Barbarian Warlock Novels & Stories

Drago whispered, “Drawn to me like the wind to the ocean, like wolves, as you said. Do you understand now/” She shook her head, unable to utter a word. “I’d like that,” she smiled, “But I have a few conditions of my own, my dark dragon,” she stood tall, and firm. “And what is it you would want,” He asked, amused by her show of strength. “I don’t want to dress like a genie everyday, I want normal clothes, like the mercenaries wear, and I want to train with them. I think I would love to be one.” “I believe we can arrange that, with Drago’s blessing of course,” Angel stepped forward with a smirk on her face, “ He is our boss, but dragon’s are jealous creatures, even my Marcu,”

His fear of these two witches magicks warring with his need to stay close to his mate. Astrid reached out and lay a hand on his thick, sinewy forearm. "Wait, Warrior. There are things we must discuss first. Plans to be made." Brand huffed. "I have no plans that involve witches. My only plans involve getting myself somewhere safe until I can figure out how to get back to my ti…uh, home." "Ahh, but I know your other secret, Brandur the Destroyer. You already let it slip, remember? Besides, the Spirit has shown me. You are not from this time, are you?"

He didn’t stick his hand back through with his middle finger upraised, but he might as well have. “Well, that’s just fucking great,” Ian said. “We need someone with magic to deal with the damn shaman.” Pressure boiled up in me until I thought steam had to be whistling out of my ears. I lunged forward and grabbed Ian by his shirt with both fists, dragging him down until his startled face was on a level with mine. “What the fuck do you think I am, Ian?” I gritted out. “I’m a warlock. I have magic, dumbfuck. And you. Do not. Own me. Are we clear?” I gave him a shake, not that it moved him much. The point got across, though. “If I’m part of this pack, I’m going to pull my weight, and that makes

But, I want to know what is happening and why. "Everyone, I am Barrett. I am the king of the Warlocks. I have heard the prophecy of the light since I was born, and even though I might look like, I am thirty that has been a few centuries of hearing this same tale." Wait, he is how old. I think to myself because he really doesn't look over thirty. "The prophecy speaks of a hybrid being born between an angel and another supernatural." He says but pauses to look at me.

It was just one night that I submitted to her seduction. Oh my God, that pussy was so sweet, as a fucking nectar, I just couldn't resist. And now what? I am cursed to be a beast for eternity. People are dying because I was too weak to resist dipping my bloody wick in the illegitimate daughter of Noosha and Arcanus. Arcanus is more or less harmless. He is a warlock king from the Thessalian tribe of Lapiths in Larissa.

My friends advance alongside me, ready to take on the world. "Stop." My voice rings clear and a wave moves through the room, causing everyone to look at me. Ezequiel laughs hard. "You think your puny tricks can scare me? I am a Warlock, raised on the fears of children, and bred from the ice of hell. Nothing scares me, and definitely not a girl who thinks she's special." His hands move, and a spindly black object shoots towards me, wrapping itself around my arm.

Made of seven interlocking rings of magic. It didn’t just mark an attack. It marked a summoning. And the name scrawled in blood-red ink beneath it made my breath freeze in my lungs. Velarion. He wasn't just a warlock. He was an ancient. One of the Forgotten. Fuck. There were no no boundaries they wouldn't cross.

He asked them and instantly replied. "I am a magician, a dark magician." A cycle is to be completed, the presence of a dark warlock will merge all pantheons and breed war. This is the prophecy, the prophecy spoken off the lips of the being of Secrecy. (CHECK THE FIRST CHAPTER FOR THIS QUOTE)

But I’m here alone, as usual, so I have to put up with whatever the fuck this is. “Get her, boys. Hold her down and we’ll show her what real men can do,” the middle one sneers. My warlock abilities may be weak, but they’re not completely gone yet. And right now, I don’t care how much damage I’m going to do to the bar. I grip the counter. Before they can even move, the floor shudders and the tiles rip apart as vines burst through them, grabbing them all. They fight back, shocked by the sudden aggression on my part, or maybe by the vines.

continued Bibler, “just because he can, doesn’t mean he will. He doesn’t like sorcerers, he himself being a warlock.” “What’s the difference between a sorcerer and a warlock?” asked Claire. “Oh, it’s very straightforward,” said Bibler. “Warlocks kill sorcerers.”