Novel & Cerita Jormungander

The ultimate Alpha. The Alpha King. They think him god. He is respected like one. He is feared like one. They call him god. Because, he is a crossbreed between the two most powerful creatures. He has the strength of a mountain lion and the power of a werewolf. He can take the form of a mountain lion or a werewolf. Or a man. Why? Because, he is a werewolf AND a mountain lion. His name is Wolfariane Daminor Throne.

They had such an excellent bond based on their likes and dislikes. The real Monster had not yet finished, but had just started. She would awaken Luther's true monster. She would destroy him and his family. She would make Noelle's life an absolute hell. This is the second part of Monster. *********

The prospect of pushing beyond those boundaries was both tempting and terrifying. "What do you need me to do?" Trent's grin widened. "I need you to tap into your ancestral memories, farther and farther back. You'd done some of it already, so I figured we could start with the dragon ones first." I frowned, thinking back to my conversation with Lucy. “Jormangandr.” “What?” "The World Serpent that's supposed to kill and be killed by Thor, the son of Odin," I frowned. "How likely is it that the World Serpent is actually a dragon?"

Dan's weight on me was too much and I couldn’t break his grip on me. My legs were pinned by his legs hooked around me and my hands held above my head by his. His breath smelt sweet and unusual; it was sickening. He held his face close to mine when his phone rang in his pocket. He jumped off me and I started screaming. He ran out of the room slamming the door behind him, my screams were pointless. However, it was the first sign of hope. If I could somehow submit to him and get his phone from him, I might be able to reach out.

His voice was a low, deep rumble in the morning air. "I am," I said, my voice just as flat. "The black one," he said, patting the neck of the beast on his left, "is a high-strung, ill-tempered, murderous bitch. Her name is Hela. She will try to kill you." I just stared at him. "The one on the right," he said, patting the other, "is a high-strung, ill-tempered, murderous bastard. His name is Fenrir. He will kill you."

Even so, no one treated him like a man who had come in peace. Bjørn Mortensen was larger than he had looked from the battlements during the night fighting. Broad through the shoulders, dark-haired, with a short beard and a pale scar that cut through his left eyebrow and continued down onto his cheek. He moved like a soldier who had spent years learning how to keep his balance when the ground was covered in blood. When his eyes found Gunnar, there was no flinch. When they found me, something colder and more assessing settled into his expression.

Bethel frowned for a moment, “Well from a baby really, she would summon cakes from the kitchen and she would summon Lady Persephone’s son’s toys to play with. It was quite amusing really.” Helga’s eyes narrowed, “Seraphina, you are such a mystery.” She shook her head. “What do you mean?” Bethel questioned. “Well if we just consider the facts first, she is a Dragon Dhampir, a Dhampir with a familiar is rare enough yet, to have a Dragon familiar? I know I don’t need to tell you how rare that is,” Bethel nodded at Helga. “She also carries Alexandria’s Genesis, she has the markings for spirit, she-” Helga’s face paled as a thought came to mind.

-Do you know who Azael is? He looks at me with a terrified face. -Azael Grimm? The new? - I'm not quite sure it's called that, but I nod my head because there aren't many people named Azael in this country. So much less in high school. What's more, I think there is only one person in the world named like that and that is him. -What's the matter with him? - He's the one who bumped into us on the day of the dance, Jason- I say bluntly.

I said it before, he was the male version of Medusa. I swiveled on the balls of my feet, instantly meeting Gunnar's green-brown eyes. They were more brown with blotches of green swirling through the irises this morning and they were hooded with days worth of exhaustion. Thick stubble coated his jaw, framing the impeccable slice of it. His chocolate brown locks were snarled in every direction; tufts sticking out and begging for me to run my fingers through. I fisted my hands, quickly shaking the thought out of my head.

He had a short beard and his hair was tied back, it looked to only reach below his ears maybe. She looked over at Jormungand and he positioned himself. Thor raised the large hammer he had and was clearly going to do something. She watched as Jormungand shifted and shot forward at Thor. They collided and several bolts came down. Thor bellowed something, and there was also a roar. She darted for the opening, she turned around and nearly screamed. Jormungand was right behind her. She wasn’t expecting his serpent, but he shifted and grabbed her going into the opening.