Coolkid Fanart Forsaken Novels & Stories

It wasn’t until nearing the end that the quality of the items started to climb again. "Next up is the debut work of the contemporary famous painter Rebecca—‘The Stars Don’t Fall,’ starting at one million!" When the host announced this, the previously dull venue stirred instantly. Many socialite daughters craned their necks in anticipation. Rebecca, the artist, was a mysteriously low-key figure. At sixteen, she painted The Stars Don’t Fall, capturing the joys and sorrows of being human. The masterpiece cleverly uses the starry sky to express a yearning for family and the loneliness that has no outlet, encapsulating the complex emotions of adolescence.

It was all because she was an omega, the lowest sect of Karth, the werewolf world. About her origin, Bianca was a war slave originally from the Ironfang pack. However, a bloody war ensued eighteen years ago between the Ironfang pack and the Drakonvale pack. The Ironfang pack ended up losing most of their territories and thousands of their people were taken as slaves. Bianca was one of them.

“If they call us forsaken, then let them see what the forsaken can do when the moon answers our call.” Their howls ripple through the trees — fierce, uncontained. “Tonight, we do not stand for vengeance alone,” I shout above them. “We stand to restore balance. The moon chose us — not for peace, but for reckoning.” The air thickens, heavy with spirit. “So when your claws find their mark, remember you are not striking from hate. You are striking from truth. You are the howl that rose from silence. And when dawn comes, the world will remember what the night dared to hide.”

He never cared—not even when I was his fiancée. After that I avoided his places, his scent, his shadow. But now? I wasn’t his Luna-to-be. I wasn’t his anything. If I wanted to go somewhere, I would. No Alpha could stop me. At my nod, the girls smiled. Lipsticks clicked open. They weren’t creating someone new. They were bringing back the girl I was—before Caleb Grayson. I barely recognized the she-wolf in the mirror—strapless gown, smoky eyes, lips painted in a shade I had never dared wear.

"Three weeks. When she comes, she won't be merciful. She won't be kind. She'll be what she's always been—absolute." She vanished and the café erupted in noise. Everyone talking at once. Marcus silenced them. "Quiet! We need to strategize." "Strategize what?" Helen the witch asked. "We just declared war on a goddess." "A war we clearly can't win," one of the fae added. "Not with that attitude," Celeste said. "This is insane," a younger wolf muttered. "We should give them the kid and save ourselves the stress and troubles." Kael moved faster than I could track. One moment he was beside me. The next he had the wolf pinned against the wall.

What the hell had fun got to do with physics? Next came The Forgotten, the bitter leftovers from the Cosmos's less successful attempts at creation. They were the gods who remembered that they were actually the prototypes, the versions that got scrapped when the Cosmos decided it could do better. They preferred to stay in the corners, with old blueprints and complaining about how things were better in the "good old days" before the moon got all fancy with its phases. Blame it on the EW anyway. Their power was based on hatred and nostalgia, and they spent most of their time writing hateful notes to the Cosmos about "what could have been."

Eyes like molten amber, claws made of light. Revan pulled me back. “Stay behind me.” The creature’s voice filled the air, deep and calm. “You called me, little flame.” “I didn’t mean to.” “It doesn’t matter. The bond is complete. The child carries what was once mine.” Revan stepped forward. “Who are you?” The creature looked at him. “Your ancestor. The first Stormfang. The one your mother feared.” Jordan’s hand went to his sword. “And what do you want?”

And put it on. “Damian?” He paused for a second. Seraphina stood by the door, her eyebrows drawn together as she watched him. “What’s going on?" she asked. “It’s the Nightfall clan " he replied simply adjusting his sleeves. "They have crossed into our territory.”Her face changed away. "That’s serious.” “It is, " he said. She stepped closer. "Then you shouldn’t be going out like this. It could be dangerous.” Damian looked at her for a second. "That’s why I have to go.”

She would finally be my Luna. Cole opened my room door. It felt odd to walk into my room knowing that Amara wasn’t waiting for me inside. The room would be too lifeless without her. I walked into my room and Cole closed the door behind me. What? I noticed it immediately. My room smelt odd. My eyes quickly found the shadowy figure on my bed. Amara? “Not Isa” Ares reared his head. He confirmed what I already knew. “Identify yourself.” I commanded.

he commanded, his voice steady but filled with restrained fury. The creature laughed, a sound like splintering ice. “I have many names, but you may call me what your ancestors did.” It tilted its head, empty sockets where eyes should have been. “The Forsaken.” I sucked in a breath. The legends spoke of them—servants of The Devourer, creatures of shadow that fed on power and fear. And we had set them free. Lucien’s hands balled into fists. “Why are you here?” The Forsaken lifted a clawed hand, motioning toward me. “Because of her.”