Alaric The Originals Novels & Stories

If we could get to Alaric, fishing out Vanessa would be easier and everything that seemed unclear, would become clear. “Alaric is a very powerful, ruthless and cunning werewolf. He used to be a member of the Warlord Pack, but when he betrayed his Alpha, he fled because of the fear of him getting killed.” “As for where he currently is, I can’t really say. But I heard from someone recently that he now works in shadow for someone named Ravyna,” Mum revealed. That was it. Mum had lied about Alaric saving him and Liam. She had been his master all along. But I was confused about one thing.

Alaric is a hybrid Alpha- A Lycan wolf, born from a Pack that rejected him for being different. It wasnt his fault that He was a wolf with mixed genetics from different subspecies of wolves ,yet his father had falsely accused his mother of infidelity, and when Alaric's wolf presented as a Lycan, he was cast out of the Pack immediately. He found solace among the local rogue wolves, who had chosen to reject Pack rules and live outside of the Pack’s conventions that mostly shunned anything different especially Lycans.

The head Alpha Alaric Donovan, the most powerful magnate in the entire werewolf world. I only saw him on the screen. He was definitely #1 World’s Most Handsome Male Werewolf, though personally I would put him up against males of any species. He had crisp black hair and those deep brown eyes typical of an alpha werewolf. He was also something of a mystery, Mr. Alaric, basically a recluse. Interestingly, though, Alpha Alaric’s child had been switched at birth with someone else's child in this very hospital. I overheard it from some of the other nurses.

Alaric stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed. His gaze swept over every pair of fighters with cold precision. When he wasn't speaking, his entire presence radiated the kind of Alpha dominance that made everyone tense on instinct. This was Alaric. The hero of the entire werewolf world. The legendary Alpha who'd risen to godlike status in the Vampire War. Every pack revered him. Every enemy retreated at the sound of his name. But my second look landed on his arm. Alaric wore a long-sleeved training shirt. When he raised his right hand to adjust a warrior's stance, his sleeve shifted slightly, revealing a small patch of skin on the inside of his forearm.

It tripped over its own paws and rolled onto the grass, letting out a high-pitched yip of frustration. ‎ ‎"Alaric!" Elara scolded, running over to pick him up. "You're supposed to be hiding!" ‎ ‎My son. ‎ ‎Alaric had shifted early, at three years old. The doctors said it was the Violet Gene. He was a hybrid, like me, but he had taken to his wolf form with a natural ease that baffled everyone. ‎ ‎He shifted back, the silver fur receding to reveal a naked, chubby toddler with violet eyes that shone like stars.

Alaric. The same man she’d met on the worst night of her life. Months ago, after catching her first boyfriend cheating, she’d stormed into an exclusive club—drunk, furious, and hell-bent on proving she didn’t need him. Across the crowded room, she’d spotted Alaric. A stranger. Confident. Mysterious. Stupidly attractive.

Seeing Alaric this vulnerable—even though it was just a little—already tugged at my chest. “It’s just… been an eventful day, I guess,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’m also wondering what you’re going to do to that waiter.” Alaric chuckled. “Nothing he doesn’t deserve. But if you must know, I’m not going to kill him.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “I’m not a monster, Meadow. Ruthless and tactful, maybe. But no monster.” I feigned a frown, chewing on my bottom lip. “That’s a disappointment. I was kinda hoping you were. There’s something appealing about fucking a sexy man with blood on his hands.”

The witch chuckled softly again. “Oh, come now.” Her voice was filled with amusement. “Let’s not be dramatic.” Marcus turned toward her sharply. “What is it?” The witch smiled. “The first monster.” The words made the air feel colder. Callum blinked. “First monster?” Davian’s jaw tightened. “You mean before the ancient Alphas?” The witch nodded. “Yes.” Her red eyes gleamed with excitement. “Long before wolves had rulers… before packs… before the queen.” She pointed toward the forest.

“Careful.” “I think…” Elena swallowed hard. “I think this is what Alaric wants. If he controls this, he controls the forest.” Ren’s jaw tightened. “Then we destroy it.” Before they could move, the air shifted, and a low, chilling laugh echoed through the clearing. The shadows deepened, and a figure stepped into view on the far side of the pool. It was Alaric. His eyes glowed a sickly green, his smile sharp and cruel. “You’re too late, Alpha,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “The forest already belongs to me.”

When Alaric opened the door to his penthouse that night, he was greeted by the sight of his three children, each dragging a suitcase. “What’s all this?” he asked, bewildered. “We’re moving in,” Artie said confidently, stepping inside without waiting for permission. “You need us.” Alaric raised an eyebrow. “I need you?” Allie beamed. “Yup! We’re here to help you win Mom back.” Arlyle nodded seriously. “And don’t worry, Dad. By the time we’re done, you’ll be the perfect husband.” Alaric stared at them, speechless, as they began unpacking their things. For the first time in his life, the powerful CEO felt completely out of his depth.