House Velaryon Words Novels & Stories

A vetala has two drives, a physical one and a psychological one, much like we living humans have both physical needs and psychological ones. Physically, a vetala seeks the physical pleasure of drinking human blood. That’s the reason it’s analogized so much as the Hindu version of what in the West is called a vampire. Psychologically, it wants to test us, us humans, to test us in moral and ethical dilemmas, to test our survival instincts, to test our intelligence levels, etc. It has a sick and sadistic curiosity about us. So, it wants to consume our blood, but, like a cat, it wants to play with its food first.

“That’s new.” A soft surge of heat spread through her awareness.Her presence grows sharper in your mind with each passing day. The name shaped itself in the hush: Vaelrion. Relief washed through her like sunlight breaking a winter dawn. “Yes,” she whispered. “But she’s not… talking.” The silence stretched, then his voice curled through her mind like smoke: The wolf in you has been patient for centuries.

The visitor’s hair changes hue with each heartbeat: black as crow’s wings, silver as dawn, gold as ripe wheat. She looks down at Thalia with a smile that is both tender and terrifying. “My daughter,” she intones, voice resonant as distant thunder and soft as rain on leaves. The wolves bristle, ears pressed back, their instincts warring with awe. Even Black, heart pounding in his furred chest, feels the urge to bow—respect and fear tangled tight.

Because Rhydian only froze when something in front of him didn’t belong to the present. The figure of House Virel tilted its head again. “I remember this place,” it said softly. Its voice was improving. Not faster. Not clearer. Just… more accurate. Like it was tuning itself to reality. Kael tightened his grip on his blade. “You’re a breach construct,” Kael said. “A remnant echo. Nothing more.” The figure looked at him. Then smiled again—this time without delay. “That’s what they called us,” it said. “Before they ran out of names.”

“What the hell is going on, Damon?” But the Alpha’s words tapered off as his eyes flicked toward me once more. His gaze narrowed. His features sharpened. Then recognition struck. “You,” he said, spitting the word like poison. His hand shot out to point directly at me, as if identifying a long-forgotten threat. Damon’s body trembled with fury. His growl deepened into something guttural and fierce, a sound that filled every inch of the air between them. “Her name is Velara,” he snapped, his voice edged with warning steel. “And if you ever speak to her like that again, I won’t let it go.”

“You never knew how to choose your friends, banished one. "Enough," he snapped, shrugging his shoulders. Vela and Mitya ran out after them, taking positions on the sides. “Stay with the guys on the territory,” commanded Ar Vitaly. Hello, Velarin. You are beautiful as always. I missed you.” A cheeky smile crossed the enemy’s face. The werewolf's posture was relaxed, not a hint of fear or excitement. “Your puppy has grown and turned into a real wolf,” he turned his head to Mithir, to which he answered with a dull growl. “The same face as your deceased Vic. Isn't it sickening to look at a puppy every day, remembering your mate?

Ginny who was holding her mystical sword was about to take the sword out of its scabbard, but Damien held her back and chose to talk to Saveroth first. "What is it?" Saveroth, who usually smiled sarcastically, now had a very serious expression on his face. And one word that came out of his mouth, made Ginny's eyes widen perfectly. "Valkyrie." Damien closed his eyes, "I see." The hundreds of thousands of troops that were within Damien's shadow were already screaming very loudly. Ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine ghouls roared as loudly as they could. The two giant knight golems thumped their own chests with the hilts of the giant swords they were holding. Sixteen top-level vam

Behind him, the other tributes stumbled forward on unsteady legs, their fear a living thing that seemed to feed the shadows dancing at the edge of vision. The whispered conversations continued in that archaic vampire dialect, but Caelum caught fragments. Words that sounded like "bloodline" and "awakening" and something that might have been "dangerous." "You understand the old tongue," Velis observed, though it wasn't really a question. "Some of it," Caelum admitted. "My tutors were... thorough." "Thorough enough to teach you about bloodlines?" Caelum's step faltered almost imperceptibly. "What about them?"

Mate is here. My eyes go wide, hearing her say that. I bolt out of the car and inhale leather and cardamom. It sends shivers through me. Euan is my mate. He’s mine. Coventina takes control and bolts through the door, barreling into Euan, making us topple to the floor. “Mate.”