Romans & histoires Loki Artwork

Lydia’s window was half open, letting in the scent of moss, pine, and something else—faint traces of wolf and Lycan mingled in the air, ancient and pulsing with quiet power. As the car turned a gentle bend, the town emerged like a secret tucked into the heart of the woods. Small homes with wooden walls and wide porches dotted the hillside, some with lines of drying laundry flapping in the breeze. Smoke curled from chimneys, and children ran barefoot through the grass, their laughter echoing across the road. The heart of the pack was both wild and domestic, free yet deeply bound. The forest eventually gave way to a massive iron gate etched with runes, guarded by two warriors in uniform. The m

Nora asks startled "Lovergirl! It is only sweet at the beginning, you better shine your eyes and don't get swept away by the flood" she smirks her tongue irritably at Nora who mocks her in return "Beef this much? Better go and text Richard, Tito, Dino, or what is that your albino dude's name?" Tade snaps quickly "He is a white Liberian, not an albino! Get the difference"

Him asking for assistance made Czar eye him, "Are you planning to sacrifice me to the gods? Look, our master may be alright with your abilities but I don't see you as a Beta, you're a witch in my opinion and a witch must never be trusted." He spits. Loki gives him a glare but doesn't say anything, his spirit is dampened a bit but he hides his pain very well. He leaves Czar to himself and goes to figure out how he can get the rose tree that was buried inside Arcadia.

Loki's P.O.V. The skyline of Chicago loomed in the distance, its jagged edges punctuated by the faint glow of the setting sun. Loki sat in the back seat of his sleek black car, gazing out at the city with a mix of disdain and anticipation. Chicago was a place of power plays, betrayals, and whispered schemes a playground for someone like him. Donavan and Aibek were handling their respective tasks, ensuring the smooth flow of weapons and drugs through the veins of the underworld. Those commodities had always been in demand, but demand brought jealousy, and jealousy often festered into defiance. Fin was the latest example.

Quintina could not believe that they were on the same team. Loki was dressed in a grey robe. A slight grin crept up on his somewhat handsome face as he said, “How do you do, Ms. Quintina?” Demetrius smirked. “This elixir is now ours. Do you have any objections?”

Loki The shrine breathes. Not literally, of course. Not with lungs or lips, but with old, pulsing magic and coiled silence. I stand at its edge and inhale the scent of dust and ash, of time knotted and fraying, of truths so old they’ve forgotten their own names. It suits me. The Weavers built this place long before the wolves howled or the gods dared call themselves divine. Their threads still linger here, etched into the stones, trembling with half-sung hymns and dangerous longing. They don’t speak to most. But I’m not most.

However, she pauses and looks at Gemini, saying, "There's more. Consider the force in opposition. Gemini looks across at the other side of the mural, her eyes enlarging at the images of shadows. Overlooking the battlefield are shadowy entities who blend in with the darkness they control, their forms contorting and writhing. But in the middle of it all is a figure that gives Gemini the chills. She says, her voice hardly audible, "It's him." "Loki." It's obvious how similar they are. The old carvings here represent Loki, the man they have been fighting, the one who has controlled and tormented them from the shadows. His image is colossal, a towering entity encircled by hate and evil magic.

I shake my head no, “Actually, I feel a little tired. I think I’ll take a nap.” He kisses my head and says, “As you wish, beloved. I’ll see you soon.” “See you soon.” I respond as I get up and head towards our bedroom. As I lay on my bed, I ask Kodi, “Kodi, how did we get that image? We’ve seen nothing before.” It takes a moment for her to respond to me, but she says, “Loki sent us the image.” “He can do that?” She sighs, “I guess so.”

Lorraine's painting of a mural of a pregnant woman was ethereal. It infused the natural concept of pregnancy and the birth of a child with the growth of a crsytalized stream with rainbow locs, using the roots of a tree as the womb and a woman painting in a hue of leaves and a tree. DeAngelo had never seen art like this before. He had to admit, he underestimated her and the more he stared at the painting, the more he saw how talented she was and suddenly his desire to paint with the genius behind that work grew.

When I reached the armory entrance, I froze. Lok was the one opening the armory door. He punched in a code he shouldn’t have known, and the heavy metal door slid open. The armed men rushed inside without hesitation. I watched as they grabbed artifacts—our sacred ones—and scooped energy bullets into their bags. It felt unreal. Everything hit me at once. Lok’s words. His presence here. His control over the door. And then it clicked. Lok wasn’t loyal. He wasn’t trying to protect the kingdom.