Elven Heartbound Novels & Stories

"My lady." "The Ravenglade Pack," Lena said, "is the oldest wolf pack in this realm. Older than the Greywood, older than the southern assemblies, older than the covenant itself. They haven't had formal contact with the Citadel in one hundred and twenty years. They are also, according to the Shunned Star texts, the pack that was specifically entrusted with the preservation of the Shunned Star line's ceremonial knowledge — the rituals, the old forms, the wolf-ceremony traditions that apply specifically to my bloodline's bonding."

Elara quickly hid behind a tree, watching where her stepsister was heading. Due to Elara being wolfless, most of the Lycans and werewolves in the pack couldn't catch Elara's scent, especially when she was outside, and the earthy aroma of soil and plants from the forest was strong. The Forestheart pack, nestled amidst thick trees in the heart of the northern part of Summergrave, was enveloped in dense foliage. Because of this, Fiona couldn't pick up Elara's faint scent anymore, making it easy for Elara to follow her gaze without her noticing.

"But be aware that the road ahead requires more than just bravery. It requires sacrifice. Bringing the Prophecy to Light The group was taken by Elarion into the centre chamber, where a huge crystal pulsated with an unearthly light while hovering in midair. As if reacting to an invisible force, runes moved and glowed as they spiralled around its surface. The companions' arms stood on end as the electricity in the air around the crystal hummed. The keeper said, "This is the Heart of Elarion," It has the ability to either magnify or expel the Shadow. What you do will determine the outcome.

said Henry. “According to lore, it is believed that if an elf wears the Silverling Heart, he, or she, becomes immune to silver and can create silver elements out of nothing, or turn anything into silver,” said Panjik. “Elf? I can see Phraton wanting it for himself,” said Coralis.

A circle of binding magic flared at her feet. Kael leapt forward with a snarl, but the force threw him back, crashing into a pillar. Dain followed with a spell of his own, but it fizzled mid-air like dust. Only Vesper remained steady. “You’re after her.” “She is the heart of the kingdom,” the figure said simply. “And the heart must choose.” “I won’t,” Elara hissed, lifting her chin. “Not like this. Not with death as the cost.” The hooded man stepped forward. “Then watch as they burn.”

The orb in Elara’s hands glowed softly, its pulsing light stretching shadows across the walls, revealing faded runes that seemed to murmur tales of a forgotten age. Caden took point, sword in hand, his muscular frame taut with readiness. His keen eyes swept the path ahead, searching for danger. “Stay close,” he said, his voice a deep, steady growl. “We don’t know what’s lurking below.” Elara trailed behind him, her fingertips grazing the ancient runes as they descended. “These carvings—they’re older than any records I know. The Worldheart’s power has been locked here for centuries, maybe longer.”

It fell halfway in, claws scrabbling, green light flaring wild. The elder screamed in rage and poured more magic into the chains. The Bound started dragging itself back up. Gunnar's voice was right in my ear. "Hold it, Elva. I've got you." I held. Sweat ran down my back. The bond kept the power from ripping me apart. Then Jakob's voice cut across the chaos. "Now!" From the trees on our right flank a fresh wave of wolves poured out. Fifty more. Fresh. Not tired. And at their head rode Sveinn, still bruised but alive, eyes locked on me with pure hate.

“A heart may fear what destiny demands, but it will always remember what made it feel alive.” A Heart Against Destiny Elara did not sleep. She tried. She closed her eyes. She listened to the quiet sounds of the camp—the crackling fires, the distant voices of warriors, the wind moving through the trees. But every time she drifted toward sleep, she saw the same thing. Riven. Not his face. Not his smile. The moment the First Guardian looked toward him and spoke of the forbidden bond.

Malcolm placed my phone on the table, then wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin again in the hollow of my shoulder. "It's okay," he said. I froze. "W-what did you do to her?" "Nothing." He brushed his hand lightly over my hair, like he was calming me down. "I just let her hear something." "Hear what?" I pressed. He was quiet for a moment, as if choosing his words. "Some electrical current. And her own heartbeat, amplified a few hundred times." I pictured it in my head, and my chest tightened. No wonder she had screamed like that.

The hawk cried once, a piercing sound that echoed off the mountains, then flew toward the north. Toward the enemy. Toward the coming darkness. Elara watched until it disappeared from sight, then turned and walked back to her pack, her family, her duty. The council gathered again, their faces grim. "We need to know what we're facing," Caleb said. "We need more information." "We need a miracle," someone muttered. Elara looked at little Damon, who sat in the corner, his eyes distant, communing with spirits only he could see. "Maybe we already have one," she said quietly.