Fanfiction Bones Novels & Stories

he explains. "I think I'll be fine," I say brushing it off. "Gargoyle bones are made of different material, you know." "What?" says Bennet surprised. "What do you mean?" "I don't remember the exact specifications, but I know that our bones happen to be much tougher than any other beings' bones. I think they're as hard as diamonds if I remember correctly." "Really?" asks Bennet. I smile. "Really," I say, reaching up and brushing a bit of hair of his forehead. Bennet smiles down at me.

Hungry. “Run,” Kade said. We ran. The forest blurred around us. Trees became walls. Roots became traps. And behind us, the cursed wolf gained ground. It was fast. Faster than any wolf I had ever seen. We broke through into a clearing. And stopped. The clearing was full of bones. Thousands of them. All arranged in circles. In patterns. In symbols that pulsed with dark magic. The Bone Lands. At the centre stood a hut. Small. Crooked. Wrong.

She was not dead. When I saw her crimson eyes, I smelled a familiar scent on her. The scent of blood. My blood. “Elena, thank you. For exchanging your blood with mine. Your blood turned me into a vampire.” Sylvia leaned against Kael’s chest, smiling sweetly. I recalled all the years after our marriage. Every time I lay down in my coffin to sleep, my body always felt unbearably heavy. The cold disgust in Kael’s eyes confirmed my suspicion.

I looked at Aaronsafe for now but darkness was hungry. Lucian touched the Bone King’s crown. "This ends now." The split flared brighterfissures in the realm called. From the gap appeared footsteps not human. A figure soaked in bone and midnight. The Bone King gasped as reality twisted. He fell to his knees. Whispered trembling: “My daughter…” "Papa..." came from the void as a voice. And there, like an image in glass and a horror come true, stood my real sister. She wasn't born of bones, but from a shrine, where flame and shadow met.

Chris POV I never thought that shit would get this far and id be sitting here having this convercation with a ghost “What do you want me to say V that I fucking raped you and left you for dead, That I killed the woman I was actually falling in love with because I was afraid she would be just like you” I stand taking a few steps closer to her in a utral fashion so I don't give anything away as to howi may feel or what I plan on doing.

Claire and Danny stood on the outside of the iron bars that confined a seven- year- old girl and stared at the child with probing eyes. “Yes, she is a soul possessor. A non-human being that coexists with the vampires." Claire then opened the prison door and stepped inside followed by her father. “I read about their species in an ancient book I found some time ago.” "Is it safe for us to be here?" Danny looked at the girl who was still sitting in a huddled position in the corner of the room. Even though the little girl looked harmless, since she was an astral being, of course they had to be more vigilant.

Rowan threaded his fingers through mine. “Then we do not go back,” he said, “until we are the kind of monsters they should be afraid of.” I leaned my head on his shoulder as the bonds inside my chest hummed. One to the goddess. One to my Silver Wolf. ....and one far away and growing closer with every heartbeat. __________________________ Fenric the Bone Wolf POV Far Eastern Wastes Darkness had been my only companion for so long that time itself had lost meaning. My tomb was carved into ancient ice, deep beneath the frozen cliffs. I had lain there unmoving, a massive white wolf curled in eternal sleep, my bone horns tucked along my skull, frost spiderwebbed across my fur.

The trees bled rust-coloured sap from their bark, dripping in slow trails that stained the roots like old wounds. Their branches were thin, high, trembling— And from those skeletal arms hung birds. Dozens. Frozen mid-flight, wings spread, beaks open in silent screams. Suspended. Forgotten. Bones littered the ground where I stepped. Small ones. Child-sized. I didn’t look too long. Because in the centre of the hollow was something worse. An altar. Not wood. Not stone. Fused bones—twisted spines, ribcages, shattered femurs—melted together by a dark hand.

Or fear. I stood then. “No,” I said, my voice echoing farther than it should have. “This ends.” The path ahead of me shifted. The shadows drew back, revealing a road carved not of stone, but of bone. Human bone. Wolf bone. Some old, bleached white. Others dark and fresh, still carrying echoes of magic that made my stomach twist. I knew them. I felt them. These were not random remains. They were mine. My bones. Spines I had once lived in. Ribs that had shielded hearts that loved too fiercely. Skulls that had dreamed of peace and died screaming instead. My steps slowed as the realization hollowed my chest.

She could taste it in the air, feel it settling into her bones like the cold that never quite left this place. Bjorn's pyre had been the largest. The Elder had sung the old songs over him, the ancient words rising into the night sky, carrying his spirit to whatever waited beyond. The pack had howled until their voices cracked and the mountains echoed back their grief. And then they had scattered, retreating to their tents, to their families, to the small comforts of survival. Lyra had stayed.