Lord Of Hollows Novels & Stories

"I won't let them harm us." Aunt Cleo's voice sliced through the air like a warning bell, her words laced with urgency and gravity. "Aqua, you need to grasp the true threat of the coven. They're not just ordinary casters. Each possesses unique abilities, ranging from unnaturally swift regeneration and inhuman strength to the sinister power to manipulate creatures and even people, turning them into spies. Some even boast of an unnerving form of immortality, extending their lives far beyond the natural order. And worst of all, they have the terrifying capability to absorb the powers of other casters."

“I can’t undo what I’ve done. But maybe… I can stop it from going further.” Behind them, the trees stirred. A voice—deep and twisted—shook the air. “I gave you power, Nyra. And this is how you repay me?” From the shadows beyond the lake, a figure stepped forth. The Hollow King. Twisted by corruption, his body crackled with red flame and void magic. Eyes like twin stars gone black fixed on them. “You were my weapon,” he snarled. “My final shard of vengeance.” Nyra stood, facing him. “No. I was never yours.”

The witch stepped out. And behind her— Bones of starlight. Eyes like dying suns. The Hollow King had awakened. And he was looking at Lillieth. Not hungry. Not furious. Claiming. “Bride,” he whispered. Draven growled—a sound that could crack the world. Lillieth’s wolf rose inside her chest, claws dug in, voice clear: Then we decide who devours whom.

Kael didn't look pleased, but he nodded. Moments later we were climbing the northern battlements. The storm hit us immediately, freezing wind and blinding snow, and the fortress stretched below with thousands of wolves preparing for battle. Archers lined the walls, warriors gathered in the courtyard, the entire pack stood ready. Then I saw them. My breath caught. The Hollow Kings. Five figures stood beyond the gates, only five, and somehow that was worse, far worse. They wore black armor that seemed forged from darkness itself, silver crowns resting upon their heads, their faces appearing almost human, almost. Their eyes glowed with pale moonlight, ancient, merciless, immortal.

“Well, it’s no wonder he didn’t bother trying to help with that ridiculous undertaking. Of course I don’t know. Why would Larkin even know? He’s not a demon.” “Yeah, but… the Reapers use them, too. There’s one in Reaper’s Hollow, and Thanatos and his horde of monsters have been using it to go back and forth, talking to Azrael and the other demon guys.” She knew she sounded ridiculous, or at the very least, uninformed. All of this was just too much.

Entering the study and seeing familiar faces,Vador smiled. "The lord," They all bowed except Jadis.He responded by nodding. "And why is someone still seated looking annoyed?" Vador asked. Standing up forceful"My lord," she said. "Why are you all here?" "Lady Jadis informed us that a human vampire named Ava is living here," Lord jack replied. Lord over the southern empire and also lady Mary's father,he wanted Vador to marry his daughter but wasn't forceful about it. "That is so against the law dark lord," Lord Matthew replied. He's the human lord in charge of the western empire.

"Secure the perimeter. Double the patrols. And I want every scout we have to push further into the Deadlands. If the Dreadlord is moving across the territories like a plague, he’s leaving a trail. I want to know where he’s headed next." Osen groaned as the doctors began stitching his jagged wounds. "It’s useless," he whispered. "You don't understand what he is. They aren't just wolves, Lucen. They are... hollowed out. They’ve been fed on void energy. They don't tire, they don't bleed, and they don't feel pain. My warriors didn't stand a chance because they were fighting shadows that could snap spines."

Lillia voiced out firmly, and this time, Anubis met her gaze. “You were blocked by Azazel, the gatekeeper of The Hollow because you were alive. The Hollow is the realm of the dead. It is home to all things vile and evil, and if they smell you, they will latch onto you and will not stop until you are dead.” Anubis lifted the bowl and handed it to Lillia again. “Drink…” she repeated coldly. “…if you want to save your friend.” Lillia swallowed. Slowly, her fingers stretched and grabbed the bowl from Anubis but she did not bring it to her mouth.

They weren’t vassals of broken thrones. They were survivors of a legacy long cursed. And now, they would fight for more than vengeance. Kalen stood beside Troy, both bloodied but unbowed. “If we die, we die on our feet.” Troy smirked, the old fire returning. “And if we live, we start again—no lies. No thrones built on bones.” Another monstrous howl echoed through the trees—closer now. The Hollowborn had arrived. They were wolves who were cursed and acted more or less like vampires, feeding on blood and being insatiable. They were also very powerful beasts and their leader was feared in the whole werewolf kingdom.

“What did it do to me?” His gaze lifted slowly to meet hers. “It didn’t do anything yet.” “Yet?” she snapped. “You crossed its boundary in intent,” he said evenly. “The Hollow’s magic is old, older than packs, older than Lycans. When it marks someone, it… waits. Watches. And then it sends pieces of itself after them.” Her fists curled. “You mean those faceless things?” “No,” Ragnar said, his voice low. “Those were only sentries. When the Hollow truly reaches for you, it won’t send something you can’t kill.