Lord Farquad Novels & Stories

“Tell Len, if he doesn’t bring that person back, he won't be able to return to the Quaid family forever!” Quentin flapped his sleeves in fury. The butler wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and nodded in response. “Yes, Old Master.” After that, he backed up and prepared to retreat. The intensity flowing from Quentin’s body was too scary, especially his battle-tested and murderous aura. It was absolutely daunting! “Wait a minute!” Quentin stood on top of the high hall with his hands behind his back. With his pair of ferocious eyes glaring, he coldly said, “Contact the Longford family of Riverdale.”

A very tall man, with an equally long beard and a thick voice barked out of nowhere. “Uhm… who are you?” I asked, squinting my eyes slowly as I saw the crest on his robe. “I am Kilton Jonathan.” He stated, and my eyes widened. “And what is the war commander of the Radical Faction doing in the royal stable?” I asked, steadying my heartbeat and wishing I didn't send Mikah and Mikael on a goose chase. “I think he has ulterior motives.” Liora muttered shakily and so softly that I almost didn't hear her.

So furcans and wolves cleared the field and stood to the side, waiting anxiously for the most epic battle in werewolf history. “Farrah, we’re twins,” Figaro began, and I cocked up my brow. “I know you better than anyone here, and this isn’t you. Come with me before Selene makes you pay for what you’ve done.” He lowered his weapon slightly, searching her face for any sign of the sister he knew. “You should be worried about yourself, brother. When Dymian wins this war, Selene will be the one begging for mercy.” Farrah raised her fan blade, curling her lips into a confident smile.

Behind him his marines fanned out along the quay in tight formation, rifles at rest but visibly loaded, a detail Dorian's eyes catalogued without any change in his expression. "Queen Elira. High Warlord Dorian." His voice had the flat authority of someone used to being obeyed rather than persuaded. "I'm Grand Admiral Valerius, Far-Western Imperial League. Our Senate's been watching your northern consolidation. With some interest." He came closer, boots clicking against the marble.

Elard said, bowing his head to leave. Brak! Several cups fell as King Arsen jumped from his throne and stood in front of Elard. "I always trust you, Elard. You, the descendant of the tiger shapeshifter, are a great war commander with extraordinary tactics. You're a master of strategy, and I don't doubt your ability. I'm sure you're like your ancestors," Raja Arsen said without hesitation. "My son is right, Elard. Just tell me your plan, this is an order!" Queen Mother Layla provoked.

He didn't look up from his slate, but his scent was calm—the storm had passed. “Morning to you both,” I replied, taking my seat. The second trial began in earnest. With our architecture finalized, we had a fortress of logic to build upon. We divided the runic sequences among the squad. Lucas assumed the mantle of Warlord, and I had to admit, his leadership was flawless. He commanded the squad with the same iron authority that made him the greatest combat captain in the Territories. Even Bob and Coal fell into line under his gaze.

Quillion Van Kirk, with his signature crimson cloak billowing behind him, turned the corner, nearly colliding with Elder Mauritius Carmichael. Elder Mauritius, clad in his dark ceremonial robes, his salt and pepper hair glinting in the light, steadied himself. His piercing gaze locked onto Quillion, the weight of decades reflected in his storm-gray eyes. "It’s time to end this, Quillion," he said, his voice as sharp and unyielding as the edge of a blade. “Time to face our old friend Marcus Fitz.” The name sent a heavy punch in his gut. Quillion’s jaw tightened, his pale blue eyes narrowing. His hand instinctively brushed against the hilt of his sword, the faint hum of latent power rippling t

DEARON It would have been unfortunate to kill the Prince of the kingdom you had just allied with, and yet my mind was currently filled with all kinds of murderous thoughts. Seth Calogero was Alpha Hagan Calogero's younger son and one of the four Generals in the Farindorian army. The worst possible combination of a noble and a warrior. In other words, he was an arrogant asshole who believed he could have anything he desired. Right now, his eyes were on Kaira.

He looked battered. “Were you in a fight?” I asked, still studying him. He looked different from the last time I saw him. But it has been a while so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Carlson, is Adriana’s immediate elder half-brother who is only a year older than her. He has been working with me to find their stupid piece of shit father. Between him and his elder brother, who is now their alpha since the father went MIA, I’ll say, he got the brains.

I couldn't blame him, though; no one could hear the car's soft-running engine unless they possessed power like mine. Being a Lycan, I not only had sharp eyesight that could see through thick darkness, but I could pick up any smell or hear anything, even if it was still miles away. "Doctor Kedeva is approaching; open the gate for him." I said it firmly, emphasizing the urgency in my voice. The guard hesitated for a moment before finally nodding and reaching for the gate controls. The car drew closer, and I sensed the increased thumps in my heart. I was happy that Sony could finally get a treat and mad at Kedeva at the same time. He knew how important he was at the pack and that he was suppose