Bill Weasley Fenrir Greyback Novels & Stories

The sickening sounds of all its bones breaking disturbs the silence hanging over us. As the Goblins body turns limp, Fenrir turns to show me its lifeless head hanging from his jaw. Black oil oozes out of it and falls at my feet. He snarls, unaffected by the taste of tar. I take a step back. Fenrir spits out the Goblins head as if it's a piece of gum and lowers his head, stalking closer to me. I know better than to turn my back on a feral wolf.

But what was he doing here? She approached cautiously, her instincts at war with her mind. Helping a pureblood could risk everything—her life, her people’s safety, everything she had fought to protect. Yet, the animal in her—the Greyskin who could not ignore the call of another wolf—pulled her closer. She knelt by the wolf, her heart pounding. The creature’s breathing was shallow, its body trembling with pain.

Whether he was Morgan or Draco, she didn't want him in her life anymore. Morgan raised his hand to wipe away her tears; he just couldn't keep seeing her crying so hysterically and heartbroken. But when she saw his action, she flinched and backed away from him with her eyes filled with fear. His pupils shrank violently as he stared at her. ‘She was afraid of him. Did she think he would hurt her?’ He thought.

But it is the man at the head of the table who draws my attention. Alpha Boris Greyback is all I expected, except for being bald. He is not bald and intimidating and all harsh lines and cold authority like Dennis Mondragon. He is a broad-shouldered man with a full head of dark hair threaded with silver, kind eyes set in a weathered face, and a warrior's build evident even beneath his casual clothes. He stands when we enter. "Rhea, this is my husband, Boris," Eliza says, making the introduction. "And our daughter, Lorena."

"I want the man who broke my heart to be the one who tries to fix it. I want you to stop talking about the past and show me that you're actually here." A dark, hungry grin spread across Stiles’s face. "You’ve grown some teeth, Grey. I like it. I like it a lot.” “Want to see what this Grey can do?” A dark, hungry look crossed his face, his pupils dilating until his eyes were almost entirely black. "Show me."

Celina squeezed my hand in silent encouragement. The mage unrolled the scroll. “Sector One: Commander Elorin, Sir Darius, Lady Valeena—” Names echoed through the hall. Every group looked more nervous than the last. I could feel the tension creeping up my spine. Then— “For Sector Six,” the mage continued, “Fenrir of the Royal House.” I blinked. What? Fenrir stepped forward without hesitation. “And Selene.” My breath caught. Celina’s head snapped toward me. Even the hall echoed for a moment, as if everyone turned to look.

her room, and we agreed to meet up later once she took some rest. "It's Bella, right?" Gabriel asked me as we walked towards his room. I just nodded a yes. "Is it short for Isabella?" No, my name is Bellatrix," I answered. "Wow, that's a beautiful name. Your name is from the Latin word meaning Female Warrior." What is this guy, a braniac or walking encyclopedia? I had no clue about the meaning behind my name. I just knew that my grams had named me. "Thanks for the compliment, but honestly, I never took the time to look up the meaning of the name my grams chose for me," I told him shyly. "We're here, I hope this room meets your satisfaction. Give me a shout if there is anything you need," I

his voice taking an even scarier tone as he got up and dark clouds poured out of his hands, floating around him. Dread pooled in Soraya's eyes as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. Black magic, she realized with terror. This was her first time seeing him like this. Alwin was an old wizard who was like a father figure to her. He had taught her everything she knew about witchcraft after he had taken her in when she was lost and wandering decades ago. He had always talked about how the witches and werewolves used to live in harmony. This fueled Soraya's hopes when she learned about the prophecy. He turned to her, letting down the hood of his cloak. Soraya let out a silent gasp as she

ohh…and the way the pale sunlight that managed to penetrate the bedroom window was displaying on his skin, giving it a kind of glow, and just to look down at his… Whoa, Marsai!…what has gotten into you? I honestly didn't know. I think it has something to do with the mate bond, the enchantment of the mate bond is just making Fenrir look so…so irresistible right now. Because I don't think that on a normal day, I would say or think of him this way. My eyes couldn't stop taking in every detail of his being. I don't think I've ever noticed just how dark his hair was, it was a midnight black. His eyes were so strange and intriguing, a smoky grey that looked like the weather before a thunderstorm.

The group is having a loud discussion, not an argument, just talking loudly and excitedly about something Greyson had figured out in England. He’s laughing good-naturedly at the old woman who’s prancing about like a teenager having overdone the sugar. Greyson is maybe six foot tall, but it’s hard to tell while he’s sitting. He has pale skin, an aquiline nose, round lips and shoulder-length jet-black hair that’s a mess of tight curls. His eyes though, are stunning. The light from within marking him a Witch, but the shade of green was so vibrant. He definitely wants to get to know him. Greyson smirks,