How Did Alaric Become A Vampire Novels & Stories

I could finally clear my thoughts of every revenge and hatred I had bottled in for a long while. Alaric was gone. He was killed during the attack. Darius gave him a chance to surrender and face the consequences of his actions but he had pronounced outrightly that he wouldn't be taken alive. The final blow was eventually delivered by Darius himself. A clean, brutal end for a man who never knew mercy. The council had declared the matter closed, and the werewolf world turned a new page.

she rasped, sinking to her knees. I froze, my stomach lurching. The ritual—it was pulling her blood too. But why? She wasn’t part of this. I staggered back, my hands shaking. Alaric roared, charging me again, and I swung wildly, my fist catching his jaw. He stumbled, and I turned to run, but my body seized, a burning tearing through my veins. The venom surged, unstoppable now, the ritual broken. Fur sprouted along my arms, my nails lengthening into claws, my vision sharpening to a predator’s edge. I was turning—fully, finally—and there was no going back.

I clenched my fist as they gripped the steering wheel; hearing about this was beginning to piss me off. “Did you know he actually turned a human into a vampire so he could use him as his little minion?” Without thinking, I slammed on the brakes and the car squealed to a stop. “What the hell did you say?” I asked, glaring at her. Her eyes were wide and alarmed; she visibly swallowed a lump in her throat. “He turned a human into a vampire so he could use him as his minion,” she said, her tone much softer. “He didn’t trust another rogue, so he made himself a follower.”

We were now sure that it was a man. I also wanted to know what Alina’s mother part was in all of this. What was she to gain by staying away from her mate and her pack. We also have already found a way of extracting the drug that is used to turn werewolves forsaken and I am sure by the time the antidote is ready, the oracle and his group will have come up with a way of taking the dark magic in them out and then, we will have found a way to fully heal them.

I gasped. His head dipped—and his fangs sank into my neck. Pain lanced through me, sharp and raw. My legs gave out. Warm blood rushed down my skin. My heart pounded in panic, but my body was crumbling—trembling—betraying me. Darkness swirled at the edge of my vision. And I knew, in that moment—I didn’t just meet a stranger. I’d awakened something ancient. And I wasn’t leaving this place unchanged.

Inside, painted in fine, faded detail, was a woman's portrait — silver-black hair, pale golden eyes, a face achingly, impossibly familiar despite the fact that I had never once seen it before in my life. My own face, or close enough to steal the breath directly from my lungs. "That is Queen Alara," Elowen said softly, "ruler of the Lunar Dominion, beloved by her people, and — if I am not mistaken, and I pray every day that I am not — your mother." "No." The word came out cracked, barely more than breath. "No, this isn't— this can't be real." "I understand this is difficult to hear." "Difficult?" A broken, disbelieving laugh escaped me. "You're telling me my entire life was a lie. That Selene

With a bitter taste that clung to Eren, he left the big door. Alaric stood in front of his bedroom balcony staring intently at the forest that enveloped his father's castle. The other hand holds the glass filled with blood that Derek had given him. His eyes were still red from the blood in the middle. Blood with different flavors on the one hand has a sweet taste but on the other hand has a bitter taste that is like intoxicating wine. I don't know which one made Alaric seem bewitched to drink it again and again, I don't know which. The feeling is so bewitching that the owner has two different identities. Whatever the taste of blood that tasted on his tongue he would find whoever the owner of

ALARIC By the time the sun started setting and night fell, we had torn apart half the forest surrounding the Packhouse and found nothing worth the effort. Warriors moved in tight formations through the surroundings, calling out every few minutes with updates that all amounted to the same thing. Nothing. No scent trail past the old tunnel entrance. No sign of a struggle beyond what we had already found inside the Packhouse itself. One of the vampires had the ability to turn people into puppets. He used that ability on all warriors and omegas in the Packhouse. He sent them to the garden, and then they took Elara.

Danrious took his hand away from my mouth. "Help," was the only thing I could say, but he just fixed his glasses and grasped my hand. "Don't worry, you won't end up like them," Sir Daryl assured. I'm unsure what he means, but I fear them now. He licked my wrist, then sank his fangs into it without warning. I winced at the agony but didn't have the strength to fight it. They're not humans; they're bloodthirsty vampires. A tear fell from my eye, and I gazed up, seeing the plain ceiling and closing my eyes.

Being close to Alaric made her presence a bit stronger, but she was far from fully recovered. “Yes, now,” Alaric insisted, standing up with a grin. Before I could protest further, he stepped back and shifted. The transformation was seamless, his human form melting away to reveal a massive, midnight-black wolf. He was huge, bigger than any alpha I had ever seen in my past life. His fur was glossy, catching the moonlight in a way that made him look almost otherworldly. His eyes, usually a piercing gray, were now a deep, fiery red with dark orbs that seemed to see straight into my soul.