Forsaken Comics Novels & Stories

"Or something like him." A chill slid down my spine. "There have been others before." I dragged my gaze from the drawing to her face. "Others?" My voice came out thinner than I wanted. "How many?" Mara didn't look away. "Enough that our ancestors knew to fear them." --- She turned the page slowly, as if giving me time to breathe. I didn't take it. "They are called the Forsaken," she read, her voice low but steady. "Wolves who rejected the Moon Goddess's gift… or were rejected by it."

“What is that smell?” “The graves of the Forsaken,” Felix said coldly. “If the living can’t keep Bruess under control, then the Dead do.” The Forsaken. I looked around and saw no headstones or markers that would indicate where these werewolves were buried. They were criminals, traitors, mentally ill, or simply unfortunate werewolves who were not given their last rites. I laughed nervously, “You don’t honestly believe that the Dead still exists here? That’s just a superstition from the old days.”

It was clear that she had stumbled upon something unusual, something that didn't appear in the usual texts. Roxy's voice was steady as she read aloud, "The Forsaken possess mastery over all four elements, wielding them with effortless ease. Their powers extend far beyond elemental control, though the full extent of their abilities remains shrouded in mystery. Some whisper that they can manipulate time itself and bend the human mind to their will. The Forsaken are not to be trusted, for beneath their promises of aid and allegiance lies a treacherous intent to betray. They eschew the clan structures of other supernatural beings, instead opting for a solitary existence that allows them to pursu

The warmth of the evening air turned cold as Serena stared at the symbol seared into the paper—a jagged moon bleeding black ink, surrounded by thorned runes. Her fingers clenched around it involuntarily. The Forsaken. Once thought annihilated, they were little more than whispers in the dark, monsters parents warned their children about. But Serena knew this wasn’t folklore. It was real. The mark pulsed with the kind of malevolent energy that couldn’t be faked.

Either the wolf dies slowly from the deterioration of the bond or they become Forsaken… Feral wolves who completely surrender themselves to their animal instincts until all traces of humanity disappear and they become violent, unstable and bloodthirsty. They were called The Forsaken because people believed they were abandoned first by their mates and then by the Moon Goddess herself. Honestly, becoming a mindless feral creature terrifies me far more than death ever could. I don’t want to lose myself like that not do I want to become a monster. Which leaves me with only one other outcome. Death. Death terrifies me but what other choice do I even have? The only way to stop the bond from rottin

returned from shadow-walks smelling of nothing absent, scrubbed from existence and only partially restored. I tore through the final shelf in the archive with desperate fingers, scrolls cascading to stone. My torch flickered, throwing wild shadows. Then I found it: ancient scrolls bound in flesh-string. The parchment crackled like dry leaves as I unfurled them, forgotten language spilling across the surface like dried blood. "Realm of the Forsaken," I whispered. A cursed dimension where guardian spirits who broke their oaths were cast, starved of light, sealed with sorrow. I hesitated briefly. What mother would not risk damnation to save her children?

"I know. And I deserved it. Every moment of hatred. Every curse you hurled at my memory. Every wound you inflicted on the world in my name." "No." Lilith's voice was fierce, desperate. "No, you did not. You made mistakes. We both did. Terrible mistakes. But we could have, we would have, if we had just had more time—" "Now." Morgana's grip tightened on both their hands. "I need you both to listen. I do not have much time, and there is something you must understand. The Forsaken, they are not just my enemies. They are not just ancient rivals. They are everyone's enemies. They serve something older than them. Something darker. Something that has been sleeping since before time began, since befo

Lilith had raised them. Not puppets, not whispers of memory—the Forsaken. Warriors betrayed by their own kin, murdered, their names erased from history. And now, they marched for her.

Daniel walked for hours around the city. He was determined to go anywhere other than back to the Bostonian. He had so many things running through his head. His father sends Wyatt to see if he can be saved and stop the war that both sides have been waiting for. Elizabeth and him having a son and he’s eleven, and his life's in the same danger as Elizabeths. Daniel just wanted to walk away from all of this. How he wished that it had been Wyatt that was Forsaken instead of him. He felt everything way too much to be cut out for this job. These twelve years of soul collecting. So many souls collected for a war that might never happen. So many people sacrificed for what.

] [Jensen's just a deadbeat who wasted six years of their lives. [True love wins!] I was not angry over the comments. Instead, I quietly passed along some damaging intel on Nicky's company to her biggest competitor. Nothing weighed heavier on a marriage than poverty. I hoped they could keep their love alive when she inevitably went bankrupt. After that, I looked at the 1.2 million dollars in my account and booked a plane ticket for a trip. Tara had been in the hospital since she was a little over a year old. Her biggest wish was to see the world once she got better.