Lord Of Hollows Novels & Stories

“Kill the Luna,” Harlow says. The rifles rise. Draven moves before I breathe, slamming into me, taking us both to the dirt. Bullets rip the air where my head was. “Duskbane,” Harlow shouts. “Stand down or she dies.” Draven’s body covers mine, his claws in the earth, growling. “You agreed to terms,” he snarls. “Terms changed,” Harlow says. “New intel. She’s not just Luna, she’s the Hollow Queen. The witch’s heir. We don’t negotiate with blood magic.”

She could not fail. The Hollowborn surged again, more ferocious, with their leader, a massive figure wreathed in black flames emerged like a grotesque mockery of a wolf, eyes glowing silver, teeth elongated and jagged. Raven felt the Hollow Blade within her stir violently, its whispers turning sharp, insistent, demanding. She could taste the power, feel it gnawing at her very soul, as it promised total dominance, and annihilation.

I said, laughing disdainfully, “I will take revenge on you, tear you to pieces!” Rowan grinned, saying mockingly, “I look forward to your return, your majesty!” As soon as his words fell off his mouth, his arm swiftly and accurately pierced my chest, precisely digging out my heart. Blooms of blood appeared on the bed sheet, like some kind of cruel artwork. “Moon Goddess, please give me a chance to be reborn!” I silently pleaded, just before my heart was harvested. At this moment, the dazzling full moon suddenly emitted a blinding white light.

This was Sinners, where werewolves came to lose all inhibitions. "Fuck!" I cursed, my heart pounding loudly as I tasted real fear. A male's hand grabbed my waist and I flinched away. Someone cupped my ass and squeezed and I cried out in outrage. "Get the fuck away from me!" Suddenly, I felt a dark looming presence rise up behind me and all the eager werewolves froze. A huge jacket slid over my shoulders, smelling of leather and sandalwood and money. "You heard her." The dark, smokey voice said softly, daring any of the men to challenge him. To my surprise, they raised their hands and backed off hastily. That voice was so familiar... I spun around and gaped at the rude, handsome stranger.

Jill could no longer speak from the pain of Noah’s attacks. Her body bled through her hospital gown, the lower half of her body torn and raw. Only when a team of doctors and nurses rushed in did they finally manage to pull Noah away. “Don’t think just because Emma’s gone that you’ll take her place,” he growled, his voice cold as steel. “Let me tell you something, Jill—If Emma doesn’t return, I’ll make sure your miserable life stretches into decades of suffering.”

Morwen’s hands shook as she drew a new one in her own blood. Veyra chanted, voice trembling, offering her animus like a sacrifice. They placed fresh relics,black crystals, bone shards, and a lock of hair wrapped in silver thread into the center. They were trying to rebind the Hollow. To force it back under their control. I almost laughed. They didn’t understand. The Hollow wasn’t a tool. It was a consequence. And consequences don’t obey liars. I left them there, bleeding and begging in the dark, and returned to my dorm.

The land screamed. Magic exploded, spiraling upward in a column of blood and fire, wrapping the Vale, binding sky to earth. The Hollow shrieked, its body unraveling where the light touched it. But it clawed deeper, dragging memories, hungers, every wound the Vale had ever known. Wolves staggered under the weight of old wars. Witches collapsed, clutching their chests. Zara gasped, vision blurring as the Hollow pressed against her mind. You are nothing but betrayal and ash, it hissed. Your sisters left you. Your blood is poison. Let go.

The Hollow didn’t just erupt. It detonated. Lilith moved first, faster than I’d ever seen her, putting herself bodily between Garron and Nico, claws already lengthening from her fingertips. Two of Garron’s enforcers lunged to intercept her, and Caska’s voice cracked through the chaos like a whip, ancient and furious, invoking an old authority I didn’t fully understand but that froze every Draugmoor wolf in the chamber regardless. “No blood in the Hollow,” she said. “Not while judgment remains unfinished.”

“It was always you. But if I couldn’t have you, I’d become something greater.” “You became nothing.” Their blades clashed again, magic flaring on every strike. VI. The Hollow King’s Last Attempt Bound by the golden seals, the Hollow King reached out one last time — summoning creatures born of nightmare: hollow shells, distorted wraiths, fragments of souls he’d devoured. They poured into the chamber like a living flood. But Cassian, standing next to Elias, extended his tiny hand. “They’re scared, Uncle Elias.” Elias placed his palm over Cassian’s.

It was unimportant, but I kept reading until I found something interesting. "On the night of the blood moon, the Wraithborn will answer to the one chosen by its light," I muttered aloud. That doesn't make any sense, mainly because the wraithborn have no light; they are as dark as night. I'm sure a drunk witch probably cooked it up one night, and they thought it was one for the books. This isn't what I need right now. I need to forge weapons. I need an army. I was just about to shut the book when I noticed cramped red ink at the bottom of the page, "Watch out for the Hollowborn, for when she rises, every blade, veil, coven, and pack, will surely fall. She is the beginning of the end." "Hollow