Novel & Cerita Alto Valyrio

Somewhere, deep in the heart of Valen territory, a war was brewing. And he—Lucian Wolfe, Alpha of the Eastern Highlands—was drifting further and further from the fire that had once kept him alive.

“Fucking nepotism gave him the role of Alpha, the same with Fenriz’s son.” I can’t help but laugh at his hatred of Creed and the Volkovs. “Ah, I forgot—You’re under the Euro Five so you would hate him. But trust me when I say, you’re better off having him as an ally than an enemy. Nepotism may have given him that role, but he’s turned it into his own. He’s no coward when it comes to dealing with enemies.” Matteo waves off my words with his hand. “Generational hatred is stronger than your words, Nero. The role of Alpha didn’t just get given to us, you know that. You had to earn your title with blood; all those with Italian blood do.”

Interesting. “It’s true. That was pretty awesome,” Rory replied, looking at me with a goofy grin. I narrowed my eyes at him as I took a sip of beer. What was he up to? “What about you, Soph? Do you think Rider will be a good alpha when he takes over the title in a few weeks?” Rory asked, his head tilted to the side as he waited for an answer. “Of course I do. He’s strong, smart, loyal, and caring, all characteristics of a good leader,” I blurted out and immediately covered my mouth with my hand.

For he was Antonio Valencia, heir to a legacy forged in fire and blood, and he would stop at nothing to ensure that his family's honor remained intact. Antonio Valencia stood at the edge of the Valencia estate, his eyes scanning the horizon as the sun dipped below the distant mountains. The sprawling acres of land stretched out before him, bathed in the warm hues of twilight, a testament to the wealth and power of his family. But beneath the surface of this idyllic facade lay a world fraught with danger and intrigue, a world that Antonio was now poised to navigate as the heir to the Valencio dynasty.

We were in another pack’s territory now, and even though they were supposedly allies, it was always wise to be cautious. "You must be the Valentine boys," the man called out, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. "I spoke to your father this morning, he said you might need some help." Tyler stepped forward, extending his hand. "Yes, sir. I’m Tyler Valentine, and this is my brother, Ryder. We're sorry to drop in on you like this with such short notice. I nodded in greeting, doing my best to keep my impatience in check. The Alpha, Jack Naiche, shook Tyler’s hand, then mine. His grip was firm, his dark eyes sharp as he looked us over, assessing.

Hi, I’m Ashthelyn. I don’t really have a last name, but I learned it is customary to take your parents’ name in this realm. My father is Luferine, King of Ethos. So I introduce myself as Ashthelyn Luferine, rather than Ashthelyn of Ethos, 6th daughter of his Majesty King Luferine the Ender. This world has many biblical senses of Hell.

“That’s not good enough. Bring him here now.” Uri nodded shakily and quickly exited the room, not daring to turn his back on his Alpha. He quickly sprinted to the infirmary block and wheeled oriental healer Frederick Gnome back to the Alpha’s wing. “What is it, Ray?” Sir Frederick had no fear of the tyrannical Alpha even though he had gotten him very close to seeing the Grim Reaper just last week. “My name is Alpha Reagan Lorde.” Reagan gritted out. “Do I need to remind you of it again, Frederick?”

I threw too many of them into tree trunks when we were pups. “What the hell were you thinking?” I bark at Alroy, sneaking a glance at Elis’s wolf. He’s trying his best to hide a gash in his belly, but blood is seeping into the dirt around him. “I was thinking three unmated females,” Alroy answers, awfully defiant for how badly his hands are shaking. I snort. Except for the blessed one, not a single one of those females was unmated, and I’d like to see any of my pack brothers claim the blessed one’s wolf. He’s a beast. You can smell his size. He must be as big as a moose.

Victor's POV It was pouring heavily outside, the clapping of thunder and lightning beaming glinted on my father's face. He seemed more frightened than ever, as he stood there by the window, his eyes spelled worry while he held onto a nine millimeter in his left hand and a stick of kindled cigarette in the other, he was left-handed. The quiver of his fingers as he raised it to his lips and took a whiff of the cigarette before throwing the rest of it to the floor and stepping on it to kill the flames.