Romans & histoires Garm Vs Fenrir

He slammed into a couple trees there toppling them over and he got up barring his teeth. “The blade wolf, this is where it starts.” Fenrir leapt at him and attacked, but Surt was no ordinary giant and at his current size matched him for strength easily. However Fenrir was a vicious monster and tore at him. If he wanted to do this his way, he was going to have to kill Surt.

The first wave of arrows cut through the mist before we even reached the fortress walls. They were swift and precise, some glowing faintly with dark magic, the kind that made my skin crawl. I dove to the side instinctively, rolling into the soft undergrowth. Fenrir was at my side in a heartbeat, his presence like a shield. His golden eyes glowed faintly, almost like twin flames, as he deflected an incoming arrow with a flick of his wrist and a ripple of protective magic.

The charred remains of the elves caught in the blast lay on the floor. Fenrir steps into the fight and quickly charges Auron while he is distracted after using so much magic. It's hard for mages to quickly reinforce themselves after using such strong offensive attacks. Fenrir pulls out his sword and uses reinforcement magic on it. Normally he would use his flame magic to increase his physical abilities as well, but he can't risk his cover being blown.

Instead, a dark chuckle slipped past his lips, taunting me. “Liar!” He roared, slamming me into the wall once again. I was blinded by the pain, the walls cracking against his pure strength. Blood trickled from my temple and my chin, my vision hazy, but I could clearly see the gleam of his amber eyes. “The crest of Fenrir is forged from the first flame. It can’t be destroyed by ordinary fire, not even a dragon’s breath can dent it.” He continued, raising me high above the ground.

But he still looks meek against Fenrir. Fenrir was twice his size. A giant wolf, perhaps passing for a Lycan, the largest but long-extinct werewolf race. Fenrir’s wolf was skinnier but was evidently muscled and agile. He was a midnight black wolf, who had rich fur, and his dark eyes were more slanted, like that of a fox’s—unlike Flavian’s round, doe-like eyes. They were the perfect polar opposites. Their stark contrast, as much as I hate to admit it, is a fascinating thing to witness.

She says something in a low voice and his wolf purrs; It fucking purrs. The rage takes over and I shift, launching myself at him just as Gavins wolf leaps onto his back while the rogue is distracted looking at Enyo as she shifts into her silver wolf. It happens so fast I almost feel dizzy as her little silver wolf dodges and ducks to avoid me.

Maybe she was using Kayah to ignite war on us and rogues? The history of our bloodline was that of the Goddess' disappointment. My father had told me when I was young that our bloodline was used to be the Goddess primary force and not the royal family. Over the centuries, the war between Pack wolves and Rogues raged on, destroying everything in the forest. It was a never ending war between two daities who wanted to establish power. Rogues were an advantage when it comes to brute force. Fenrir was the Gods who famously known for power who was able to kill Odin, a chief God. Despite that, Fenrir was a reasonable God. He never declare war unless provoked unlike Lunar. She was known to be proud,

His body didn’t move though. Dear God, he has canines. She could see the sharper teeth at close range. Like a dog’s or maybe a vampire’s. She guessed it had probably been some kind of canine breed. It could account for the terrifying growl that erupted from the back of his throat that eerily resembled a vicious dog. She hesitated, afraid he’d snap at her with those sharp teeth if she got too close. “Easy,” she urged again. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Victor’s fists clenched as he approached the central office, where their leader, a cunning man named Ivan, was waiting. Ivan smirked as Victor entered. “Ah, the mighty Victor. Finally, you’ve come out to play.” Victor didn’t waste time with words. In a flash, he lunged at Ivan, his movements fueled by rage and fierce. The room erupted into chaos as Victor’s team engaged Ivan’s men. The fight was brutal but swift, with Victor emerging victorious. He pinned Ivan to the ground, his voice a deadly whisper. “This ends now. You will never come near my family again.”

From somewhere, a humongous copper wolf barreled into me, saving me from Argos’s fiery touch. I knew who it was. He was Freyr, my mate! “Felixe!” I whispered with relief. However, as we slid further down, my relief was soon replaced with panic. His back caught fire when it came in contact with Argos, but he didn’t care, cocooning me in his chest as he slid out of the way. The friction with the hard ground doused the fire. He winced as his burned back skidded across the rough terrain.