Fantasy Men Names Novels & Stories

"I assume you're the one who pulled me out of the street and brought me up here—to the dirty floor?" "Not me, no, but I had some of my elves do it," Aradhon said. Bertram noticed he chose to ignore the floor comment. "I hope you don't mind, but I left that excuse of a man, Fat Boy, behind for the others to find. What a ridiculous name. Fat Boy. Why do these humans insist on calling themselves such ludicrous things? Wasn't that other boy called Tattoo? It makes no sense to me." He stared at the pool as he spoke, as if seriously debating his own question.

I ask him. “I know that he is Oscars son and Alpha of Blood Moon Pack and that you are his mate.” He tells me as I hand him the phone so he can just continue scrolling by himself. “That is correct.” I tell him as I contemplate whether or not to tell him my story. “What are their names?” He asks me. “Well the boys names are Baelor and Fealian and the girls name is Leslie.” I tell him and he smiles. “Strong and beautiful names and I apologise about asking for Orion, I didn't mean to pry.” He tells me.

Deliberately forgot, but that's hardly the point. I grind my pussy against his hardness as he swipes my hair to one side. He buries his face in my exposed neck and takes a long sniff. "You smell like a real-life wet dream." Real-life wet dream? I laugh at my vivid imagination. Tens of women at work drool over Rhys Redmond, but I must be the only one filling up pages with fantasies of things that will never happen. If this doesn’t get me checked into a mental facility, nothing will.

I looked at Lucian and said. Lucian nodded and said, "Let them come. I can feel Gianna is in trouble and we need to find those druids as soon as possible." The soldiers had brought us horses. One of the fishermen rode with Lucian and the other one rode with me. "What's your name?" I asked the one who rode with me. "My name is Mana. My brother is Mata. We don't have any last names, because when our ancestors were cast away from the mainland, we lost our last names," he said.

His hand rested over my stomach, tracing lazy circles. “I want to keep playing sometimes,” he murmured into my hair. “Keep the edge sharp. Keep the fantasy alive.” I smiled, sated and owned and stupidly happy. “Every anniversary,” I whispered. “And maybe… some random Tuesdays.” He laughed soft, warm, real. Then quieter: “And if we ever decide to add to the family… we’ll tell them the truth when they’re old enough. That their mother and father chose each other against the whole damn world. That the fantasy became real.”

—I asked, noticing he was just staring at me. —Now you understand why they couldn't grow up away from you. —Because you're a total disaster, with a passing interest, who couldn't live without me? —He laughed. —You couldn't have put it better. —This time I shrugged. —Do they have names? —I have two in mind —I gestured for him to continue—. Ragnar for the male... means lethal strength and primitive loyalty. You agree? —Very masculine, though quite fitting for their father's character —he just smiled. —And the other?

He’s sure the Seven Deadly Sins should exist here too, but whether it has another name, he didn’t know and currently didn’t care. The others started catching up with each other, talking about their activities after the training, how they’re doing, all that stuff. Jai took this chance to look at each of their faces and he remembered their names by single glance. There was Darrion, of course, and Oki, his windlet friend. And then there’s Ruhan and Raka, they looked exactly the same as before except that they’re currently wearing a formal clothing. He guessed those must be their school attire. Then there’s Bara, as big and as loud as ever. Mugen, the one who can do whips with his flame. Mac and

James wanted to verify whether Xayal created the so-called Ritual Rank. He was also curious to find out the white-robed man’s name. He asked, “May I ask for your name, sir? The man smiled and replied, “My real name is Xzavion Bentley. However, I usually go by Falcon Xoan in the cultivation world.” “Is Xayal the creator of the Ritual Rank?” “Yes, but not really,” said Xzavion. “What do you mean?” James was puzzled.

He was from the Asttland kingdom far away from here. The third man was named Zephyr, a spiritual, otherworldly seer with the ability to communicate with the gods as it was typical of his people from far in the south. The last on the scroll was Thorne of the sword. Thorne was a passionate, intense sorcerer with a talent of pyromancy. These were the four men I was expected to look out for. I have never met any of these men before my entire life, and I wondered what meeting them tonight would be. Would they agree to be with me because I'm a Queen or because they actually want to be with me?

The young lad just smirked; even spit at the foot of Avril. Sweat was flowing down from his face. The enraged Avril grabbed his copper-colored hair and asked again. “What is your freaking name?” “What is it in my name that you are so eager to know?” “So that we’ll know who you were before you become like this.” It was Anaztasia who answered. The man snorted, amusement danced in his eyes. “I am who I am, Miss Anaztasia Amanda Arryn.” Avril Archer Arke slapped the man so hard that Anaztasia thought his head would tumble on the ground.