Claggor Arcane Novelas e Histórias

“There have been rogues breaking into witch houses. They aren’t hurting anyone, only breaking in when no one is home. They are taking grimoires, family trees, anything about their histories. We aren’t sure what they want them for. We think someone is behind it but haven’t been able to find any proof. The witches asked us for help because the rogues are our kind. We were asking about Alpha Mitchell to see if maybe he had heard about it. He wont meet with us about anything regarding the rogues unless it is for war.” “So, you are thinking because he won’t meet you and the fact that he was asking about what happens when witches turn 21, he is behind the break-ins with the rogues?” Arya asked wit

Light glowed from their torches. As soon as they approached, the darkness that had been creeping over her receded, and she realized the power must come from one of the warriors. Her gaze moved to the one in the middle, whose bright green eyes seemed to glow with malice, and she realized it was him. She shuddered at the angry look he sent her way, and she wanted to collapse to the ground, though she thought that was more from fear than magic. “What are you doing here, Maclaren lass?” asked the one on his left. He was a slightly older man with a scarred visage and long brown hair. He didn’t seem particularly concerned on her behalf, but at least he wasn’t reacting with rage or fear.

Golden for the birth of crown Red for bringing up the dawn Niveus for the day of rebirth Blue to bring the magic down White for when one is wilted down Scarlet when the hunt is back again Silver blades rise on victory march Love will patch our tattered hearts Smoke on the summon of spirits you choose Black coffins when endowed are buried down Happiness when the lost returns No forbearance for the illicit affairs Lapis Patera when the pure blades rise Nigros for slaughter of the demonic souls Taç for the pure and just reign.

Same thrum of power beneath my skin. “The Drakarae Clan,” she said. “Arcane dragons. They didn’t fight for territory like the others did. Preservation of magic. Seers, scholars, keepers of things better left forgotten. This symbol…” she trailed off, eyes on the illustration. “It’s one of their oldest. A pact rune. Their last-ditch attempt to keep a tether to other supernatural bloodlines once they knew they were going extinct.” I swallowed, my throat dry. “A pact with who?”

He was fine for just a while ago, then what went wrong? my heart racing as Sage pleaded with me to leave. "Lyra, please; I don't want to hurt you. You have to go, now." But I couldn't move; I couldn't tear my eyes away from his desperate gaze. "Sage, what's happening to you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. He growled, his eyes flashing with a feral light. "Just go, Lyra! Please!" But I stayed, my feet rooted to the spot, as Sage's body began to contort and shift. His eyes protruded, his nails lengthening into razor-sharp claws. I screamed as he pounced, pinning me to the ground with a snarl.

She was going to chant an ancient incantation, for where the Umbragon lies dormant and since this incantation was for making it, she said it backward to resurrect it, "Exanimo Umbra, Noctis Obscura, Umbragon! Terrae umbra, Spiritus tenebrae, Umbragon! Arcanum adveho, In obscurum redde Umbragon!"

Does it make any sense? Ann wasn’t sure what would happen to them as time went by. She mentioned one of her granddaughters, Ann Claire, who had come back to the Manor after dying somewhere else, but she soon started to sort of lose her sense of self. Like, she progressively forgot who she was, and started changing. They saw her lose her human shape, until she turned into a blurry shadow and ended up fading away, like a mist blown by the wind.

It feels like my whole body has just flushed with something indescribable. Growls echo to our right. I glance over and my stomach drops. They’re there. Members of the Crimson Shadow Pack. I know their faces. They’re Silas’s cronies. And they’re right fucking there. I recoil slightly, huddling beside Aeron. He sees the movement and both he and Cain let out a warning growl of their own. “Enough.” The Fae man says. “We’re not going to have some territorial showdown between the lot of you.” He says dismissively.

"Remember what they took from us, daughter. Remember why we are here." "I remember everything. Every single detail." "Good. The Rogue King expects results. Do not disappoint me." The crystal went dark, leaving me alone in the silence. I moved to the window and stared out at the pack lands that were once my home. Somewhere out there, Marcus's real killer was sleeping peacefully, thinking their secrets were safe. They were wrong. By the time I was finished, this entire pack would be ash and memory. Starting with their precious Alpha.

Just a dead end. ​"I can't climb that," I whispered, clutching the cloak tighter. "My legs... they won't hold." ​"Look closer, Lycan," Alaric commanded. "Stop looking with your human eyes. Use the wolf." ​Use the wolf. ​I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I reached for that well of fire deep in my chest. It was simmering now, quiet but present. I pulled on it, just a little. ​When I opened my eyes, the world shifted. The darkness brightened. And there, etched into the stone face of the cliff, I saw the faint hum of energy. Runes. Ancient, glowing markings that concealed a narrow fissure in the rock, hidden by a heavy glamour.