Darklord Morningstar Novels & Stories

In the middle stood the Elders, cloaked in white trimmed with crimson, their staffs embedded with shimmering moonstones. The packs were surrounded. Damon stepped forward, his aura flaring wide and bright. “This is an act of war,” he snarled. “State your purpose before I give the order to tear you apart.” Elder Marcellus, the oldest of the Council, stepped forward. His eyes were cold. Sharp. Too knowing. “Alpha Damon of the Silvercrest Pack,” he declared. “You harbor the Eclipse Luna—an unregistered, untrained wielder of forbidden moonlight.”

Khaos's armor cracked and shattered, its dark, twisted plates crumbling to the ground as the dragon's flames seared through the metal, scorching the Demon Lord's skin beneath. Khaos stumbled, his eyes wide with agony, as Ronan and Dynaris continued their relentless assault. The flames danced across his body, consuming his dark magic and weakening his defenses. The Dark Lord's screams grew louder, more desperate, as he realized his powers were dwindling, his control over the shadows faltering.

ruggedly handsome, in a diminutive kind of way. "Captain Illustrious Thorias says that you are dealing in morning star, a crime punishable by death in our world." "Sir," Thorias muttered, flitting up on dragonfly wings, "what I said was --" "We're not dealing IN morning star," Shamira protested, "we're dealing WITH it! As in trying to track the guys down who are doing the killing and distributing? And the buying?" "That's what I said!" Thorias reiterated. "No, you flew into the royal bedchamber while I was giving the Queen a royal thrill and starting screaming about giants and morning star."

For a moment, his hounds paused and looked up, they seemed to have understood what he said and indicated that they, too, can hear the whispers of their Lord. “Soon, the vessel will awaken,” the Ardmhaistir said as he continued his monologue, “When the Lord is finally free the new vessel will become the new Demon King! And soon the world will once again taste our reign: the reign of darkness and of blood! The Ardmhaistir looked at his hounds once again, “you will have your feast as well. You will soon be able to eat more than just those scrawny things. You will have an eternal banquet from the corpses of the fallen.” This is not just a hunch; the Ardmhaistir knows this to be true. His connect

"I don't sense any darkness within her." "Dante?" Chloe looked between Lucas and Dagmar. "Who is Dante?" "Dante was a demon." Lucas replied. "A few years back he tried to create an army of hybrids including demon-werewolves. He was defeated but not before he succeeded in fathering two demon-werewolf hybrids." "That we know of." Ursula interjected. "No one knows for sure if there are anymore or not." "So, you think I'm part demon?" Chloe asked slowly, not totally believing what she was hearing.

And then of course, there was my dear brother, Khor, or as he was now known, a Dark Lord Khor. I knew he was coming for her. After all, Dragana was his granddaughter, but I suspected that he too was more focused on prophecy then anything else. His timing was curious to say the least. Our world was under some type of attack – things have shifted and I could sense the change. I knew that even Frist Dragon’s forces were attacked. We all knew something different was happening. Khor had to have sensed it too. An extremely powerful witch and lethal Lycan, his strength was legendary and I knew he used dark magic too. I am not sure if he knew that Dragana was with Alpha King all this time, but those

The green monster wailed loudly as its eyes shed blood drops but his mourning couldn't last long a minute when Lyceon butchered its head from its animalistic body and it hurled around at the corner. Allison’s breath hitched seeing his cruel end. She was not someone who was immune to violence and obviously staying behind in the pack during wars to take care of injured members didn't let her experience any sort of fights on the battlefield. But today, this small or not so small combat left her into the abyss of swarthy brutality. She realised the saying was true. He is called the Dark Lord for a reason. She tried to rub her chest to avail a greedy breath, meanwhile her teary eyes raised up see

she answers him. “Fuck,” he whispers to himself. “I don’t even know how to talk to him right now,” Alex pulls out a little book. She opens it to reveal the name, Drago Morningstar. Adrian looks at her, “Isn’t that his…” “Shut up Adrian. I will use this,” she says. Adrian turns his head as he picks up on strange footsteps. He sees Lucifer’s armored guards walking towards them. “I don’t think you will need that,” he says and the two vampires give way for them.

"What do you mean the dark lord will come for me?" Aldric exhaled slowly, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. "It is a warning passed down through the generations, child. A child born under the rare lunar eclipse, of Alpha blood, will rise with immense power—power that will tip the scales of war. But it also means…" He hesitated, his expression unreadable. My stomach twisted with dread. "It also means I will be the cause of it." Tobias flinched at my words. "No, Lira, that’s not—"

Energy cracked in the air, thick and heavy, like a storm gathering too close to the skin. And then he walked in. Ciro Hitchdulf. Warlock. Exiled heir to the fallen House of the Ashen Throne. Rumors said he bathed in dragon blood, had a wolf’s temper, and never spoke a promise he didn’t break. He wore darkness like it was stitched into his very muscles, black leathers, storm-gray eyes under obsidian lashes, and a mouth that looked carved to ruin. He stood across the stall, eyes locked on her like he’d already decided something. She felt it in her bones, heat. Not the type she brewed into tonics or steeped into healing charms. No, this heat crawled. It stirred her blood.