Lancelot Fate Novels & Stories

Mouth agape, not believing what he just said, I shook my head. “No. No, I wouldn’t do that during recon. She must have been a witch and put a spell on me, or something. We need to find this female. It’s possible she is the cause of the missing victims.” “You're saying, she’s making these people just walk off with her, never to be seen, or heard from again, without even realizing it? Then how and why did you escape?” Making a valid point, Lynx questioned the likelihood of that possibility.

I shrug. “Fate knows what it's doing. I don't need to supervise it. If I were to try and interfere, my interference would have been accounted for in planning that person's fate. If I shot someone, I might miss and just hurt them and they might meet the person they are meant to meet at the hospital. Maybe they will be dying and then the person they were meant to meet would show up in time to try and save them, get attached, then lose them. Which by the way I have seen once and it was the most depressing thing. I know if they're fated, not how long they will last.” I try to explain. Bellamy is already prepared with his next question. “If fate happens no matter what, then why does it matter if

Or maybe she is trying to make Lancelot like me so I won't have to pretend to be his dead lover anymore? Lancelot chuckled. "Ophelia is very beautiful and kind, but I only like her as a friend. My bride is waiting for me outside this place. As soon as I'm out of here, I will go find her wherever she is and I will marry her like I promised. I don't care if she had aged, or if her physical traits are not the same as before. I will love her the same way."

I was more like a maid to them because they felt I was cursed until Lancelot came into my life, and then the Moon goddess blessed me with Freya, my wolf. Everyone accused me of Lancelot's death, even when they saw the bite marks on his neck which was obviously cauaed by several vampires' fang They claimed I killed him, pretended to be mute, wrote with terrible handwriting so they'd let me off the hook. It's been two days with Lancelot gone, and a day he's been six feet below the earth. He was buried yesterday. Covered in mud with a cemented head stone with the words 'Find a better place of rest, Lancelot Campbell O'Sullivan, 1995-2021'

After the event she planned to drink herself to stupor in her chambers and with her husband. Lancelot was seated on his throne, adorned in his royal robe and dressed elegantly, to please his Luna. Yet, as he sat in the seat, he wanted nothing more than to go over to Garrett and hold him by his throat until every life in him was lost. But, he couldn't do that just yet, a more unbearable punishment was waiting for him.

He said “Have you ever seen a dead body Rillon? A dead child?” Rillon looked at him and narrowed his eyes. Uther noted he at least had the sense to keep his no doubt witty reply to himself. James walked in, bowed and passed Uther a herbal remedy with he turned his nose up at but drank none the less. “It’s got worse.” He said to Jelric. “What has your leg or the attacks?” “Both.” Uther admitted taking another sip of the bitter drink. “Well we have some news that will cheer you up…” Rillon said “We have a Fate, here in the castle.”

Another cursed under his breath. Lancelot let them murmur for a moment before he spoke again. “Their deaths are to remain within this room. The humans must not panic. We will control the story.” An elderly Beta, one of the council, leaned forward. “Alpha Lancelot, about the humans’ deaths, if they were killed by rogues…” “They were not,” Lancelot interrupted sharply. “They died of illness. That is what their families will be told.” The finality in his tone was unyielding. His gaze flicked briefly to Raymond, not as a father, but as a leader measuring his successor’s reaction.

Divided into three states: Focused, Highly Focused, and Absolute Focus. 【Common Star Language Lv10】— You are now proficient in the common language of the Star Realm. ... Combat Power Level (Unit: Diel): 2–4 Status: Extremely Fatigued —————— Lancelot’s panel was undoubtedly the most pitiful of his three avatars. Starting as an ordinary person, with no talent, no bloodline, no background... and to top it off, having a father like Grove! Without the awakening of his memories, his life would almost certainly have been one of missed opportunities.

Layla studies her, eyes narrowing. “What is it?” I ask quietly. “Something’s off about her.” “I know,” Layla replies. “But we’ve got enough going on.” Caron clears her throat and leans over Drake, parting the collar of his shirt to expose the wound on his neck. The spot where the dart had struck is now dark blue, pulsing with each slow heartbeat. She carefully injects the potion into the same spot and looks up at me. “Okay, Lilly. Now you need to extract the power from him—bit by bit. Each time, push it completely out of your body. Every last trace. It’ll take time, but you’ll know you’re done when his color returns and the mark is gone.”

"Do you think you won't die? And when you do, I promise I will find you in hell." Lancelot snorted, "Yeah, that won't happen anytime soon." And how wrong he was, because just a month after achieving his ambition, Lancelot was killed in action, and his soul was sent to hell where Gresha was waiting for him.