Forsaken Ao3 Novels & Stories

I whispered inside Carla. There had only ever been one white wolf in werewolf history. Carla. The realization hit me like a blow. “Carla,” I breathed. “Are you the legendary healer?” “Yes,” she answered through the mind link. “And you were never meant to be ordinary.” “Never meant to be ordinary?” I scoffed before I could stop myself. “Ordinary is far from it. I was forsaken.” “That is not true,” she said calmly. “The Goddess never forsakes her children. It is the evil and greed of wolves that makes it seem so.”

“You think he wrote something else about the Forsaken?” “He knew more than he let on,” Nicola replied. “I just need to find it.” Finally, she came upon a passage that caught her attention. The page was heavily annotated, the handwriting sharper and more hurried than usual. “The creation of Forsaken is not random - it’s deliberate. A corrupted energy source fuels their transformation, but it requires a willing participant to guide the process. Look for the signs of manipulation, the whispers of betrayal among your own.” Nicola’s heart skipped a beat. “A willing participant…”

I approached the pedestal, heart racing, while Damien stood a few paces behind me, his expression unreadable. I hesitated, then reached out and opened the tome. The pages were filled with intricate symbols, archaic text, and sketches of creatures that defied explanation. As I skimmed the pages, I began to piece together a narrative of balance and chaos—a tale of an order that had sought to harness the raw forces of creation and destruction. The text spoke of a “Chosen Vessel,” a being who would carry the mark of the Forsaken and become a conduit for ancient power. It described a ritual of transformation, a dangerous process that could either elevate a mortal to near-divine status or condemn

"I am the Cursemaker. I am the one who weaves pain into purpose, who transforms suffering into strength." Behind him, doorways spun in the air like portals made of crystallized anguish moments caught in frozen loops that played endlessly: Alexander as a baby screaming in his crib while no one came to comfort him; Seraphina clawing at her own skin, whispering secrets to shadows that whispered back; Kai Jr. dissolving into ink, his laughter fading into silence. "What is this place?" I asked, though part of me already knew the answer. "The Realm of the Forsaken. Where broken oaths are paid in flesh, where abandoned souls learn the true meaning of eternity. Where guardian spirits who failed in t

"They live among us Walk-in our dreams And see right through Our deepest desires They hear our thoughts. And prey on our fears Their soft voices Echo in our minds with promises of forever Darkness falls They heed the call of thirst The night belongs to them Eyes burn red with hunger It's our blood they crave and it's our bloodline They wish to enslave When the birth of a new day Peaks over the horizon And our shadows rise to meet them They retreat to their sanctums And seek solace in dark places In the sun, we find comfort In the light, they disappear They are The Forsaken..." Cadence said the words out loud over and over, trying to make sense of them. After a while, though, she stopped tryi

I barely recognized the she-wolf in the mirror—strapless gown, smoky eyes, lips painted in a shade I had never dared wear. For years, I had molded myself into what Caleb liked. Every female he kept close was delicate, soft, untouchable. None fit the image better than Serena, the Omega who bore his pup. But tonight, I walked into the private lounge of the pack’s most exclusive club without a single guard daring to stop me. Halfway through the night, the door slammed open. A group of Alphas stalked in, dominance thick in the air. Last through the door—face dark as a storm—was Caleb.

We would repeat the narrative until it felt like truth, real truth Ivy the cursed. Ivy the forsaken. The omega who returns and brings death and trouble Numbers would grow Doubt would spread. And when the time came - when we were no longer five, but fifteen… twenty… more ,-- Even red eyes would not be enough to stop us. If I cannot have the Alphas -- No one will. And this pack will remember who truly belongs.....

Something that even Astrael was afraid of. My heart skipped a beat. Damon tensed. "What are you discussing?" Her dark shape wavered as she took a step forward. "There is life in the Forgotten Realm. It contains something old. Even the gods were unable to control this force. A lump formed in my throat. "What do you mean?" She lowered her voice. "A force never intended to awaken." Damon's face became stern. Why are we here, then? The portal brought us, but why?

One simple, yet stupid, annoying rule: no touching. ​She'd made it abundantly clear from the moment we met that skin-to-skin contact was off-limits. And I, Lucian Hawthorne, went and threw that out of the fucking window the moment she looked at me as if I was worth even a speck of her kindness. I wasn't. ​And to top it all off, I got hard. ​Got fucking hard for a human of all things. Feeling her soft-as-silk skin brush mine, even for that all too short moment, made me harder than ever before.

"Damon, I love you." He pulls away like my touch burns. My heart splinters. "Duty surpasses love, Freya." My world stops. Watching him walk away, I sob alone in the garden, surrounded by the roses that suddenly seem to mock me with their perfect blooms. “MoonGoddes please send me my wolf” I mutter the silent prayer to myself. ******** Now the compound brims with guests here to witness their next Alpha's union. Lanterns cast a warm glow over the gathering, the scent of ceremonial herbs burning in copper bowls mixing with the evening air.