Blurb：
When exiled Fae princes and desperate mortals collide at the crossroads of worlds, only **Morgan Vespera** - **Liminal Broker** of the clandestine **Limen Guild** - holds the keys to forbidden power. Witness her navigate treacherous pacts using the **Chronos Codex**, a relic that maps destiny itself.
For high schooler **Matilda Pham**, survival means binding a **Lore Sprite** to outsmart her abusive mother **Karen**. But when Morgan unleashes a **Vengeful Spirit** instead, the price becomes a visceral battle for autonomy.
Dive into a world where **Umbral Energy** crackles through soul contracts, **Covenant Wraiths** test mortal devotion, and every livestreamed deal risks exposing the **Axiom Faction**'s shadow war. Will Morgan maintain balance between realms, or will the **Architect**'s grand design unravel?
Content：
§PROLOGUEA whisper of ozone, the scent of a storm that broke centuries ago, clung to the worn leather of my satchel.
Inside, nestled between jars humming with contained spirits, was the contract.
High-risk.
The client, a Fae prince exiled to the mortal realm, wanted to reclaim his throne.
The price he offered was a sliver of summer—three perfect, sun-drenched days stolen from the very concept of time.
“You understand the terms, Your Highness,” I said, my voice steady in the flickering candlelight of his cramped, mortal apartment.
My name is Morgan Vespera, and I am a Liminal Broker.
My job is to make deals between your world and the one that bleeds into its edges.
The Fae prince, looking less regal and more desperate in a faded band t-shirt, nodded, his eyes fixed on the parchment.
“I get my kingdom back. You get… a weekend.”
“It’s more than a weekend,” I corrected, my gaze unwavering as I pushed the ancient quill toward him.
“It’s a memory of warmth for a cold winter. And for you, failure means your name becomes nothing but a forgotten echo.”
I slid the ancient parchment across the coffee table.
“Sign, and your war begins.”
The hook was set.
Not with a threat, but with the promise of his deepest desire, hanging by the thinnest of threads.
§01
“Welcome to the Liminal Brokerage. For those seeking a pact, type 1 in the chat. We’ll talk.”
Seated before the camera, bathed in the cool glow of my monitor, I began my livestream.
My attire was simple: a dark silk blouse, my midnight-blue trench coat draped over the back of my chair.
Professional.
Distant.
The live chat scrolled by, a frantic river of text.
Ever since The Unveiling—the day the governments of the world finally admitted the supernatural was real—my line of work had moved from the shadows to the dubious glare of the internet.
【The government just confirmed ghosts are real, and this chick’s already selling them? Talk about a clout chaser.】
【LOL! Check out her ‘inventory’ in the bio! Covenant Wraiths, Lore Sprites, Rage Fiends… This is peak cringe, guys!】
【Don’t bother, people. The links to her ‘services’ don’t even have a price tag. It’s just some edgy streamer trying to cash in on the hype.】
The number of viewers climbed steadily.
The skepticism was a currency of its own.
For generations, the mortal realm had been a mess of unchecked chaos, its psychic effluence—its raw, untamed emotion—polluting the spirit world.
The balance was broken.
Anima Resonance, the spiritual energy spirits needed to recycle, was in deficit.
Souls were trapped.
So a deal was struck.
The Architect, my superior in the Axiom Faction of the Limen Guild, brokered a pact with the powers of the mortal plane.
Spirits would help mortals resolve their deepest desires, smoothing the psychic chaos.
In return, the spirits would earn the Resonance they needed to move on.
Download the Novellia app, Search 【 959627 】reads the whole book.
The End