Coolkid Fanart Forsaken Novels & Stories

Darkness then swept forward, seizing me like a tidal wave. Unseen POV Isabel shifted in the cellar, her lips parting as if to speak, but the drug kept her still. Beyond the racks, an unseen presence lingered, silent and patient, watching and waiting. From the top of the stairs, the figure watched with a faint smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Below, Blake Rasta teetered unsteadily, the pack’s infamous drunk, eyes wide and unfocused. A soft whisper floated down, urging him forward.

"It's too dark." I bumped my fist against his chest before venturing deeper into the mountains, using the moonlight to illuminate my way. … In the end, the shamans weren't able to capture the zombie despite working together. They wondered how the zombie could have slipped through their fingers. They began blaming one another, accusing each other of being a traitor. I sighed as I looked at the man who was passed out on the bed with the pink princess sheets, feeling immensely remorseful. Many years ago, Zack gave me the codename, "Clearwind", hoping that I would be able to forget about my unhappy past and keep my senses pure.

A muffled, despairing cry rose from the coven youth, children clinging to their older siblings as the weight of their parents' deaths settled over them. Lila thrashed against her chains, her eyes wild with a vicious combination of hatred and terror, but Jesse’s heavy hand on her shoulder kept her pinned to the floor. “As for the children,” Damon continued, his voice dropping to a lower frequency that vibrated through my chest. “They will not be cast out to starve or be hunted by the rogue factions at our borders.” Ina and I exhaled in relief, sharing a look before we both looked back at Damon.

Hello my friends! I apologize for not updating this week. There were some unexpected, yet happy changes in my family and I've been with my family out of town celebrating. This time off is also helping me get my outlines for the final arc of Forsaken Mate. That's right, we are nearing the end of this story. I want to go out with a bang and make sure it is interesting for you all. I really appreciate all the support you've given me for my first GoodNovel story. I'll be sure to make a proper thank you at the end!!

Chapter 11: The Enemy's Plan Kael's POV The night was still, yet I knew a storm was brewing. Not the kind that came with wind and rain, no this one was different. This was a storm of power shifting, borders being tested, and blood would spill. I stood in my study, staring at the map of territories stretched across my desk. My gaze lingered on the Silverfang Pack's lands, their borders marked clearly in dark ink. Lucian Blackwood ruled there, and for too long, he had acted as if he were untouchable.

“You think he wrote something else about the Forsaken?” “He knew more than he let on,” Nicola replied. “I just need to find it.” Finally, she came upon a passage that caught her attention. The page was heavily annotated, the handwriting sharper and more hurried than usual. “The creation of Forsaken is not random - it’s deliberate. A corrupted energy source fuels their transformation, but it requires a willing participant to guide the process. Look for the signs of manipulation, the whispers of betrayal among your own.” Nicola’s heart skipped a beat. “A willing participant…”

Lykara, her fourth, she crowned with the Fang of the Moon, and he ruled Wolf Kingdom. Donton’s voice dropped lower. “But the youngest was Lupus Tenebris. Impatient, fiery, and ambitious. The Goddess loved him, but she deemed him too young to rule. She promised that in time, when he was ready, she would finish the Cold Realm, a place of winter and shadow. She planned to turn it into a beautiful kingdom and grant it to him. To comfort him, she gave him a companion, Ferrivor, a harmless creature of light. Playful and very loyal. Those were the creatures she planned to inhabit his kingdom.”

“An antidote.” “Give him the antidote if you have it,” Daemon said anxiously. “I don't have it,” the healer responded. “Then where is it?” Fea asked. She raised the arrow and slowly rotated it in her palms. “This sigil, I recognize it. When I was a child my father traded with all of the packs before they broke up. One of the men in the White Fur Pack was a craftsman. He created arrows in a unique way. He used poisons made from herbs touched by shadow that were brewed deep within the ground.” She indicated the etched mark. “This is his work. You’ll have to go there if you want to save your friend.”

“*** Ψυχές χώριες, ψυχές δεμένες. Χρησιμοποιήστε το σκοτάδι μέσα για να τροφοδοτήσετε τη φλόγα της κόλασης που καίει τις ψυχές χώρια. Καθρεφτίστε μας, σκιάστε μας, χρωματίστε την εικόνα μας και προβάλετε την αντανάκλασή μας στον κόσμο. Souls apart ,souls bound. Use the darkness within to fuel the hell flame that burns souls apart. Mirror us , shadow us ,form in our image and project our reflection unto the world.**” I could feel the darkness slowly consuming me more and more as we chanted but I couldn’t stop chanting. It was now too late to go back. Steam soon filled the entire room as the thick dark cloudy like form blinded us only to soon reveal the results of the forbidden spell casted w

The man collapsed, blood soaking the stone as he extended a bloodied scroll. Keira rushed to help him while Aria unfurled the parchment. It was Thorne’s handwriting. Jagged. Rushed. A trail of smeared blood over the final word. “Don’t trust anyone. It was never just the Forsaken. –T” Her breath caught. The air in the room turned razor-sharp. Keira rose slowly, pale as ash. “What does he mean ‘never just the Forsaken’?” Aria folded the note with shaking hands. “It means someone inside these walls betrayed him.”