📚 Short Stories From The Immortal Quill – Issue #22
Ohhh honey - strap in, sip your enchanted rosehip tea, and clutch those embroidered hankies, because the long-awaited, centuries-brewing, forbidden-flirt-fueled, maddeningly magical romance is about to erupt like a love volcano dipped in starlight and sarcasm!
"Moonlight, Mischief, and the Queen of Ink"
A Bloodthorn Publishing™ Original | World of 4EverMore™ • The Immortal Quill Studio Short Stories
The storm hadn’t even kissed the horizon yet when Alice slipped through the swirling gates of Rosehaven Castle - her ivy-wrapped sanctuary carved from stone and stories, where the breeze always smelled faintly of enchanted ink and wild roses at midnight.
She hadn’t gone to The Gazette this time. No meddling with headlines or bantering with gods.
No.
Tonight, she needed space. Reflection. Distance from the chaos… and from him.
From the god who had been playing footsie with fate, flirting like wildfire, and wielding that maddening smile like a weapon forged in stardust and audacity.
She let out a sigh as she crossed into the Tower Room, her favorite place in the entire castle. The moonlight spilled through the rose-glass windows, catching the ink spells still shimmering on half-written parchments. Her enchanted quill pulsed faintly from its earlier mischief, twitching like it wanted one more word, one more truth.
She set down her tea. Waited.
And then…
CRACK.
A sharp ripple tore through the threads of space and time. The fireplace flared in a burst of violet flame, spilling shadows across the stone floor. The air filled with the scent of peppermint, blood orange oil… and mischief.
Loki.
But not the lounging flirt from The Immortal Gazette. Not strutting. Not smirking.
He stood at the edge of the flames - quiet. Still.
His auburn waves were tousled like he’d run through multiple realms to reach her. His multicolored eyes burned with something far more dangerous than charm: emotion. That usual smirk? Gone.
Alice crossed her arms and tilted her head, trying to ignore the sudden betrayal of her heartbeat.
“Well, well,” she drawled, “look what the cat tricked into the castle.”
His voice, when it came, was low and edged with thunder.
“You weren’t at The Gazette. I searched. Rumple laughed at me. The Quill lied to me. The others are probably writing fanfiction about us already.”
Her smirk twitched. “And you came to Rosehaven… why, Trickster?”
He took a step forward. No illusions. No games. Just raw sincerity wrapped in divine danger.
“Because I’m done pretending you’re just a fascinating mystery.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded, ink-stained parchment tied with a silver ribbon.
Cautiously, Alice took it and unfolded the note. Her eyes skimmed the words:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I'd fight a dragon
To be with you.
She blinked. Then blinked again.
And then… she laughed. That soft, startled kind of laugh she almost never let herself release. The kind that felt too real. The kind that hadn’t escaped her lips since that poet-prince with a tragic backstory and a foot fetish back in 1843.
“Are you - ” she lifted her gaze, amusement flashing in her eyes, “Did you just hand me a middle school love note?”
Loki grinned, the charming menace back in full force. “I considered singing it. But then I remembered your stance on unsolicited musical numbers.”
He took another step forward, the air between them practically sizzling with enchantment and unresolved flirtation.
“Let the others squabble. Let the tales unfold,” he murmured. “I’m here for this. If it’s a war for your heart, I’ll fight it. If it’s a riddle, I’ll solve it. If it’s a game… well, darling, you know I’m the god of games.”
Another step. Closer now. His hand extended - palm up - like a knight offering his loyalty to his queen.
Alice’s heart pounded like a typewriter in a thunderstorm.
“You’re serious?” she said, squinting at him. “Fight a dragon? Please. You’d flirt with it until it got confused and flew off.”
He leaned in, eyes gleaming. “Still counts.”
That made her laugh again - this time unguarded, unstoppable.
And before she could say another word, he kissed her.
It was silly. Flirty. A little messy.
Absolutely perfect.
Thunder and mischief on her lips. And something else too—something far more dangerous than magic: sincerity.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Alice tapped the parchment against the tip of his nose.
“About time, Trickster,” she whispered, slipping her hand into his.
The roses outside bloomed brighter. The fireplace purred like a pleased cat.
It had begun.
The romance. The trickery.
The ink-bound love story of a Norse god and a madwoman with too many secrets and too little patience.
And in the shadows, somewhere deep inside The Immortal Quill Studio…
a new tale started to write itself.
✨🩸 A Bloodthorn Publishing™ Original
From the twistedly magical minds of the Immortal Quill™ Storytellers, welcome to the World of 4EverMore™ – where:
• fractured fairytales wear combat boots
• myths misbehave
• tea spills itself
• and chaos is couture ☕️👑
Featuring your immortally iconic favorites:
• Goldilocks (paranoid and perfect)
• CindaSpy™ (that’s Cinderella with a security clearance)
• Red (badass in boots)
• Snow (soft goth apple queen)
• Dorothy (click it and rip it)
• Beauty (rose-stem sharp)
• Wendy (shadow-slick rebel)
• Alice – Queen of Ink & Lore™ herself
• Loki (divine trickster snack, taken)
• Ivy (Rumple’s sister, lethal in Louboutins)
• And Rumplestiltskin (unhinged, unmatched, unstoppable)
✨ Guest appearances may include sentient teacups, tragic ballgowns, questionable prophecy scrolls, and one flirty, possibly dangerous Elven stranger...
Storytime just got a whole lot more immortal.
Bloodthorn Publishing™ • The Immortal Quill™ • World of 4EverMore™ Universe 💋🔥
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