Exile Kotlc Novels & Stories

I splashed the gasoline into every corner of the room, dousing everything, even that massive mechanical eyeball. "Shall we work together for the last time?" I pulled out the lighter. No. 99's body was already half see-through, but he still bent down, grabbed the axe from the floor, and gave me a firm nod. "Then let's go to hell together." With a click, flames roared to life. But this time, the fire wasn't red. Because what was burning wasn't wood or furniture, but lines of code and fake models and textures. The flames were a strange, ghostly blue.

“And you even packaged the old goddess for study. My gratitude is boundless.” He stepped into the ossuary, his boots crunching on bone-dust. His men fanned out, covering us. “The Alpha is entombed. The Exile is bound. The packs above are tearing each other apart in the confusion. All that remains is to remove the… sentimental clutter.” He raised the gun, aiming it first at me, then at Lillian in my arms. “History is written by the survivors. And I intend to be the only author left.” This was it. No last-minute rescue. No hidden power. Just a traitor with a gun and the chilling arithmetic of violence.

His Beta took a step closer and whispered something in Liam’s ear before he nodded. “I, Liam, Alpha of the crescent moon pack, accept your rejection and exile you from the pack! You will be stripped of what little rank you might have had. The warriors will make sure that you take nothing of value, and they will escort you out of our territory!” His eyes flashed with hatred, and it pained me to hear them.

His expression was one of steely resolve; every scar on his weathered face seemed to echo the battles fought and the betrayals endured. Hart, his loyal second-in-command, rejoined Donavon at the table. “Alpha,” he said in a measured tone, “the scouts have returned with new details. Not only are the exiles amassing near the ruins, but we’ve intercepted chatter suggesting they’re planning a major offensive. Their leader—this scarred wolf we observed—has been rallying them under a banner of vengeance and old grievances.”

“Four, maybe five months. We were living on their compound with the other exiled Alphas.” My mate lets out a little sarcastic bark. “Exiled? You ran from your pack, you fucking coward.” Johnathan’s eyes flash dangerously. “With no council, that makes me the last authority of our kind.” “What?” Eli spits out. “You would presume that you are good enough-”

She approached him then simultaneously took the baseball bat that Eurus was holding. "To Fend yourself, idiot!" She answered in exasperation as she took the baseball bat. "Fend me from what?" Eurus expressed as he tilted his head with a look of bewilderment. It didn't make sense to him, their actions were so strange. They seem to be avoiding something. "We don't have time to answer your questions," Kaya stated. "Cashew, Peanut, Let's go. Luke is waiting." She added. Cashew, Peanut, and together with Kaya geared themselves as they plan to leave the place. With Cashew holding his combat knife, and Kaya holding an ax as her weapon to wield. Leaving Peanut barehanded, for she still lacks the cou

Recently… - What the heck? Why recently, I ask you!!! - I almost yelled into the phone. “S-sorry,” Tobias began to stutter, “first he reported to the elders… - I'm your head! And it was an order! I don't need the approval of the elders! Do you want to go into exile? - Zark, I'm sorry, I didn't think a couple of hours mattered. - They have! And how!!! - Yes, what happened? The fox isn't answering!

The air inside smelled of spilled whale fat, stale tallow, and the frantic, suffocating sweat of the seven purist elders who had spent the last three hours watching their impenetrable mountain fortress systematically turn into a glacial mass grave. At the center of the pavilion, a low-burning iron brazier cast long, monstrous shadows across a massive oak map table. Lord Kenneth’s youngest brother, Alpha Roderick, stood behind the table, his thick fingers clutching the edges of a tattered leather chart that detailed the smuggling tracks of the Eastern wild. He was a hulking, broad-shouldered wolf, his grey-flecked fur bristling under his dark leather battle tunic, his amber eyes flaring with

"They'll fight cornered—claws and cunning." Clara loped beside me, gray eyes scanning the treeline. "James's remnants—desperate, but dangerous. We take them alive if possible; question their whispers." The gorges loomed ahead, deep and shadowed chasms where the river carved through stone like ancient fangs, walls slick with mist and echoing with the water's thunderous rush. Lira's scouts met us at the rim, their fur damp from swift swims, eyes gleaming with battle-readiness. "They're cornered below, near the hidden falls," a River beta reported, voice clipped. "Exiles—rabid with old grudges, armed with silver-tipped claws from James's vaults. We've felled one; four remain, snarling of 'venge

It’s been a two weeks since the news of Alpha Landon’s supposed death broke. Two weeks have passed since the rogue attack and Matthias still lays unconscious in the healer’s office. And I am no closer to getting the committee to recognize me as anything other than an exile. Word has spread of the Exile Alpha, who has now taken over two packs. I’m officially branded a tyrant and naturally there is outrage as packs that were once our allies pull their treaties, leaving us vulnerable.