Exile Synonym Novels & Stories

I was having trouble breathing, and my hands were shaking. Thorne went on, his tone becoming icier, "You are a disgrace to the Silverbow Pack." "Your weakness has been exposed. And you are hereby exiled for that. I was struck in the chest by the words. Exile. Lydia watched me, a smirk curling her lips as her eyes glistened with icy amusement. "You know, Thorne is correct. This is not where you were supposed to be. You didn't belong. My world began to spin around me, and my mind went numb. Exiled? Just the clothes on my back, cast out into the wild?

“A doorway to a world devoid of power. Devoid of allies. Devoid of return.” My stomach twisted so hard I nearly folded in half. “No,” I whispered. “No, you cannot.” He blinked at me like I had suggested something inconvenient, such as rescheduling my execution. “You are to be exiled beyond the reach of magic. Beyond the reach of this kingdom. Beyond the reach of all who might protect or follow you.” “No return?” I gasped. “No way back? No path home?” “You will walk among mortals,” he said. “You will forget this life. This place. This realm.”

"Emily Blackwood, you're not just exiled for—for past crimes anymore. You're exiled for—for threatening to return. For promising to—to interfere with mate bond again. For making it clear you—you have no intention of respecting the exile. Of staying away. Of—of leaving them alone." "I'll respect the exile. I'll stay away from—from pack territory. But Caden—Caden Storm isn't pack territory. Isn't—isn't protected location. If he chooses to—to leave pack lands, if he chooses to—to seek me out when he realizes his mistake—that's not—not violating exile. That's him—him making choice. Real choice instead of—instead of forced mate bond."

"I want her exiled." The room erupted again, louder this time. Exile was serious—it meant being cast out from the pack, severing all bonds, becoming a rogue. It was one step below execution. "No!" Brittany shrieked. "You can't—Alpha Jace, please! I made a mistake, I didn't mean—"

Writing the truth, now “To be an exile is not to walk away from home—it is to have home torn away from you. To be an exile is to wear loneliness like a second skin, even when you are surrounded by crowds. To be an exile is to carry silence because no one listens, to carry dignity because they want to see you fall, to carry pain because no one dares share it with you. To be an exile… is to live among humans, yet feel like a ghost.” Michael’s pen scratched. The page filled, his tears dripping onto the words. He didn’t stop.

Jodie Stafford, the wealthiest heiress in Jensford, suffers a horrific car crash that leaves her paralyzed from the waist down, jeopardizing her claim to Stafford Corp. When the news reaches home, my adopted brother, Liam Gordon, drops to his knees in the living room and begs me to take his place in the arranged marriage. Holding my glass of water, I sneer as I take a step back. "Back then, you looked down on me—the real heir you brought back from the countryside—saying I was too uncultured to be presentable, so you forced the marriage alliance with the Stafford family on Liam instead. "Now that Ms. Stafford is paralyzed and a liability, you want me to take his place? Not a chance in hel

she said, loud enough for every pair of ears to catch her words. Nathan’s eyes narrowed. Harris stared at the ground. Emerson barely breathed. “You’re not being imprisoned. You’re not being executed.” She paused, voice unwavering. “But you are no longer of this pack.” The air shifted. Gasps echoed. A woman somewhere near the back dropped something—it shattered. “What…?” Emerson finally croaked, his voice dry. “What do you mean?” “I mean you are being exiled,” Elena said. “You’re rogues now. Stripped of rank. Stripped of protection. Stripped of the name of this land.”

His personality shined too bright, his confidence to take care of the tribe too strong for me to shake. They loved him, just like my father. Many dragons came to congratulate and console him while I stood up from the pile of rotting food. I was now exiled, a piece of rubbish, old food to be stomped upon. My eyes wander to Amora, who hands off a screaming child. Picking up her dress, she runs to me, only to have another dragon lead her to her mate. “Creed,” she whispered softly, her voice tender as the sister I thought her to be. Her eyes soaked, not knowing what to do.

What? "They failed to keep their daughter in line five years ago and teach you discipline," he said stepping closer to me. "I've already signed the papers, Ava. If you walk out that door, if you try to get on a plane or a bus your parents are exiled. Cast out. Rogues." My heart stopped. In the wolf word, exile was a death sentence for people as old as my parents. They wouldn't survive a week without a pack's protection. "You wouldn't," I whispered. " They're your father's oldest friend's"

"Because of the way the bond snapped... it caused a spiritual disturbance. Isabella’s father is claiming you’re a 'dark omen.' They’ve convinced Silas that as long as you’re alive and 'unclaimed,' the bond could still interfere with his new union. They’ve declared you Exiled and Hunted." The breath left Lyra’s lungs. Hunted. In pack law, an exile was someone who was simply told to leave. A "Hunted" exile was a different matter. It meant anyone from the pack could kill her on sight for sport or favor. It was a way to scrub a mistake from the earth. "Silas agreed to this?" Lyra asked, the words feeling like shards of glass in her mouth. Ben looked away. "He didn't stop it. He said... he said t