Forsaken Comics Novels & Stories

K’ Kian was a corrupt, slippery fish who always cleaned up his trail even if he had to cover it up with the blood of others. Mr Tibe was a man — maybe an entity with how hard it was to lay eyes on him — who sold everything illegal, with roots of power embedded so deep in the state, his empire might still be standing after I’d take him down. But that's okay, if I have to cut down every fucking branch myself, then that's what I'll do. I'd already lost someone to that, and while I didn't have any more siblings, I had a mom. And she had friends that had siblings.

Even his grandfather Gregory, who liked me most, had patted my hand and said, “Quinn, are you short on money? I’ll give you more. You just need to learn how to be the future Luna of the Graysons.” And over time… I believed them. I stopped trying for anything else— and poured all of myself into loving Caleb. When I left the pack house, I took nothing. Not even the money Gregory had offered me. I rented a small one-bedroom apartment with what I’d secretly earned working part-time in college, hiding it from them all. Ethan must have seen the place— and that was why he made his offer. Joining the Blackwood Pack was an opportunity I had no reason to refuse.

I mumbled. He turned around and looked at her legs, touching them. Xavier did his best to control himself. "She was bit by a forsaken," Lucas announces, pointing to a mark on her thigh. I look at it and it was indeed a forsaken bite. Their bites are extremely venomous and can kill even adult wolves in a matter of minutes, even alphas. You can tell the difference between the bites in human form because the skin started to decay. My heart drops. Forsaken wounds were impossible to cure, even if you were an alpha or alpha heir. Only the Moon Goddess herself could save you if you had been bitten or scratched deep enough. "She probably won't last any longer than a few hours. Who is she?"

I had returned to the heart of Silverwood in a desperate bid to uncover anything that could explain Morrigan’s connection to the prophecy and her vendetta against me. The scroll’s brittle edges threatened to crumble under the pressure of my grip, but I forced myself to focus, to breathe, as I unrolled the fragile document. The language was archaic, the symbols twisted and foreign, but I recognized enough of the ancient dialect to decipher its meaning. What I read chilled me to the bone. The Blood of the Forsaken shall sow discord, and the Heart of Silverwood shall tremble. The Betrayer’s line shall rise in vengeance, and only the Sacrifice of the True Luna can break the cycle of death.

he said coldly before walking away. I stared at his back as he walked away from me before sniffling into the handkerchief and it had his scent on it. It was calming but it couldn't take away the hurt in my heart. I trudged home, tears streaming down my face. As a Forsaken, I was no stranger to heartache. Our kind was abandoned by the Moon goddess, left to suffer in silence and be mistreated. We forsaken were the least in the pack and often referred to as low grade. Forsakens were a breed of omegas that didn't go through heat, but I was probably the only exception, except that I had kept it a secret.

We went to a not secluded neighborhood where the store of the man Tristan wanted to interview was located. The entire area became like artsy grounds for talented people. Artists filled the empty walls along the streets with graffiti, attracting newcomers like us. It was not my first time there, so I just ignored the walls. I had a part-time job there before. Gavin wasn’t also looking and his attention was all on me, making me uncomfortable. He was confident about walking under the sun. Meanwhile, Tristan couldn’t help himself. He had took out his phone and took a picture of everything we passed by.

Those foggy memories were created after Lila left me to be captured by the Lycans, and as expected, they brought me back to Crimson Moon pack, and if I was right, I was somewhere underneath the mansion I had spent years making my home, tied up like a fucking criminal. But what crimes had I committed? From my perspective, the answer to that question would be, “None.” However, if seeking a man’s love is a crime, then I would be guilty as charged. If trying to ensure that the man I loved also loved me back was a criminal act, then fine! I would be a criminal. Or maybe my cries weren’t related to love or to the man I believed I loved. Perhaps it was about how I abandoned my people without lookin

Somewhere beside her, Estelle's breath shuddered, and Roger's hand rested briefly on her shoulder. ... Martin Fallow's empire collapsed faster than anyone expected. One week after that night in the club, Martin Fallow's name was plastered across every news outlet in the country - fraud, bribery, trafficking, assault. The list of charges seemed to stretch without end. His so-called friends vanished overnight, business partners severed ties, and the man who had once moved in the same rarefied circles as Victor's V Group now sat behind reinforced glass, awaiting a trial he had no hope of winning.