Dark Haired Elf Novels & Stories

Present time The man they rescued was large, broad-shouldered and muscular. His fists were twice the size of Nio's, his hair long and curly, the colour of copper. He was shorter than Nio, but most races were shorter than elves. His skin was very dark. The only people in Raal who were so dark came from the south of Malfer.

Standing in front of the cracked mirror on the wall, she looked at her reflection. An elegant but strongly built humanoid, with a tanned, olive skin stood in front of her, her brown, thick mane of hair touching the back of her calves. Her light brown eyes were full of a fierce fire that came with the lineage of the House of Zauarn, or The Children of Fire. Her lips were full and pink which contrasted drastically with the rest of her strong build. Aelanor parted her hair behind her ears, and unstuck her ear out of the glue that concealed them. There! She had no more reason for a disguise if she were going back to her homeland.

The war that took Anna's life. The Elves are divided into two groups, those who choose darkness and those who choose light. The dark elves want to rule the world and become the leader of the creatures, as well as making humans into slaves. The dark battle that Drake did not want to remember began long ago. But if there were indeed elves traces here, it certainly wasn't a very good sign.

"Welcome to Volkar, Princess Diana." He removed his helmet, revealing a stern and battle hardened face with sharp wolf features and piercing grey eyes. "The home of Prince Draven."

And she would watch. Far beneath the earth, in the Obsidian Glades of the Dark Elves, Prince Veyrin stood in the Hall of Black Glass. Torches of cold blue flame reflected endlessly in polished obsidian walls, turning the chamber into an infinite night sky. His skin was the deep indigo of midnight, hair black as void and braided with silver chains. His armor—black leather and mithril—already bore the ceremonial cloak of deep purple, embroidered with silver spiders and crescent moons.

Those who live for ever see know reason to hurry. Even the shortest elf was taller than most werewolves so it wasn't hard to spot them over the heads of the pack. They stood straight and the expression on each of the elves faces was a mask of perfect serenity. They're hair was long and flowed down their backs almost unaffected by the wind. Their wore loose flowing robes of green and yellow that his their footsteps so that they appeared to float up the path and to the patient alpha.

Witch. It was how my brain processed new information and stored it when I assessed someone new for the first time. I could accurately guess height and weight and everything I learned about the person would be stored there. Malachi was looking oddly at me. Malachi Sinclair. Six foot four inches. Two hundred and seventy pounds. Dark brown hair. Gray eyes. Wolf. I turned my head when a chair scraped along the floor. Kiran Sinclair. Six foot four and a half inches. Two hundred and eighty pounds. Black hair. Blue eyes. Married to Adara Sinclair. Wolf and witch. Alpha. He was half an inch taller than Malachi but his aura seemed stronger.

But the front reception desk is completely empty. I tap my fingers against the marble counter. A moment later, a tall figure walks briskly out of a back room, her face set in an expression of absolute, freezing indifference. An Elf Awakener. The Elf race is a massive faction in mythology, and the girl walking toward us is undeniably a Dark Elf. Her skin is a flawless, intoxicating shade of deep, silky obsidian. Her long hair is the color of midnight, and delicate, dark-silver cuffs trace the elegant, pointed tips of her ears.

Her eyes, solid silver with no iris, widened as I came barreling out of the darkness. The other was smaller. Human, or close to it. Young, maybe nineteen, blonde hair pulled back in a rough braid, wearing servant's clothes that hung too loose on a frame too thin. Her eyes were brown, wide, terrified. My hand shot out. The shadows responded before my fingers made contact, wrapping around the dark elf's throat in a coil of living darkness, lifting her off her feet, pinning her against the stone wall. Her hands clawed at the tendrils but found nothing solid to grip. The shadows tightened.

For our future. An arrow whizzed by me and hit the attacker I was going for. The thud of the object against his back, penetrating the layers of armour startled the Dark Elf that was looking at me with bloodshot eyes under his helmet. Their skin was darker than Pernwél’s ivory one, giving a blue-ish glow to their complexion. Their ears were pointier, than the elves I had met until now. I noticed as the Elf before me was struggling to get his helmet off in the pursuit of oxygen. The poison had reached his bloodstream and he was fighting the suffocating effect of the lethal plant concoction.