Eragon Novels & Stories

Ezra, who was sitting beside me, got up from his chair and extended a hand to the Lycan, shaking it. “I believe that you of all people should be aware of my support for Mikhail.” Ezra answered, raising an eyebrow at Killian. “The main question is why are YOU here? I believe that you are a rival?” “Yes, I was a rival to Mikhail’s father, but that does not mean that I have to be toward his son. You know, a family rival can end somewhere, and I choose for it to end with his father.” Killian said, looking at Mikhail who frowned at the sight of the Lycan. Ezra put his hand on his chest, pushing him back.

Yes, she could. “Who is he?” I already knew who he was but I wanted to know if she was going to tell me. His name was Andrew Douglas, aged thirty-two, once employed as a detective in Nevada. More recently he retired, having cashed out his pension and started looking for Charlotte. He would still have friends and connections. Blue was blue.

“Excuse me? Why would I be?” He chuckled, the sound low and rich, like the roll of distant thunder. “No reason.” I glared at him, heat rising in my chest. “You’re impossible,” I muttered under my breath. “Did you say something?” he asked, the faintest trace of amusement in his voice. “No!” I snapped. “Except for the question I asked that you’ve conveniently ignored.” His expression shifted slightly, the humor fading. “I’m Nergal Vorgath, second son of Vorgath. And Merida... she’s a witch we’ve been hunting for centuries.”

"Uhm, can I have your ticket?" Kane raised a brow, amusement flickering in his blue eyes. "Ticket?" he repeated, his voice deep, teasing. The redhead—Mona, according to her name tag—bit down on her plump lower lip, her gaze darting everywhere except at him. "Sorry, it's just... you look familiar." That made him chuckle. Oh, really? He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering to the large poster plastered beside her booth—a giant picture of himself, fists raised, the underground champion.

She nearly rolled her eyes but stayed silent—she had no interest in looking anyway. "I'm sorry," the man rushed out, voice trembling. "I caught the scent of a human and didn't realise she was with you." Orion frowned. He hadn't masked his scent or pheromones, and yet this warrior had been unable to recognise him. That could only mean one thing: whatever Malcolm had injected him with was suppressing his scent. The question was, for how long? "What's your name, warrior?" he asked, voice hard. The Lycan shifted uneasily on his feet. "My name is Vega, Alpha."

Eira's POV My eyes rested on the Grand Cross son. He had wine red hair and intimidating amber eyes with a tall muscular body - he had a medium build so he was just right. He stood beside the Grand Duke's son. His tan skin complimented his hair and eye color so perfectly. Mom must have noticed my fascination which made her clear her throat to get my attention. “ Cleo, this is Kia Charlemagne, a Grand Commander and the son of the Grand Cross. And this is Anakin Valois, the son of the Grand Duke as well as a Grand Commander,” mom introduced.

He was also waving his fist around the air at the same time. The moment Don saw Matthew, he was shocked. Don looked at Matthew as if he was a broadway model, he could not help but check him out. He was amazed and praised him. “Boss, where did you find this monster? If you cultivate this guy, won’t he be even stronger than Kieran Kruse?” Kieran was one of Regal Palace’s eighteen generals from Russia. He was named Regal Palace’s First Hercules and was as scary as a mountain. Don was already surrounding Matthew, touching him.

Hmmph, interesting," Eragon speaks. Eragon picks a wooden sword. The officer of the match Arogonut on butler suit. Pale face, transparent eyes, green hair. speaks. "Are you both ready? "Yes. They replied "Now, Begin." "Are you ready? Eragon questioned Historia "Yes."Historia who promptly replied taking a defensive position without a moment of notice. Eragon rushed towards Historia in a flash. He suddenly appeared before Historia and struck at her with his wooden sword. Slid!

- a hoarse voice says behind me. When I turned around, I saw a huge gray and black wolf that seemed to glow. His eyes were stark white as if he were blind, but he looked me in the eye intently. - Who are you? Where am I? - I asked him. - I have many names, but you can call me Vánagandr. Before the Moon Goddess created the Werewolves, she created the Lycons, and before the Lycans there were only wolves. I am the father of all wolves. As for why you're here, you are between life and death in the great garden that will take you back to life or to the realm of the dead.

Wearing a finely tailored black coat and pants, with an emerald brooch on his lapel, and an emerald ring making a great contrast to the dark coat. The aristocrats and envoys bowed down in front of them when Morrigan and Mathias finally took the last step of the stairs, standing in front of the Prince Regent. The Prince Regent gave them a courteous bow. Morrigan wanted to throw up at how double-faced her uncle is. "You look regal today, Little Raven," the Prince Regent commented. His eyes wandering up and down of Morrigan's fit. His smile not fading away from his face but his eyes had been telling Morrigan that there is something behind those smiles. "Both of you looked so good together, like