Cyrus Wyvern Wind Novels & Stories

Alkhun alughs at his joke. Cyan shoots his arrows and a large wind suddenly blew. Cyan's attribute was wind and it fits perfectly for his chosen position, archery. By controlling the wind he could increase the power and speed of the bow. It gives him a large advantage over other archers. No wonder he was at the top of his league despite his bad usage of it. As the winds got stronger CYan concentrated on his target. The flying bird is km away. It was only normal for an archer to see that far, but for

I made a list of the eight, each assigning them to one person. Caden Winnow, Alpha of the Winnow pack Bane Fangworth, Marcel’s father and former Alpha of Fangworth pack Fenrir of the Night, Alpha of Night pack Ragnar Blackclaw, Alpha of Claw pack Lykos Bloodrose. Alpha of the Bloodrose pack Grim, Alpha of the Midnight pack Zayne Wilde, Alpha of the Wilde pack Alaric Wolfsage, Alpha of the Wolf Sage pack I handed each name to the eight assassins. “The last person is Hayden Storm, the Alpha of the storm pack but I will handle that personally,” I told them.

His old vampire servant spoke after putting the tray on his desk, " Your Highness! Are you going upstairs?" Cyrus hummed without retracting his feet from going forward. His old servant reminded peering a look outside through the flapping curtains, " Rain seem to pour longer this time. I was saying that you should take a look at those 'Witchi Herbs' for a once at least. You know that they are effective during the rain."

she asked Katliya. Katliya nodded. "I do remember them all." "Alright." Sydnee squinted her eyes on the small dots written in her fan. It was the special code that was exclusive to her and the Duke. The code was a knowledge passed down by the Mondragon's ancestors and no one in the kingdom except the duke and she could decipher the code. "Let some of them lose their supporters, specially the second prince. There were many white-faced nobles behind his back. Let's gift him something he should be grateful for." Sydnee smiled sweetly and gently fanned her face.

"My father set a trap for your entire line! Kaelen and I cut the winch!" "I don't care about the winch!" Gryfyn roared, his voice echoing off the high stone peaks like a clap of thunder, completely drowning out the sound of the screaming blizzard. He lowered his face until his nose was brushing against mine, his thumb pressing hard into the hollow behind my ear, anchoring me to his mouth with possessive, terrifying strength. "I care about you climbing down an icy mountain on a warhorse! If you had fallen off that cliff, Vira, I would have burned every living thing in the South to ashes!"

She twists away, but the knife catches her fur shallowly, and her snarl shakes the tunnel. Adrian’s wolf hits the courier from the side like a battering ram. The courier slams into the wall hard enough to rattle dust from the stones. But he doesn’t drop. He reaches for the satchel. For something inside. Violet glass glints. My blood freezes. Vesperbane. I lunge. My jaws clamp on his forearm and I yank with every ounce of wolf strength I have. The vial flies from his hand and clatters across stone, rolling toward a drain.

But the real tether—the faint, warm spark of their soul-bond—throbbed in his chest, urging him onward. He roared, unleashing a spiraling conflagration that vaporized the illusion. “Hold me to my path, beloved,” he whispered into the wind, and plunged ahead. They hit the spiral’s center like arrows loosed from a bow. Light swallowed them—then shattered. --- Silence. No wind, no mist—only the soft, breathing hush of a sun-touched forest. Wyverns circled to a gentle landing among towering silverwoods whose leaves shimmered teal and rose gold. Petals drifted like sleepy snow. In the distance, crystalline spires caught dawn light—Xaerath, restored.

He was a dangerous werewolf, with an aura so chilling it instinctively urged one to keep their distance. "Do you have a thing for him?" I teased. "Ahem..." came Yvette's flustered cough from the line. "I'm not that foolish! It's just that the Gross Group is reportedly looking to invest in drones. I thought I'd check it out for potential collaborations." I hesitated, an instinctive sense of danger making me reluctant to see Cyrus again. Yet deep within me, my wolf stirred unusually, emitting a faint sigh. The mere thought of Cyrus's scent—a blend of cedar and leather—triggered an inexplicable signal of affinity. My tail tip seemed to brush against my spine, carrying a longing I couldn't quite

The forest trembled beneath the weight of wings. Shadows slid across, blotting out the stars, fifty hunters of nightmare, bound by blood-oath and gold glided effortlessly. The Wyverns came first. Twenty-five scaled reapers, their sinewed bodies gleaming like wet iron beneath the moon. Their wings were vast, membranous sails, beating against the treetops. Spines ridged their backs like serrated blades, and from their fanged maws dripped venom that hissed where it struck the leaves. Their eyes burned with the dull red of banked embers — cold, intelligent and merciless.

Zale hid behind me, as if he can hide, he is basically taller than me. "And? What do you want?" I asked. The man with wings was taken aback as I look at the elder with fiery eyes. The man yelled when something was burning beside him, but Zale immediately extinguished it. "The wind told us that you are planning to save Zephyrine. Please, I ask of you fated ones, help us to have our princess back. This knight-dom is not as peaceful as it seems, they are simply using my daughter's power and draining her." The man with wings cried. I looked at him, so he is Lady Zephyrine's father?