Caster Chronicles Mga Nobela at Kwento

His words hung in the air as our jaws dropped. Chronicle moved at a surreal speed, almost impossible to follow with the eyes. He lunged, driving his dagger into Crator’s chest. The impact made the man growl menacingly as the weapon slipped from his grasp. “You shit!” Crator grunted, blood oozing from his mouth. Chronicle attempted to withdraw, unaware of the kind of monster he had just encountered—a beast who cared nothing for his life or surroundings, driven purely by rage and vengeance. Crator grabbed Chronicle’s arm, which still held the weapon embedded in his chest, as the rest of us moved simultaneously.

She had vowed to him she would get his notes … but … they’re all in the hands of the Emperor now. “Pardon, Your Eminence,” Quarth spoke up. “But I must say, this chronicler is a traitor. It’s already clear that he has some relations with the dragons … he was able to get much information about them. And his chronicle about Drava, I say he’s a spy from Celestia, Your Eminence. He knows a lot about us and this palace. He should be sentenced to death, just like the other chroniclers.” The Emperor fell silent for a moment as he studied Estevan, who was still begging for his drafts to be spared.

After a few seconds I picked the card only to read a dreadful content. “Sarah Tonks, you have refused to learn the hard way. Be ready to lose your life. STAY AWAY FROM CALEB

The scenario turned awkward, and the tension built just watching it unfold. “Did I ask something wrong?” “No,” he answered. “I lead them like an alpha, but I'm not an alpha. In the early days when the curse began in families, some had crescent moons as their mark. The alphas get a full moon. That hasn't happened in over ten generations.” “But wolves still need a leader,” Orion chipped in. “That's why Mr Franklin, being the one with more experience, is doing that for us.” “Are we done lecturing the newbie so we can get back to business at hand?” Cameron spoke impatiently.

The color reminded her of the roses in her garden back home. “Red," she whispered. Violeta looked at her with a smirk. "That's a good name. I like it." They finally stopped at a heavy wooden door. A golden plaque with the words ‘VIP Suite’ was engraved on it. Two large men stood in front of it. One with a gun, the other with a knife. Evie almost passed out when she noticed they were holding those weapons. “Her name is Red,” Violeta told the guards. Her voice was a little higher though. Like she wanted someone else to hear her.

Ash. His back was to her, but it was unmistakable—the broad shoulders, the dark hair, the way he stood with military precision. He was clad in the armor of a general, his raven-crest insignia gleaming in the candlelight. She could feel the breath catch in her chest, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. Was it really him? Was he here, in front of her, as the empire’s prized weapon? Nia took a step forward, her feet moving of their own accord. But before she could close the distance, a chill swept through her. The hairs on her neck stood on end as if her wolf soul recognized him even before she could see his eyes.

She rolled up her left sleeve showing him the large scar on her arm. “Ouch.” She rolled her sleeve back down. “That’s when Malcom woke up. I’ve never seen him so angry. They were two pubescent alpha males with their fangs and their claws drawn. The fight ended with Malcolm becoming the victor. Malic got worse and Malcolm was the only one who could control him. He knew it wasn't safe for me any more. So, he took them and left. They eventually found more survivors and they united all the werewolves in the forest. They formed a new pack and they made Malcolm their new king.

I cringed at the thought. After a quick military bath, that was a less than five-minute bath. I wore casual clothing and then left our mansion. I left at eight am exactly in my black race car towards Sebastian’s home. Okay I wasn’t that rich but that was one of the advantages of having rich foster parents.