Magnus Lacrontte Novels & Stories

“I had no idea, Luna. I promise. Besides, have you seen him? That man looks like he’d tear me apart if I stared at him too long. He even asked us to submit our phones.” Of course, now I see why Magnus hates him so much. It’s the petulant attitude. The attitude to control things he doesn't own. To force people into worshipping him like an idol. To take things that weren't given to him. “Who is he, Luna?” “He’s my brother-in-law….” I’m not sure how, Magnus never talks about his family. How I managed to even find was through snooping. That when I found the birth four birth certificates. Names completely cleaned out. Wiped from existence like someone didn't want their identity found. Omw thing w

“You still like being late.” My throat tightened. I knew that voice. Magnus. He stepped forward from the shadows, his bathrobe hanging loose, the hem swaying against his thick thighs. A crooked bite mark scarred his collarbone—my mark from that wild night months ago when I'd laughed and sunk my teeth in, claiming him in the heat of it all. 'I'm branding you. You'll never escape me,' I'd growled then. Now, here he was, the CEO of MC Pharma, the man holding my family's life in his hands. “You’re... the CEO?” My voice came out hoarse, barely mine.

he said, "or I'll burn your whole pack down." I swallowed hard, my mind racing to catch up. Little bride. What did that mean? Every instinct in me screamed to run, and yet I couldn't look away from him. "W-who are you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. A slow, humourless smile crossed his lips. "Me? The scary Lycan King of the North. You must have heard the rumours." He tilted his head, watching me like I was prey. "I'm Magnus Valeborn.”

"You happen to own an old labyrinth out there? Your estate's in the countryside. Correct?" An awkward few seconds lingered before Ricchar spoke again. "Why do you ask?" "Just curious." Magnus gave us a slanted grin. "I dreamt about it recently." "Dreamt?" I repeated. Was he joking? Or just making up stories and lying to our faces? "If Ilya's a real pureblood vamp, then you're essentially the same?" Ricchar placed his wine glass beside his almost empty plate. "My mother was Lykan," Magnus said with another forced smile. "I'm a hybrid, for lack of a better word."

But Magnus ignored him, signaling his bodyguards to push his wheelchair forward. "Sir, the old master won’t allow this," Edric reminded him, knowing full well that his grandfather had never accepted Senna. There was no way he would accept Zara, a mere actress. Yet Magnus remained silent, tightening his hold on Zara as if afraid she would be snatched away. As they disappeared into the distance, Edric felt a searing pain in his chest. The past three years had been agonizing—his young master had barely survived the accident that took Senna’s life, but he lost his legs in the process.

"I'm Magnus." "Magnus…" Troy said, as if testing the word in his mouth. "Nice to meet you. I'm Troy." His eyes moved to Jace again. "I think that I will go to group." Magnus continued to watch him as she bit her short nails. The black paint on them was scraped almost completely off. "How old are you?" She interrupted. "Twenty-five." "Are you a suicide attempt, too?" "No." His eyes flitted from one to the other of them and he noted that Jace had pulled the sleeves down over his wrists again.

“The boss wants the girl. Said that if he has her… Alpha Magnus and his Luna would do anything he demanded.” A growl tore from Magnus—deep, primal, murderous. And my own wolf rose with him, ready to tear the truth out of the man piece by piece. It was much later—after we’d washed the blood and stench of interrogation off our skin—that we headed back to our women. “He really has no idea where Richard Craig’s been hiding,” Marcus muttered as he shrugged on his jacket. “I never knew his hatred for you ran this deep, Alpha Magnus.” Magnus let out a slow, heavy breath. There was exhaustion in it… and something darker.

“For now, just let us get this done, yeah?” “I am curious about what THIS is.” The Lycan said as Leonardo opened the door for him. I kept my eyes on the man before taking a step toward him as I kept my arm around Daniella. I extended my hand to him, and he smiled, extending his to shake mine. “Alaric Klein, to what do we owe the honor?”

Xavier extended his hand and replied, "Likewise." Aurora observed the new man who approached. This was the famous Magnus. His eyes were darker than Tristan's, and his smile was dazzling. He was wearing a gray suit. "Tristan Callahan," Magnus said. "Magnus," Tristan retorted. So, this is the famous Magnus? The photographer analyzed him. His eyes are darker than Tristan's, and his smile is dazzling. He's wearing a gray suit. "You haven't changed a bit, still trying to steal my contracts," Magnus teased.

Downstairs, the networking session was in full swing. Tables glimmered under gold light; champagne flowed; polite laughter masked real tension. Isabella was on a look out for Amélie Laurent. She didn't want a repeat of earlier, and she didn't have an identity much more than a secretary to ward her off Vincent . Isabella was about to ask about when next they'd meet the Mayor when they crossed paths with the Magnus Group delegation. At its center stood Richard Magnus, tall, slick, looking every inch the corporate viper. “Sinclair,” he greeted, voice smooth as ice. “Europe suits you. The headlines certainly do. Everyone's happy you get a share of the pie here. Dumb as worker bees.”