How Old Is Von Lycaon Novels & Stories

He chuckled, "If you judge by Lycan's aging I am still quite young." "How old are you?" I asked, still surprised after hearing his statement. "Old enough," His lips curved into a smirk. "How much?" "Close to 700 years old," He spoke leaving my eyes to nearly pop out of their sockets. "W-what?" I stuttered. He supposedly liked my reaction and he smiled leaning in and kissing my cheeks, "You are precious." "You are lying, you don't even have wrinkles!" I exclaimed and it made it laugh. "Sweetheart, Lycans don't get wrinkles till they reach 1500 years."

“Not really. He’s pretty mysterious. I was scared of him for a long time if I’m being honest. I still am a bit. I can’t decide if he’s protective about people close to him because he cares about them or because it’s easier to keep us alive than to replace us and have to start over fresh, ya know?” “Yeah, I guess.” “I know he’s well-respected among vampires. Because of his age. You do know how old he is, right?” I nod. “He told me. Sixteen hundred years. Give or take, I’m assuming.” “Give. Dom told me Lucas is like sixteen hundred and thirty years old or something crazy like that. I can’t even imagine.” “And what about Eliza?”

Her hair fell in soft waves, and her hand rested lovingly on her husband’s arm. Between them stood Lucian—tall, noble in bearing, with a piercing gaze. The young vampire had grown handsome and strong. He had his father’s sharp features and his mother’s eyes. At an apparent twenty-eight years of age, he was already respected by many clans, yet carried that restless unease typical of one who bears blood far too ancient for such a young soul. "Are you sure about this, Lucian?" Vlad asked, his voice low and controlled. Lucian looked out over the snowy valley, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Ah! You're right! He turned into a wolf.” Lyall closed his eyes, sighed, and continued walking. “Is it because of that girl?” Cedric's words successfully made Lyall stop in his tracks and turn around. Cedric laughed. “Wow, Lyall's starting to get interested in the opposite sex. I'm sure if Lycaon found out, he'd be proud of you.” He covered his mouth with his hand, pretending to be shocked. “Ah... I forgot. Lycaon is dead.” He looked up at the sky. “Sorry, Lycaon. You can’t see it. You’re dead.”

This resulted in the old generation still not being fond of werewolves and younger vampires — younger ones being progressive vampires under the age of a hundred years. I suspected Leikos was one of the older ones.

I like people to respect me and fear me, but I also like the members of my pack to actually like me. Leon POV I am only 13 but my body is bigger than most 13-year-olds. I can fight and run as well as a grown wolf. I think I got all the strong traits from my father. At the training camp, they thought I was a legitimate heir from the throne, but I am not, even if I was James would be the Alpha as he is the older. After the football game finishes, I decide to go for a swim, I walk towards the lake in the middle of the forest. As I get there I see my friend Alice there. I smile walking closer to her.

Ayden looked at her seriously and said in a sharp voice: I mean the kingdom of werewolves, and rather, the Lycans. She looked at him to find any sign indicating that he was joking, but he found his attitude very serious, and she thought inside her that he was crazy, so she asked, looking at him, trying to take him as much as his mind: What does the Lycan mean? Are they also delusional like werewolves?

Pushing back against the Lycans, I sprinted towards her, a streak of fur and determination. But the Outstanding Lycan, undeterred by my advancement, intercepted me with blinding speed. His crimson eyes bore into mine, a chilling calmness settling upon his face. "You're too late, Levi," he sneered. "By the time you reach her, she'll be nothing but a memory." A surge of desperation coursed through me, lending strength to my limbs. With a primal roar, I launched myself at the Outstanding Lycan, our bodies colliding in a furious clash. Claws met claws, teeth clashed against teeth as we fought for dominance.

Each of them carried weapons, not only swords, but also pistols, archers, and a stone flail that had spiked tips. A Lycan named Gora—is the youngest, around 17 years old, but look at his strength when he swings stone punches at the enemy, so beautiful and charming. Cia who was peeking from the window, couldn't help but feel normal. That's pretty good for a kid his age.

I inquired, furrowing my brow curiously. "Seriously Light, is that what you could think of at such a crucial moment... Anyway, we call her grandma because she's older than most of us_ she is fifty years old," Mahira stated and a gasp escaped my lips. How can she be fifty years old? She looks so young almost like a teenager. As if reading my thoughts, Mahira explained. "Light, werewolves tend to have a very long life, especially lycan ones like Alpha Alister, they are immortal."