Recent content by Cullen

Cullen let out a slow breath, tilting his head back against the tree trunk, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. The rain pattered against the leaves above, a steady rhythm that filled the silence between them. He should have been angry at Fedyr’s words—at the presumption that he needed watching...

Cullen had barely twisted in his saddle to look back at Leovold when he caught the glint of a blade slicing through the air. A Jarlax rider was bearing down on him, spear raised, eyes locked onto him like a predator closing in. Then, a knife struck. It buried itself deep in the rider’s chest...

Cullen had fought in the air before, but never like this. The sky was a writhing, blood-soaked storm, torn apart by the screams of dragons and the shrieks of dying men. The stench of burning flesh, charred scale, and sulfur choked the air. Wyverns clawed and snapped like rabid dogs, their...

Cullen sat beneath the tree, his back against the rough bark, the weight of the rain a constant reminder of the misery that had become his life. His body still ached from the beatings, the bruises beneath his skin a shadow of the torment he'd endured. His thoughts were just as bruised, battered...

- Borderlands - The Wall - "The beacons are lit! They've breached the city!" What? How? Cullen's breath caught as the cry called across the wall, cutting through the howling wind. He had been on the front lines for weeks, pushing them back, holding the line. Not once had they broken through...

Cullen sat unmoving, his body still, but his fingers twitched slightly where they rested against the arms of the chair. His jaw remained tight, his lips pressing into a thin line as Orissa spoke, yet the moment she mentioned Meala, something in him shifted. Relief. It cut through the numbing...

My Eira, Eira, I have spent my life fighting for things I will never have, and I know now that you are one of them. You were never mine to keep, no matter how much I wished it. And so, this is not a love letter. This is a farewell. I hope he gives you the life you deserve. I hope he treats...

Cullen exhaled sharply through his nose, tilting his head back against the chair with a quiet, humourless laugh. "They can't be undone, Princess." His voice was flat, hollow, his expression unreadable as he stared at the ceiling. His fingers flexed against the plush arms of the chair, itching...

Cullen scoffed. The sound was dry, bitter, void of amusement. His fingers twitched where they rested on the arms of the chair, but he made no move for the bowl of soup or the bread she had set before him. His body was screaming for nourishment, but his pride, his distrust, his sheer exhaustion...

Cullen barely had time to register what was happening before rough hands hauled him up, forcing his weakened legs to support his weight for just a moment before pressing him down into a chair. He braced for the cold bite of iron, for the sting of stone against his skin—yet neither came. Instead...

Cullen barely registered the journey, his mind a haze of memories, of regrets, of the life that had been stripped from him piece by piece. Each step he took felt like another towards an inevitable end. His legs dragged beneath him, his body too weak to resist, but in truth, he didn’t want to...

Cullen dragged the crude edge of stone across the damp wall, carving another line into the tally. Sixteen. Sixteen long days rotting in this cell, waiting for the inevitable. When would they come for him? When would they finally end this? The pile of stale, untouched bread in the corner had...

The sound of her footsteps faded, swallowed by the cold stone walls that had become his prison. The absence of her presence was suffocating, a void that threatened to pull him under. Cullen stood there for a long moment, staring at the space where she had been, his body rigid, breath coming in...

Cullen’s eyes blazed with fury, but the twisted laughter of Ilir sent an icy chill down his spine. Every fiber of his being screamed to charge, to do something—anything—that could tear Ilir’s hands away from Eira. But he was helpless, bound by the cruel reality of the bars between them, by the...

Cullen's jaw clenched so hard it sent a sharp pang through his temples. His grip on her hand tightened reflexively, the anger simmering just beneath the surface threatening to boil over. Eira’s words struck a raw nerve, not because of her sentiment, but because of her ignorance. She didn’t know...