Arwen Novels & Stories

Aralyn’s irises were morphing from her human lavender blue to neon-purple pits with lilac flakes, which would spill across her eyes when her Lycan was in control. “So, is your decision final, Aralyn? You still want to go to Wengarthria and seek for Marcellus?” I asked again. Aralyn nodded and looked at us with a deep determination written all over her face and said: “I have already told you awhile ago. Before I told you about this, I thought it through and decided. I am not going against my word and am sticking to my guns. So yes, my decision is final. I am going to Wengarthria.”

Before she could respond, trumpets announced the arrival of the royal parties. King Alaric entered first, followed by King Doran Silvercliff, both monarchs resplendent in formal attire. And then came Prince Thorne, devastating in black and silver, his powerful frame commanding attention from everyone in the room. His eyes found mine immediately, as if drawn by an invisible thread. The intensity of his gaze sent heat through my body, my wolf stretching in recognition. Mate, she whispered. Ours. "Stop staring, Arianthe," Isolde hissed. "You're embarrassing yourself."

Surely that should he forbidden to every species. "Nathanial?" a familiar voice comes from behind me. I turn to see Armina, glowing as she looks between me and Selene. "How are you?" she asks confused, "He gave me an opening, I took it" Selene explains as Armina runs forward, surprising me as she throws her arms around my neck; her body instantly shaking in sobs as she struggles to catch her breath.

By his side stood a young woman he introduced as Arwen Arwen looked no older than her mid-twenties. She had the lively eyes of someone who had run wild but also carried the grace of one who knew cities too. Having grown up in Moscow and studied in St. Petersburg, she knew the land and its hidden ways. She was chosen to stay by Elena’s side throughout the journey, to guide her until she was safe and settled in St. Petersburg. Richard spoke with the sharp tone of duty. “Drake is under surveillance by the country’s army, right now. He cannot leave the land for a short while. Besides, he is drowned in corporate matters. He has no ti

Out of nowhere, a bone arrow sliced through the air and struck his chest with a sharp hiss. The arrow, upon contact with Jim's blood, glowed a sinister red. His face contorted in pain, and suddenly, his grip failed him as he plummeted from the sky. I dashed forward, my heart racing, and leaped to cover Jim with my body. The Haunts erupted into mocking laughter. "Jim, we've taken apart the bones of the mortal who wanted you dead and crafted them into these arrows. Take one more step and we'll pin you down in front of your own troops!"

“She says she was already traveling this direction when she heard about the wolfsbane poisoning. Came immediately.” Too convenient. Too perfectly timed. But if there was even a chance she could help Riven— “Take me to her.” The woman waiting at the gates was older, maybe sixty, with silver hair pulled back severely and sharp, intelligent eyes. “Aria Wynter?” she asked as I approached. “Yes. You’re the specialist?” “Healer Nessa. I specialize in toxins, particularly wolfsbane applications and treatments.” She gestured to the large pack she carried. “I understand you have a patient in critical condition. Beta Riven?”

Her auburn hair was braided with crimson roses and obsidian beads, and her ruby eyes shone with fierce, uncontainable joy. Alaric’s hand rested protectively on hers. As they reached the dais, he leaned in and whispered something only she could hear. Victoria smiled — soft, emotional — and kissed his cheek before stepping onto the platform. Then came Raven. General Thorne — newly promoted to High Command of Valros — walked beside her with quiet pride. Raven wore an elegant white gown that seemed to drink in the blood moon’s crimson light and reflect it back as soft silver and violet. The silk flowed like moonlight over water, embroidered with delicate silver ravens in flight along the bodice

“I mean Isolde. Sorry.” Ari. Arwen’s nickname. The one only her family used. “I should go,” Arwen said. “Thank you for coming.” She left before they could respond and walked quickly through the house. They knew, or they suspected. Either way, she’d failed. She made it to the east wing before someone called her name. “Mrs. Ravencroft.” Rowan Kade stood in the hallway. “Not now, Rowan.” “I need a word. It’s important.”

Yes, her mother is pretty better than a flashy prince because she's braver and stronger than any prince charming because she's a king. "Aban, Agravain, Bedivere, Bors, Constantine, Dragonet, Ector, Galahad, Gareth, Gawain, Lancelot, Lionel, Lucan, Mador, Pellias, Sarif, Tristan." Ruby paused when she noticed the noise get softer until it vanished. "They're retreating?" Grandma Rose wondered listening for any noises.

The woman’s voice, commanding and intense, echoed in her ears as she realized the truth. But as the memory continued to unfold, Katya's shock deepened into something else entirely. She saw the woman placing the spell on Arthur with a look of fierce determination, not malice. Her words, though commanding, were laced with a protective urgency. Katya's heart ached as she understood the true purpose of the woman's spell. That woman had known the dangers Charlotte faced and had used the spell to make Arthur adopt her and protect her from the people who were hunting her mother down. She also put the spell to make Arthur keep Charlotte hidden from the world. Her name not being in the government rec