Evermoor Characters Novels & Stories

Vorlyk had incredible control and thought before acting, which was not something vampires were known for. The Moor appeared calm, his eyes a mystic gray with no hint of amber. The ability to keep his emotions in check during this volatile meeting showed his age. He was quite possibly the oldest person in the room. The Moor was a legend, or a nightmare, depending on which side of history you stood.

He saw a black-haired man with eyes equally as dark. *** "Demaron." Moira whimpered fearfully. Lurching up on her elbows to catch up the coverlet. "I didn't know you were coming!" The man shook with rage. Bloodied dagger dripping over the bedding as he leaned over Moira. Bast blinked blearily a few times, feeling himself waning with every broken beat of his damaged heart.

He said and sighed. Keira held his face. “You didn’t fail me, Callum.” She muttered. “You’re here, alive, remembering me.” She added. “ That’s enough for now.” She said and turned to Ryk, her eyes filled with anger. “What about the survivors? Where do we stand?” She asked. Ryk looked at her. “We’re not done yet,” he said. “Before we got here, I made contact with the Moors, an old pack of wolves living in the mountains.” He said.

Anna, Jor, and Amy stood frozen, their mouths agape, witnessing the astonishing scene unfolding before them. This man, Emile, was unequivocally a werewolf, that much was immediately clear. Yet, the scent of his pack was hidden, off in a way none of them could place. It was evident, even from across the bustling Pit Stop, that he was high-ranking, the sheer authority radiating from him spoke volumes. His aura was undeniably dominant, a palpable force in the air, yet it seemed to visibly soften, almost melt, as his piercing eyes remained fixed solely on Margie.

he stopped and began to weep. " I am so sorry, Alexander. I should have come sooner it is just that I couldn't " he explained himself in tears. His tears cut my heart. I couldn't believe all I had just heard. He was kidnapped and sold as a slave to someone in Sam's pack. " Do you know the name of this silver wolf?" I asked him and he nodded. "I can never forget his name. He is Glover Newmoon, he calls himself Alpha of the Luna Eclipse pack, but in reality, he is a beta. I heard he killed the Alpha and wiped out the entire family." he told me, and my rage grew.

Their skins turning pale, their bodies having sparse flesh atop its skeletal framework and veins turning black making them look more or like zombies. The remaining four had to find a cure for this ailment, "Black Death"; they called it, Kimora was created by them, it came with a price, killing everyone with dark matter and three of the elders died in the process, Kimora was so powerful it did the job but a little too well having a mind of its own the last Elder saw this as a threat had the Kimora gotten rid of and he vanished not to be seen again.

Everything in me wants to hurtle after Willow and drag her back to safety, but I force myself to stay here. “It shouldn’t be much of a challenge,” a young wolf next to me says. “I’m sure she’ll be okay.” I look at the unknown man. “Who are you?” “Damien Harris. I’m Alpha Clive Harris of the Blood Moon pack's son.” I don’t know a Blood Moon pack or an Alpha Harris, but judging by his accent, Damien’s not from around here. “Where are you from?” “Texas.” “Ah. Well…welcome I guess.”

Marquis assured me. Marquis' voice was so familiar to me. I couldn't place it. I've never met a werecat before. I leaned into the crook of his neck as I climbed onto his back. I got a whif of his scent but came out dry to my memory. "Have we met?" I asked softly.'That's him! I recognize his scent... He's younger then when we first met him,' Moro told me. Glad to see Moro came running back. Looks like he sensed I wasn't dying quite yet. I'll scold him for leaving me later. I could feel Moro was tense now. I felt tense. I wasn't sure if I could trust them, now. "You're the vampire," I muttered softly. "Are- you a vampire?" Moro, you dummy. How can he be the vampire I met? He's a werecat.

I see my friend dodging forward now, coming up behind me, but it’s too fucking late! Emory falls backward, the slash of a wolf’s claws ripping through her abdomen as blood sprays across his face. I am there before she hits the ground. I scoop her into my arms as the crowd gasps in shock. I have no idea what Emory had been saying to them, but by their expressions, most of the wolves looked ready to stand down. All but one. Her own fucking father. Blood drips off the claws of Bernard Moonraker as he stands directly in front of me, his fangs showing as he snarls at me… at her.

“Niall, I had that trio tracked. Their scent checks out. Give me the name of the male who moved into the ruins and I’ll have my wolves sniff him out too. Call Rafe, have his rangers do rounds around the Pack Quarter so they can check his markings.” “His name is Johnson Whitmoor, previously from the Moonreach Coastlands, unmated, dark hair and blue-gray eyes. Zuberi has already taken a noticeable liking to him.” “Noticeable? Zuberi is into males, Niall,” Lieli said. “This paranoia is going to get us killed. I didn’t expect the body of that wolf maiden would be floating around in the sacred lake beside our town. You said the water would dissolve her. How the fuck did that happen?”