Exile Hero Novels & Stories

Aldric asked carefully. “Exile,” Xavier said. “Not imprisonment. He’s given us everything he has. There’s nothing more to be gained by keeping him, and nothing to be served by punishing him beyond what’s already been lost.” He paused. “He leaves Bloodmoon territory permanently. He’s given resources for sixty days, enough to establish himself elsewhere. After that, he’s on his own.” The Council considered this. “Some will say it’s too lenient,” Fenris said.

Darian made a sound suspiciously close to a laugh. Kael didn’t. His attention had gone completely still. Not on me. On the stranger. Like something about him had finally clicked into place. The man in the corner pushed away from the wall. Every elder tensed. He moved slowly, almost lazily, as though he were the only person in the room who didn’t find himself threatening. “I was exiled,” he said. His violet-gray eyes stayed on mine. “Years ago.” “For what?” “Riven.” The warning came from one of the elders.

He was a man fighting a war that was already over, a king without a kingdom. Oliver thought about his journey. From the "loser maid" who was mocked and belittled, to the man who now held the fate of a conglomerate in his hands. It had been a long, painful road, paved with betrayal and humiliation. But it had also been a road of discovery. He had found his true family, his true strength, and a woman who was willing to stand by him even when the world thought he was nothing. "Tomorrow," Oliver said, his voice a promise of destruction. "Tomorrow, the world finds out the truth. They’ll see that the man they exiled didn't just survive. He conquered."

“You’re something else entirely.” Something in his tone sent unease crawling up her spine. “Who are you?” she asked. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he crouched near the fire, tossing in another piece of wood. Only when the flames flared higher did he finally speak. “Lucian.” The name dropped like a stone between them. Selene went still. She knew that name. Every wolf did. Lucian Valor. The exiled Alpha. The rogue who had killed his own mate.

“Let’s say you get exiled for something incredibly bad, like murder…” “Yeah?” Celeste’s brows shoot up. “Well, let’s say they end up marking someone. Is that a bad thing?” Ariah frowns. “No, because that’s unheard of. Once you’re exiled, you lose your power. Without power, you can’t access the spiritual realm. You can’t mark anyone, period.”

After sending the text message to Aunt Gracie, I thanked the policemen who helped me and quickly switched to a different hotel after that. It was only then that my tension finally eased up. I felt my pounding heart slowly calm down after stepping into my new hotel room. A short while later, however, I received a notification on my phone. Randell and Evelyn had made it official and gone public about it. They posted a photo of their hands tightly holding each other under the street lamp, and the accompanying caption said, "You're my hero." I was just about to block Evelyn on all my social media too when she suddenly privately messaged me and said, "Cassidy, you've probably already seen my post

Still, she held on. The Exile writhed in the flood. Its form splintered, shadows tearing away like flesh in a storm. The red embers of its eyes flickered, guttered, but still it fought. Tendrils whipped through the torrent, snaring wolves, dragging them into coils of darkness that tried desperately to rebuild themselves. Each wolf snapped and tore until they burst free, silver exploding from their jaws. “You will not cut me out!” the Exile roared. Its voice fractured, desperate, no longer commanding but pleading. “Without me, you are hollow. Without me, you are nothing but beasts!”

The Crown of Rivers leaned forward, eyes deep as tides. “You speak of the girl?” “She is not a girl,” I said. “She is the flame we tried to forget. And she is waking.” A ripple of fear moved through the Circle. “Who found her?” one asked. I let the name fall like a blade. “Azrien.” Shock fractured the chamber like lightning. Some flinched. Some glanced at the empty thrones. One rose as if struck. The youngest god whispered, almost reverent: “The Exiled Light…” The god of judgment slammed his staff. “He is sealed outside the Veil! His name is unspoken!”

Its glow was dimmed and its posture was bowed. Dax rushed to him. “You let her die,” he said, hoarsely. The Guardian turned away. “She is not dead,” it said quietly. Hope slammed into his chest. “Where is she then,” he asked. “Beyond reach,” the Guardian replied, gazing at the sky. Furry followed hope, red-hot and uncontrollable. “That does not answer my question,” he shouted out in frustration. “That is the only answer,” the Guardian replied. “The sovereign chose exile over annihilation.”

An impulsive brat. What other spectacles are involved in this case? An exiled Alpha who wants nothing to do with this. A sigh gets dragged out from my lungs, and I tip my head back to look at the trees lining the courtyard, light of the setting sun reflecting off of new leaves. Even if this turns out to be a disease rather than a curse, this country is doomed. So are Dinah and I. I brush a hand through my hair, pushing it back from my forehead. How am I going to find a way to send her home in the midst of this place when everything’s so out of order?