Elysian Kotlc Novels & Stories

One of the elders, Roland; a sixty eight year old Lycan and the youngest of the elders scoffed. "With evil comes audacity, I see," He said, "we don't mind your presence in these fleeting moments as long as we get to erase you." Faye let out a low scoff, "You want to kill me." "It is only logical." "How?" She all but whispered, "how is it logical? I haven't hurt or killed anyone here- I'm on your side!" "Watch your tone, monster," The voice came low, but authoritative. Hugh; the oldest amongst the elders at one hundred and four glared.

Her long, thick, curly lashes, small pointy nose, and thin, pink lips must probably be a killer for an elf like Finrod. “Ellaine? Do you hear me?” Caeruleus waved his hand in front of her face. “Ellaine?” “Yes? I’m sorry, what did you say?” She looked away at the two and focused with Finrod. “I smell something here.” Margarette sniffed the air at Ellaine’s direction, “Jealousy..?” She sniffed closer. “Ellaine? You smell jealous.” She smiled teasingly. Caeruleus laughed hard. “Margarette is a funny sort, isn’t she?”

Ayden looked at her seriously and said in a sharp voice: I mean the kingdom of werewolves, and rather, the Lycans. She looked at him to find any sign indicating that he was joking, but he found his attitude very serious, and she thought inside her that he was crazy, so she asked, looking at him, trying to take him as much as his mind: What does the Lycan mean? Are they also delusional like werewolves?

The murder of purebred wolves for their loyalty, coupled with the ruthless annihilation of the half-breeds, was the catalyst. “Alpha Selene of the Mountain Pack has communicated,” Kaelen reported, his voice regaining some of its former authority. “She offers refuge and support.” “And Alpha Magnus of the Lykos Pack,” Aiden said, his voice filled with respect. "He has sent a message: 'Cold is the best defense against corrupted fire. Come to my lands." The Lykos was a legend. Located in the highest peaks, its territory was a natural fortress, almost impossible for any outside force to penetrate, and its Earth Magic was a barrier against corruption.

And in the frostbitten north, the loyal Lycan packs howled, one voice, one vengeance, one war. The Valley of Tears, named for the queens who once wept here, would cry no longer. It would burn. Elara stood atop the battlements, her cloak billowing like stormclouds spun in silk. Below her, an army like none Eldoria had ever seen filled the valley. Lycan. Vampire. Hybrid. Bound not by bloodline, but by purpose. The sigil of Virelith blazed on every standard: flame wrapped in silver, the promise of rebirth through ruin.

– I use my Alpha tone “That doesn’t work with me Alpha, you can use that tone of voice as much as you like, I am not a wolf, and I don’t obey you” The council has one member of each species, I command our council, we have one representative from the wolves, one from the vampires, one from the angels, one from the demons, one from the humans and we have one from the witches. Why the fuck would they want her seat? “You know that Lorena is the voice of the Witches” – I say

Silence. That’s what five thousand warriors sound like when a five-year-old Lycan pup growls. Elias stood between Kade and Darius, his silver-white fur bristling, puppy teeth bared. He was the size of a regular wolf pup, but his eyes… His eyes were a King’s. Darius’s eyes. "Impossible," Kade whispered, staggering back in the snow. His claws retracted. Even his Alpha aura shriveled. "Lycan pups… they were extinct. The bloodline died with—"

Ezekial asks. “Yes.” Juan replies. “Then it is done.” Elder Mab declares. “Alphas, Luna, you will send word when your pups have been born. We will draw up the treaties and on their eighteenth birthday they will ascend the Lycan Throne.” The entire room seemed to watch us, watch my Mate. I growl out my ascent before taking Rosalie’s hand and leading her from the room. Cain follows behind. None of us speak. We all walk in silence as though we are too stunned to say anything.

They all chorused with confidence and readiness. Then the Royal Crest Pack burst in, and both wolves and Lycans began to fight against each other. Blood was shed, and the Lycans were the one at advantage as they were slaying wolves like it was pretty easy for them. All of a sudden, the wolves moved their second plan into action, and then began to shoot puffs of wolfsbane in the air until it became smokey, and looked like mist. Elias fell to his knees as he inhaled a lot of the wolfsbane, and he began to cough out blood, and became so weak that he felt he was close to death.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" Elias hesitated, teeth worrying his lower lip. "I... I heard something. After. When I was falling asleep." Lucian’s hand stilled on his back. "What did you hear?" "It was...words. Not English. Not anything I recognize. But I understood them. Sort of." Lucian pulled back just enough to see his face, his expression sharpening immediately. "Tell me," he said. Elias closed his eyes and tried to remember. "Valarieth... ien kal’dros... ien savern varak," he whispered.