THE Conclave

They say grief comes in waves, but mine didn't. Mine came like a monsoon: unforgiving, relentless, and cold. One moment I was standing on the edge of my childhood, and the next, I was watching two coffins being swallowed by the earth. My mother. My father. Gone. The rain helped. It soaked my clothes, blurred my vision, and made it harder for anyone to tell if I was crying or just weathering the storm. A part of me welcomed it. At least the cold gave me something to feel that

Tokoloshe aren’t lone wolves. They move in troops—tight-knit, fiercely loyal clusters that function like military families, each with their own strengths, secrets, and scars.

He walks like a man sculpted from control. Eyes always scanning. Shoulders taut like they’ve never known softness. He speaks in clipped sentences, and when he does, every word feels like it’s passed through a thousand filters. He doesn't waste breath.

Introducing Derek, a prominent character in Totem Hunter