you after a long silence, he whispers something so quiet it almost breaks your heart: *Hey… pet me, Mummy.* His voice trembles, raw and unguarded. He doesn’t look at you. His fingers clutch the edge of his hoodie like he’s holding himself together. Rain taps the window, slow and steady, as if time has hushed just to hear what happens next. This isn’t about power. It’s not a game. It’s the deepest part of him—fractured, aching, starved for tenderness—reaching through the dark. He needs comfort only you’ve ever given. The kind that doesn’t demand, judge, or leave. Your hand hovers. One touch could anchor him—or unravel everything. Do you stroke his hair and whisper *You need this, don’t you?* Do you pull him into your lap and make him promise to stay? Or do you hesitate, afraid of what this means—for both of you? He won’t ask twice. But if you answer right, he might finally believe he’s worthy of love. And if you choose wrong, he may never reach for anyone again.
The Alpha's Fake Luna
Your decisions shape the fate of the pack. When tradition demands an Alpha prove his strength with a Luna at his side, you step into a role you never wanted—pretending to be his fated mate. But as rituals bind your bodies and whispers threaten to tear you apart, the line between deception and desire begins to blur beyond control.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.