Elara Quinn Novels & Stories

“It is the only polite thing to do.” The Elders gave her a look of disgust. “You no longer have any rights Elaina Mason.” “As long as I am an American I have all the rights in the world.” Elaina continued on, no longer caring how mad she made them. “And I have the right to a phone call.” “You are trying our patience child.” Elder Zacariah growled stepping towards her cell. Elaina fixed a look of innocence and confusion on her face. “What ever do you mean Elder Zacariah?”

Margarette left the story of how Ellaine’s voice distracted the serious Finrod unsaid. It drew the concern of the Queen. She roamed her eyes over Finrod’s body in search of cuts and wounds. “I’m fine sister.” “He was scratched with poisoned claws due to his carelessness,” Ellaine blurted before she realized what she did. She blushed in shame. “Your highness.” The Queen turned to her, “What’s your name?” “My name’s Ellaine, Queen Aera.” She can’t meet the queen’s eyes due to shame. “You were on Earth with my brother?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I turned to glance at the party, I made eye contact with Elijah as he chatted up with my bubbly sister, she was grining from ear to ear like the chesire cat, anymore desperate Quinn and you'd score him. Quinn had her hands all over his right arm, as she was most likely sweet talking him. That's all she's good at it, yet she was the perfect daughter, there are many words to desrcibe Quinn Brinx, and none of them is 'perfect'. Her silky grey dress hugged her body, falling down her chest just enough, to show cleavage, way to go Mom. I lookec back at Mira who was also eyeing the pair,she made a face then turned her back to them, keeping her focus on me.

I could hear the distant rustle of leaves and the occasional snap of twigs underfoot. “Who is this source?” I asked, trying to keep up with Selena’s brisk pace. “She’s a bit of a recluse,” Selena said. “Her name is Elara. She’s not part of any pack, but she has a way of knowing things. People call her the Whisperer.” “The Whisperer?” Fatima scoffed. “Sounds like something out of a bad horror movie.” Selena chuckled. “Maybe, but she’s good. Trust me.”

Pack Alpha's, am I right? Elara turned, her emerald green cloak swirling around her like liquid magic. Her eyes — gods, her eyes were something else. They held centuries of knowledge, of secrets that could probably make even the most supernatural being squirm. “Kane. Zane,” she said, each name-dropping like a precision-weighted stone. “I'm Elara. Aria's witch guardian.” She introduces herself. For a moment, the silence was so thick you could cut it with a werewolf claw. Then — because supernatural meetings are never complete without a dash of unexpected humor — Aiden snorted.

Silence The weight of that sentence dropped like a bomb. Alma’s voice was barely a whisper. “You’re lying.” Daniel walked over to the bookshelf, pulled a file from behind a hollow spine, and dropped it on the table. Photos spilled out, of Evelyn, of Daniel, of a young girl with black hair and green eyes, locked in what looked like a medical stasis chamber. “Her name is Elara.” Alma stared, shaking her head. “She was born after you,” Daniel continued. “Genetically designed to be Evelyn’s final version. Smarter. Stronger. Fully compatible with the Phoenix interface.”

"It was a moon of Jupiter. I learned about it when I was a kid. It's not the biggest, it's not the brightest, but it's the quiet one. The one that stays in orbit no matter how the universe shifts. Just… always present." Lily looked at him, eyes un-tensing. "Elara," she said softly, experimenting with the word on her tongue. Brenna smiled. "Elara James-Carlston. She fits that." "She will be an artist," Helena said. "Or a revolution. Perhaps both." Lily rested in against Vandaulf, her cheek against his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around Elara. "She'll be whatever she wants to be. But she'll always be ours."

“And your job is…?” “My job,” Elara said, a smirk playing on her lips as her fingers danced across a keyboard Jack couldn’t see, “is to make ghosts talk and make walls disappear.” A new window popped up on the main screen. It was a live satellite feed, rapidly zooming in on a gritty, industrial section of the city. It centered on a nondescript brick building with a faded sign depicting a howling wolf. “For example, our primary target: The Moon’s Howl. Owned by a shell corporation, which is owned by another, which funnels its profits to an offshore account registered to one… Kael.”

They had worked well together, those few weeks, before the bullies noticed and made their disapproval clear. The day Luna was cornered in the courtyard, the day the knife came out and silver blood stained the snow, Elara had been walking past. She had stopped. Had looked straight at Luna, at the terror in her eyes, at the wolves surrounding her. And then she had walked away. Now Elara Wynn served as Deputy Communications Director for Silvercrest Council. Polished. Neutral. Respected. She sat in meetings with elders, drafted press releases, managed the public narrative of a pack in transition. Her reputation was spotless—no scandals, no controversies, no enemies.

My hands trembled and my lips trembled, and I was going on to explain more, when Adrian, his best friend, came forward. “Calm down, Damien, calm down,” Adrian said quickly, but his voice was very careful and insistent. “This is what Elara did to save your life. It is two years you have been getting blood donations. She has sacrificed everything, her health, her body, herself, to keep you alive. She is thankful, not this indignation. And if she can get pregnant once, she can again. Be lucky and grateful you are alive.”