Loki Ragnarok Novels & Stories

"My ancestor, the first black wolf we know of, was named Fenris. It's an alternative name to Fenrir, a premier character in the story of Ragnarok." I wrinkled my nose. "Isn't that the end of the world?" "Something like it." I leaned in closer, eager to hear more. "Tell me about it." David opened the book to the marked page and began to recount the story of Ragnarok. "I'm not terribly interested in the end," David explained. "Fenrir is the son of Loki and a monstrous wolf. His quick growth, large size, and massive power were a concern to the gods as they couldn't bind him."

… Berserking Rogue took that time and shot towards Odin, his claws decapitated the God and drained his power erasing him from all planes of existences along with freeing something that was lost to Rogue. Roarrr- Rogue roared to the heavens declaring his victory against the one of the ten, his eyes glowing a bluish color as his body was cloaked in a blinding light making him look like a star in the middle of the heavens… “He actually managed to kill the all father” “Is this the strength of the spawn of the God King Lokison?” “Yes.. But there’s something that I wanted to know Thorin.” “That is?” “What would you do with the power to rule the nine realms?”

That deity is Loki, the trickster God. Koren wasn’t just after power—he was trying to open that seal with one of my children and gain Loki's favor. And if he succeeded, he wouldn’t just be unstoppable… the world itself might never be safe again. My head was buzzing with too many thoughts to sleep. I needed to see my babies—to reassure myself that they were safe and close. The nursery was dim, lit only by the warm glow of a single enchanted lantern. The soft sound of lullaby magic filled the air. Triny and Zoria had been rotating night shifts, so I wasn’t surprised to find one of them moving quietly about.

Nine was their sacred number since it connected the nine realms that existed within Yggdrasil. “I choose Gungnir, the great spear of Odin, Angurvadal, the stream of anguish, Gram, who brought death to Fafnir, Freyr’s sword, to fight when I am weak, Dáinsleif, to inflict wounds that never heal, Lævateinn, so that my step will never falter, Skofnung, the supernatural blade, Hǫfuð, the great sword of Heimdall and lastly Mjolnir.” Malachi chose his nine gifts and the rest were returned to the vault. These gifts would be sent to his house in Seward and he knew Jessica would banish them to his study.

“Isn’t it too early?” Lizzy shook her head as she went to work creating a test to see if Chloe carried Tristan’s child. “I probably shouldn’t say this because it’s dangerous for you to bear a child, but, I’m hoping that your half human factor is enough to offset the Lyronia side of you because I’d really love a dragon in the family.”

My body and mind are present, but I can feel the spirit push into my consciousness and take control. “Jormungandr, brother?” The voice that came out of my mouth was not mine. I would assume it was Arcas, but the voice was female. Feeling the Amory’s power, I can feel the energy and it does not feel male like I would assume Arcas would feel like. Erik’s head tilts side to side like he is trying to place the voice. Going back to my history, Jormungandr and Fenrir are brothers, but they had a sister that married Arcas. Hel is the ruler of Niflheim, but everyone just calls it Hel after her. After Ragnarök, Loki, her father, was imprisoned, and she was tasked to keep him from getting out.

Rex replied, gritting his teeth. “The tentaculum?” “I didn’t win though.” “You killed the beast called Balrog. I remember Lizz speaking about that at great length.” “Hold up!” Skul said, standing up and raising his hand, both Kiri and Skul were both staring at him now, “YOU were the one who killed the named beast Balrog?” “Well yes, but I had help,” Rex said, starting to object. “You killed a beast that escaped me. Wow does that make me feel inadequate, I was told it left this realm to inhabit another, so I lost my chance,” Kiri sighed, her lips pushed into a thin line as her face went pensive.

Derick turned to me with a dark smirk, and I could see the ill intent in his eyes. “I don’t need you for that. I have my methods of discipline, and when I’m done with her, she wouldn’t dare to raise a finger against me,” Ragnar said, but it seemed he wasn’t convincing enough since Derick’s hand was still at the side of my face. “Know this, if you so much as touch her, this deal is off,” Ragnar threatened, and Derick retracted his hand the very next second.

I cannot yet see anything, but I sense the beasts approaching. Loki bows to Isla, when he stands back up, he looks like himself again as he looks up at Jörmungandr. “A little chaos from time to time is a good thing,” he smirks. “Until it leads to your own blood being spilled. Put him down before she attacks you.” “My daughter will not hurt me,” Jörmungandr states. “Your daughter may not, the other half of her may.”

Emotions had run wild between now and then; excitement, disbelief, discontent, rage, and now a thoughtful silence pervading the four walls like a thick blanket that lulls her back to the bay of sleep’s arms. Avian dips the feathered tip into the glass bottle and carefully lowers it onto the page where she had left, just beneath the grotesque sketch of an original Lycanthrope she had attempted whilst still in the throes of energy. “… Average of ten feet tall, five hundred pounds of muscle and fur that is impervious to the war instruments of man.” The high priest stands at the front left, his cheeks like emptied udders that tremble with each breath, “tapetum lucidum…” highly sensitised night v