Cradle of the Damned

Writer

whitefox goddess

Hi, I’m Whitefox Goddess.

I write things most people are too afraid to say. My stories are stitched from wounds, my poems bleed a little truth. I’m not here to please—I’m here to feel, to release, and maybe, to remind someone they’re not alone.

I’m fascinated by human behavior, manipulation, and the gray spaces between right and wrong. I love writing dark romance, psychological twists, and lines that sting a little—because sugarcoating never saved anyone.

I’m soft-spoken but sharp-tongued when I write. I’ve survived things I don’t always talk about, but somehow they find their way into every word I spill.

So if you're into raw, poetic chaos with meaning—welcome.
If not, scroll fast. I’m not for everyone.

? From the Philippines
? Host of “Kape at Katotohanan” podcast
? Currently collecting heartbreaks and turning them into art.

https://www.wattpad.com/user/whitefox_goddess
www.shortstorylovers.com/whitefoxgoddesslearnstowrite
https://whitefoxgoddesslearns2write.my.canva.site/whitefox-goddess
https://ph.pinterest.com/whitefoxgoddesslearns2write/
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Cradle of the Damned

sheheldthelastdemon.nowshehold

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She works with the dead. He was brought in as one.

Ira Dela Cruz thought she had seen everything—runaways, criminals, overdose victims. But one night, a body arrives at the mortuary... still warm.

He wakes up on her table. Bleeding black. Eyes like fire. Voice like thunder.
He calls himself Seth—and he says she’s the one meant to end him.

Now cursed with a mark that brands her as the “Cradle”—the vessel for a demon’s dying soul—Ira finds herself hunted by creatures not of this world.
Every touch from Seth burns.
Every breath with him shortens her life.

But as shadows close in, and Seth’s memories unravel into something divine and tragic, Ira must decide:
Is he truly damned?
Or is she the one being led to damnation?

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