Elowen Novels & Stories

she hesitantly asked tightening their entwined hands. " I am BENJAMIN DIOR WALKER, the Sanguine Tyrant of the Verboten World."

“Yes, Satan sent me to fetch Evelyn.” “Aren’t you creatures immortal?” asked Zephyrus, and he nodded. “Yes, but Evelyn’s magical scythe seemed to work on us. My father never returned and we have no information about him. So, who are you? You don’t look like her evil minions.” “I’m Romanov Lesnoi from the Russian Taiga, and this is Alpha Zephyrus Averoff and his mate Lena Warrick from Lucania. You’re right, we aren’t Evelyn’s followers. We’re her enemies!” Urko sat upright with a little difficulty, his eyes flashing with a fresh leash of energy.

“No.” “Why not?” “Because I’m not dealing with pissed-off Lunas over a Greek nymph.” I groan, leaning my head back against the chair. ‘He’s not wrong,’ Ace mutters. ‘She’d skin you alive.’ “What about Crosslands?” Zander says quietly, all eyes snap to him, curious and thoughtful. “That works,” Bobby nods slowly. Daniel grins. “Yeah. It does.” “Crosslands,” I say. No objections.I reach behind my chair and pull out the elder’s goblet gold, engraved, humming faintly with old wolven magic. The dagger flips open. I slice my palm without hesitation.

Laryn Sir Orland Locksy is a weasel in every sense of the word. I hate him and I hate the realm he lives in. Mucky skies, putrid air, and immoral people. I call it hell's realm. It's also my favorite place to collect treasure. My dragon brothers and I have been many times. It's always a challenge and, best of all, dangerous. I should feel apprehensive bringing my bride here, but what I feel is exhilaration clear to the tip of my dragon's tail.

“You want revenge, right? Take her instead.” The wolves glanced at each other, confusion plastered on their faces. The one with the dagger held us close to his neck and groaned, “Her?” “Yes. Her!” Cryus said in panic, “She is not just any prisoner.” His tone is calculating and dubious. “The lady you're all staring at is Elowen Wynter, the Lycan princess of the Heliotrope. We all know Alpha Dorian despises lycans. Just imagine his happiness when he cuts her throat in front of everyone. Don't you think that'll be great?”

It ignites a rage within me that I dare not unleash for my own plight. When I shift my focus to his adversary, I understand why he believes that hope is gone. “It required five men to subdue the large one,” Lord Marius informs my father. “He took down three of them. He’s not very talkative, but we suspect he’s one of the alphas—likely from the Midnight Clan. Quite an impressive specimen, wouldn’t you agree?” The larger male embodies the essence of the untamed and rugged mountains from which he must have originated. He stands tall, with a pronounced jawline, and his muscular physique appears as if it has been sculpted from stone.

Naomi had been invited to play a role in Echoes in the Mist. Elowen, once the crown princess of the Verdant Vale, was never content within the gilded cage of the royal palace. Though born into privilege, her heart belonged to the common folk—to their stories, their struggles, and their dreams. Disguised as a young nobleman, she traveled across the realm under the alias "Elias," championing justice where the law had failed.

"We received your... loud notification. The shattering of a Harvester Command Vessel is a feat usually reserved for the elder civilizations. We wished to see the 'primitive' world that managed it." "You've seen it," I said, stepping forward. I let the "Holy Fire" shimmer just beneath the surface of my skin, a silent warning that the primitive world had teeth. "I am Elena, the Argentum Prime. This is Killian, Alpha-Prime of the Silver Line. You used the word 'Acknowledge.' What exactly are you acknowledging?"

"Get off this soil before I let my wolf rip the throat out of your pregnant body," I snarl, my human vocal cords straining against the low, terrifying growl rattling inside my ribs. My plush frame shifts heavily on the mud, my fingernails digging into the damp pine needles near the stone marker. I do not move back. I do not hide behind the heavy wool of my cloak. I am Elowen Whitlock, a human born without a beast, but the sheer scent of the treacherous bloodline standing before me makes my blood boil with lethal fury.

They scrambled toward the dark rear tunnel, but before Elowen could dive into the opening, a heavy figure lunged out of the smoke, slamming her hard against the stone wall. Elowen gasped as the wind was knocked out of her lungs. She looked up, staring straight into the cold, ruthless eyes of a royal mercenary wearing an iron visor, his heavy broadsword raised high to strike.