Exile Kotlc Novels & Stories

He asked, voice rough. “I came back,” I responded flatly. Elder Marrek’s eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw Kael standing right beside me, fingers locked tight like we belonged together. His gaze kept jumping from my face to Kael’s like he couldn’t decide who was the bigger nightmare. “You…” he started, voice cracking, “you were exiled. Permanently. You’re not allowed on Blackfang soil. Never again.” I opened my mouth ready to rip him apart but Kael stepped forward first. He pulled the scroll from inside his coat, red ribbon still tied, and held it up high so the whole council could see the Iron Claw seal shining under the torchlight.

All because of Kelly Chase's accusation, Jim Luther exiled my father, Frank Jackson, to the wasteland. When I heard the news, I quickly made my way to the place where he was exiled. By the time I arrived, out of breath and covered in dust, the cruel scene before me made me instinctively cover my mouth. Frank was in tattered clothes, and iron chains shackled his feet. He hadn't eaten for days, so he was too weak to even walk. Not long before, he'd fought off rogues. He was now covered in wounds and lying in a pool of blood.

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!”

Nothing responded. "It doesn't want us anymore," she murmured. Kaelenna entered, holding a thin tablet made of fire-baked clay. "I found this in the sealed records beneath the east wing. It's a transcription of the first exile ritual—when the Flame rejected the First Umbra." Maera looked up, brows drawn. "Why does that matter now?" "Because the text didn't describe banishment," Kaelenna said. "It described evolution. The Flame didn't cast them out. It shed them. Like skin."

I stood tall, my pulse steady beneath the weight of a hundred eyes. “All in favor of Lucien Draven, Alpha of the Obsidian Pack, being exiled, alongside his Luna, two Betas, and their females, for willful insubordination and deliberate defiance of council decree in the matter of Kyle Ardent’s execution,” Elder Morthen spoke, his voice low and final, like a gavel striking stone. My jaw clenched, but I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. “Aye,” one Alpha said.

“Kael…” “No.” His growl silenced her. He took a step forward, his presence towering, dangerous. “You swore to protect this camp. You swore to protect the young. And instead, you sold a child’s life for your ambition.” His hand lifted, pointing toward her like judgment itself. “From this night forward, you are no longer one of us. Exile.” The word cracked across the clearing like lightning. Gasps. Shouts. The rogues surged with noise… some relief, some horror, some anger, but the verdict stood. No one dared defy it.

Vivian said, stepping forward to the podium. Gesturing toward me, her voice echoed through the room. “This sort of offense is punishable by death or, at most, if we are to show mercy.” she smirked at me as she dropped the last word.“exile from the werewolf continent.” Exile? That was the same as condemning me to death. Being exiled would mean I wouldn’t be accepted in any other pack. If I went to rogue territory? It was a one-way ticket to my death. Was this it? Time for my story to end?

Whether to abolish the Roguetown before it becomes strong enough to rival the pack, or welcome them back to the pack at a heavy cost. Lifting exile is nothing easy. Thus sentencing one to exile is never a light sentence. An Alpha should never sentence it if they have plans to revoke it, because it will be worth a heavy price to pay. And it was his mistake to give the elders the power to sentence criminals he never personally met to exile. Flavian comes home that night torn; choosing between pride and honor. To be selfless… or to be selfish. For once.

Alpha Gregor said. "Alpha Vincent should know what this is about" Wyatt suddenly said, earning himself the attention of the others. "I mean... the exiled omega whom he took, was from the neighbouring pack" he said and I stared at him, blankly. He was desperately trying to make me look bad, I considered his shameless attempts to be pathetic. "Well, that's true. But, why would they come after us because of an exiled omega?" Alpha Iris asked, tucking the stray strands of her red hair, behind her ears.

“You can't exile her since she hasn't committed the crime of murder.” ”Well, I can since I'm the alpha of this pack.” Kodiak stated with authority and conviction. “Don't tell me that you thought I would give her a prison sentence so that you would sneak her out to another pack to hide?” Conan's reaction to his words made Kodiak feel his gut feeling had been right all along. He had found his pack elder's unfazed attitude earlier suspicious which meant that the old man surely had a trick up his sleeves. He knew that if he did not brand Giselle with the exile mark on her arm now, he would surely find a way to help his daughter escape her punishment.