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"It was a wonderful experience interacting with you and appreciate the way you have planned and executed the whole publication process within the agreed timelines.”
Subrat SaurabhAuthor of Kuch Woh PalHi, I'm Nyonika. I love telling stories that blend magic, emotion, and characters who feel deeply real. I’m drawn to writing about loyalty and the quiet kind of power that shapes destinies. When I’m not writing, you’ll probably find me lost in a book or daydreaming about the next twist in a story. Heir and the Fallen Gods is my first novel, but it’s only the beginning.Read More...
Hi, I'm Nyonika. I love telling stories that blend magic, emotion, and characters who feel deeply real. I’m drawn to writing about loyalty and the quiet kind of power that shapes destinies. When I’m not writing, you’ll probably find me lost in a book or daydreaming about the next twist in a story.
Heir and the Fallen Gods is my first novel, but it’s only the beginning.
Read Less...
I was not home.
The scorched earth told me that much.
Something had come. Not with fire or fury—just silence and power, like it had been waiting.
The past was returning.
Our world was in danger.
I was the heir. And when my father died, I became emperor of the North. But the throne wasn’t empty. Someone else was waiting—someone not ready to let it go.
I had no gift. No mark.
Just the legacy etched into my b
I was not home.
The scorched earth told me that much.
Something had come. Not with fire or fury—just silence and power, like it had been waiting.
The past was returning.
Our world was in danger.
I was the heir. And when my father died, I became emperor of the North. But the throne wasn’t empty. Someone else was waiting—someone not ready to let it go.
I had no gift. No mark.
Just the legacy etched into my bones, and the training they began the moment I could stand.
And now?
Now the world is watching to see if that’s enough.
I was not home.
The scorched earth told me that much.
Something had come. Not with fire or fury—just silence and power, like it had been waiting.
The past was returning.
Our world was in danger.
I was the heir. And when my father died, I became emperor of the North. But the throne wasn’t empty. Someone else was waiting—someone not ready to let it go.
I had no gift. No mark.
Just the legacy etched into my b
I was not home.
The scorched earth told me that much.
Something had come. Not with fire or fury—just silence and power, like it had been waiting.
The past was returning.
Our world was in danger.
I was the heir. And when my father died, I became emperor of the North. But the throne wasn’t empty. Someone else was waiting—someone not ready to let it go.
I had no gift. No mark.
Just the legacy etched into my bones, and the training they began the moment I could stand.
And now?
Now the world is watching to see if that’s enough.
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