Maggie Stiefvater The Wolves Of Mercy Falls นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I had done what I had to do. Or not? “Sienna!” Margaret yelled, approaching at a brisk pace. “Maggie.” I hugged her tightly. We had not seen each other for a long time more than we were used to. Maggie was the only widow in the whole pack since wolves usually die in pairs. She was the strongest werewolf in the world. Her hair began to fill with gray, her eyes, always kind and were the color of the forest. Green and captivating. “I was so worried about you, my child.” She took my face in her soft hands, analyzing me. She acted like a mother to me from day one.

VALENTINA BURNING MERCURY MOON PACK My heart thumped harshly in my chest as I tried my best to stay in the shadows while I crawled to safety. Screams and wails of the dying wolves pierced the air and sent constant chills running down my spine. ‘My father couldn’t have fallen…’

Fallen leaves and dust grazed my back as I rolled on the ground until my legs found some balance and I stood up. Mom ran towards us and her eyes turned white like the moon as she cast a spell on the wolves. It didn’t seem to affect them as they furiously looked at me while closing the distance between us. It didn’t work? “It's not working. It's because of my white magic.” Mom shouted. That made sense. Wolves of the Emerald Pack were also referred to as ‘Angelic wolves’ because their powers and principles were deeply rooted in nature. White magic also worked with the laws of nature, so they might have been immune to Mom’s spells.

A sandy hued wolf appears from nowhere and blocks her path, growling until she stumbles back. All across the valley, wolves find each other. The battle is over. In its place is a homecoming. But here, at the center, the thirteen witches stand alone. Their stolen army has come back to itself, and now, there is nowhere left to run. I stand at the forefront next to Marek, my chest heaving from the desperate surge of victory. The battle has long since shifted, and what once was chaos is now stillness in the dawn air. Wolves, full of their own rediscovered strength, watch with growling restraint. More warriors stand ready behind them, ready to pounce at the first sign of the witches’ resurgency—b

She had underestimated me. The shadows of the abandoned village stretched long under the moonlight, and I felt a pulse of possibility. I wasn’t just surviving anymore. I was shaping the battlefield. I was reclaiming my life, my power, my agency. And soon, everyone who thought they could control me would learn exactly what it meant to hunt a wolf who refused to be prey. This night was only the beginning. ---

Fagua I stumbled backwards as the wolves closed in. His words promised to deliver exactly what he’d said. I didn't know what he'd do to me, but I didn't like the gleam in his eyes or the wolves around me. "How come you've never turned, girl? Got too much of your damn Ma in you." He sneered. "All you need is a few bites to get the change fever going. Handy it's a full moon coming up soon." I'd never been bitten by a wolf my entire life. "That won't work. If I haven't become a wolf now, I won't ever."

Its amber eyes glimmered with feral cunning, its body tense, ready to strike. The younger wolves whimpered nervously, some retreating instinctively, others standing stiffly, ready to defend. Selene’s silver threads sprang into motion, weaving subtle protective barriers around the pups. She guided the rogue’s movements, deflecting it just enough to prevent harm without overtly controlling it. Only she could sense the raw, unpredictable energy radiating from the intruder.

Morrigan hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully. “Forbidden wolves,” she said quietly. Lyra’s breath caught. "Wolves whose bonds behave abnormally," Morrigan went on. Wolves who grow stronger when they should weaken. Wolves who awaken power that isn’t meant to exist inside pack territory.” The mothers exchanged glances, their expressions tightening. One of them whispered, “That’s only legend.” Morrigan’s lips curved into something that looked like sympathy. “I hope it is,” she replied. “Truly. But we can’t pretend the signs aren’t there.”

Chapter 8: The Mercy of Wolves “Mercy is not weakness, Mira. It is the sharpest blade of all—because only the strong can afford to sheathe it.” My claws sank into his chest. The Alpha of Silvermoon gasped, his back slamming against the cracked bone pillar. His eyes—cold, dead, calculating—were now wide with terror. A thin line of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, staining his pristine white collar. I held him there, pinned against the ancient stone, my silver-furred claws buried in his expensive suit. My wolf was screaming in my head, demanding I tear him apart. Demanding I rip out his throat and watch the light fade from his treacherous eyes.

The wolf, who had been busy chewing up Gavin, spat out his shoe and growled menacingly, followed by jumping on me. I sidestepped, but the wolf managed to push me down with its left paw. I let out a loud cry of pain when I felt it sink its teeth into my shoulder, but before any damage could be done, the wolf immediately retracted its teeth, taking a step back away from me, its green eyes staring at me as if staring right through my soul. From the corner of my eye, I saw Taylor throw a silver bomb at the wolf, who immediately growled out in pain, shifting into a very naked and muscular man, Alpha Alexander Pierce, my biggest enemy!