Fairy Tail Laxus Dreyar Novels & Stories

Lucas said calmly to the deputy dean, Hendrix. "Because you're arrogant, and you don't know your place in society!" Hendrix said while staring at Lucas. "Hehe." Hendrix was flabbergasted, "What are you laughing about?" "Me, Lucas York, am arrogant? Great. I shall let you know what true arrogance is!" Subsequently, Lucas took out the Dragon Slaying Saber from System Space. Suddenly, a five-clawed dragon covered in blood appeared in the air. It was accompanied by a deafening roar that stunned the students.

But in the presence of his hands, or the feel of his heat pressing against me, I will fail woefully. “Don't forget Annatoria,” I whispered to myself while pushing the parcel aside and warning myself not to cry like I did earlier. “Darius is the Lycan. The Lycan is Darius.” ~~~ In the bathroom, the supplies I use were also replicated. So even though I was irked by the perfect similarity, I was glad to be feeling fresh and healthy after days of suffering. After moisturising and pampering my hair and skin, I discovered that even the wardrobe was filled with my clothes. I didn’t dwell much on the insane particularity of the Lycan. Quickly, I selected as many clothes as I could.

They moved forward together, and John's lynx scanned his mate up and down while remaining unnoticed by Darius. "Let's claim mate," his lynx urged mischievously, in John's mind. Trying to rein in his naughty feline instincts, John continued to admire his mate's physique. Darius was clad in black jeans that clung to his legs like a second skin, accentuating his defined muscles. The simple white T-shirt he wore stretched over his shoulders, hinting at the possibility of tearing at the front. Darius was undeniably handsome, tall, and dark, with unruly hair cascading just below his neck. John wondered what it would feel like to run his hands through it, gripping it while... he shook his head, try

It was related to the news of Lukas becoming Dior’s global spokesperson… They even attached promotional photos of Lukas. In the photos, Lukas wore Dior’s newest black tuxedo and white shirt, as well as Dior’s jewelry and watch… Lukas’ hair was brushed neatly to the side. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Xyla. This might be the most handsome man she’d ever seen… Lukas had the ideal looks for female fans to fall head over heels in love with him. Apart from Josh, Xyla couldn’t find anyone in the entertainment industry who could compare in this regard…

We were here to fill graves, not ranks. A sudden hush fell over the courtyard as I stood waiting for orders. That’s when I saw him. The Alpha Prince of Nethian. Lucian Draxon. He moved through the crowd like a shadow, tall and impossibly composed, his black hair gleaming beneath the pale sun. Tattoos coiled up his arms and neck like living vines, disappearing beneath his dark uniform. His violet eyes—unnatural and otherworldly—swept over the conscripts, cold and calculating.

Then a smile creeps across his face, one of those devastating, dimpled smiles that could ruin a woman’s life. “You’re Charlotte. Pretty sure you knew that.” Smug bastard. “You know exactly what I mean, Damon,” I snap at him. The smile fades slowly and darkly. He leans back, arms folding over his broad chest like a wall. “You’re Druiss.” A shiver trickles down my spine. That name again. “Okay… and what’s a Druiss?” “A Druiss is a Dreil.” I groan. “And what’s a Dreil?”

His body was no longer entirely wolf or man; bone and shadow merged beneath skin that pulsed with violet veins. His eyes locked onto mine. Once, those eyes had taught me how to hunt, how to fight, how to rule, now they held nothing human at all. “You still cling to lineage,” Darius said, his voice echoing unnaturally, layered with something vast and hollow. “Father, son, alpha, Titles for creatures who fear insignificance.” The ground trembled as he stepped forward, mountains groaning in protest beneath his weight. Behind me, the air rippled. I felt Lyra before I saw her.

“You crossed a line.” I glared at him. He didn’t flinch. “Dexter,” he continued, voice steady. “You’re a Lance. And whether you like it or not, Lyre is our Princess — not someone we get to… pursue.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. “You’re not some rookie soldier. You’re a Lance.” He tapped my chest. “Start acting like one. War could break out any minute. Silverfang, Ashmore, the Veyr Kingdom, maybe all three of them… we have no idea what’s coming.”

She wears a gown nearly as fine as Araya's, as if she too were the bride. Araya's gaze flicks away. At the end of the aisle, beneath the stone altar carved with wolf sigils, stands Jasper Drevyn. Alpha of the Drevyn Pack. Tall, broad-shouldered, carved from arrogance and ice. His storm-gray eyes lock onto hers, and there is nothing in them. No warmth. No recognition. Just cold assessment, as if she were livestock being led to slaughter. He wears black, always black, his dark hair cut short and severe. His jaw is sharp, his stance commanding. He does not smile.

"It’s such a shame she still refuses to marry." Drex, having been released from the chains on his paws, felt a surge of delight. He strutted proudly, wearing a new outfit that perfectly matched the color of Kiora’s gown. "Wow, you look quite handsome, Drex!" Kiora praised. "Hmph, I am a handsome Lycan! You just haven't truly seen what I can do yet." "Haven't seen what, Drex?" "Nothing! Come on, let’s go in. I'm starving," Drex replied, trotting ahead of her.