Dark Souls Lady Gwynevere Novels & Stories

Caroline, a she-wolf who has been considered a monster since she was a child, can she break the tragedy spell and find her MATE?

The Hunter said as he swung his Silver metal baton back and forth Slowly approaching Daemon who was on the ground breathing hard. “It’s...... not (coughs) over yet” The hunter laughed at his feeble attempt to stand up then dodged a claw from the now awake Gwen, He swung his baton she dodged it neatly but couldn’t dodge the kick that followed which sent her flying to Daemon’s side.

My breath caught, my chest went cold. ‘I must leave. Now.’ Virel’s whispers grew stronger, pulling at me, as if the barrier between worlds was thinning with every passing second. Without another word, I quietly stepped out of the room. *** [Gwyneth] I owe my life to Soren. That is a truth I have never questioned. Lynn, on the other hand, owes hers to High Chancellor Flint. It wasn’t hard to see the cost of what he had done, not when most of his thick dark hair had turned silver, leaving only traces of its original darkness beneath.

Still… she felt strangely close to everything in this place. Even this enormous sacred creature felt deeply familiar to her somehow. Their journey continued deeper inward. Soon, the surroundings grew darker until they finally entered what looked like a massive cave. But at the very end of it stood a gigantic crystal glowing with soft blue-white light, illuminating the entire cavern beautifully. “Come here,” Lady Miravel Moonwyn said gently. “Place your hand on the crystal.” Elena nodded slowly. As she stepped forward, she noticed Moon Seer Hera and the other woman quietly moving aside, clearing the path for her.

Her intense gaze, hardened by countless battles, was tempered by her unwavering loyalty to Somerland. To Elysia's left stood Gareth Swordbane, widely feared and respected as the Sword Demon. He was a tall, imposing figure, his eyes sharp and deadly. Known for wielding a blade with unparalleled mastery, Gareth’s skill in swordsmanship was legendary, his reputation as a ruthless opponent striking fear into the hearts of all who dared challenge him. His sword, an ancient blade etched with runic symbols, was strapped across his back, and his eyes held a piercing focus that spoke of countless battles fought and won.

- Turning away, quickly, without looking back, went out. Through a network of tunnels-corridors, Ulzius led me into a wide cave, divided into rooms by heavy pieces of fabric, stretching almost from the very roof of the cave. It was very dark here, and only the light from the candle in the lantern carried by the priest illuminated our path. Here and there along the way we saw werewolves, some were talking quietly, but, contrary to expectations, there was silence in the cave tunnels, and it was a little frightening - after all, this is a cave and sounds should be carried and echoed! Raising the edge of the curtain, Ulzius waited for me to pass, then he himself entered a peculiar room fenced wi

I ordered Osiris. ‘I need you back at the hospital NOW!’ I linked Selene. ‘They’re going to tear him apart! Linking Selene was the only thing I could think to do beyond barricading the room. I could hear the wolves on the other side tearing through the hospital. Their enraged voices drowning out Lucas’s as he fought to restore order. Lucas was an Alpha, but Selene was an assassin. She was trained to take on multiple targets, many of whom would be larger than her. I hadn’t given her any details in my rush to get her to the hospital, but I trusted my friend would bring enough of her specially trained warriors to subdue the angry mob.

My name is Elora and I reside at the Blue Mountain Packhouse. I have a slim figure, long curly blonde hair which I usually wear up in a bun so it is out of my face. My eyes are a deep blue which I love. I am not a normal girl though. You see I am a shewolf, my rank at the packhouse is an omega. I don’t know my parents because they passed away when I was just a tiny baby, so I don’t have any memories of them. The only thing I have is a necklace locket from my mother. I have never taken it off because it makes me feel close to her spirit.

“So, she is part demon? One of Dante’s sprogs that slipped through the net?” “No,” Lucas leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as a weary sigh escaped him. “Atlas and Amos don’t have wolf spirits remember? Chloe does; Hecate.” “Hecate? What kind of name is that?” “It’s the name of a Greek goddess. As far as we can tell, only the Wolfe line has a wolven spirit with a Greek name. Even Sierra and Alvaro don’t have them. So, how come she has one?” Lucas raised an eyebrow, hazel eyes darkening as the questions piled up. “I think we need to make a call.”

Three years later. The wind in Burkeen howled, dragging snowflakes along the pavement. The heavy car door was pulled open with respectful precision. I tightened the sable coat around my body as I stepped out. Arthur's arms were strong and steady as he held our two-year-old daughter, Emily Graham. Our private driver jogged forward, holding up a large black umbrella to shield us from the snowstorm. Up ahead, a hoarse voice hawked, "Handmade soaps! Lavender and rose oil—"