Magolor Without Hood Novels & Stories

"Then, Magnolia looked around warily before she whistled, and a black hooded figure appeared just then." "However, Mango could not see the person's face clearly as it was dark. Therefore, she kept wondering who Magnolia was meeting up with." Could it be one of her subordinates? "However, before Mango could make head or tail of the situation, she saw Magnolia kneeling before the person with a panicked expression." I didn't expect that you would dare to come here! The hooded figure in black sounded vicious and cold. Mango frowned slightly when she heard this. Why was Magnolia meeting a man here?

‘I am going to shield you but don’t move, allow her to believe she still has you, this bitch is mine’ He looks confused at first but the minute I push my shield over him he smirks at me. The witch slides the hood of her cloak down, of course it's this bitch. I flick my eyes from Vulcan’s to hers. “Morgana” I say, she smirks clearly unaware that her powers no longer work on my mate. We keep the fact we are shields private for this exact reason. She giggles, clearly thinking she has the upper hand. “Look at you now, Princess. One more step and I'll boil his heart” I smile at her, she frowns.

“I don’t know anyone named Morgana. I know her as V.” “What does she look like?” “She uses disguises. Sometimes she’s tall and blonde, sometimes she’s short, curvy and African American. Its changed each time I’ve been near her, but she smells the same. A strange burning metallic overlayed with a mustiness, like mold. But she tries to cover it with perfume. Her voice hasn’t changed either, but I know she can do that too.” I nod, not surprised by his information. “Who is he planning on attacking next?”

Alvitir finalized. The sun was blindingly annoying, and needlessly blistering. It was at a degree that caused Mordeu’s body to release fluids from the pores on his skin. His hair was held up high into a short ponytail just because of the radiation from the sun. It could’ve been the new clothes he was wearing that resulted in this sudden discomfort, but surely the blame can sit nowhere but on the sun. The new clothes he was wearing were the uniform assigned to each person; a simple, yet classy combat outfit that made Mordeu grimace because of the undeniable similarity it possessed to the attire he had seen on Kai. He was without a weapon—not like he needed one—and only the elves, the witches,

She wears a long, heavy cloak, her face hidden beneath a low hood. Morgana grips Lucinda tighter to her chest to shield her from the bloodthirsty eyes watching them. “Stay away! Stay away from us!” Morgana screams. Morgana does not back down. Her legs shake from exhaustion, and from walking through the storm, but her eyes burn with pure fire. She raises her head, staring straight at the hooded woman, ready to fight with her all if anyone makes a move toward her daughter. But the hooded woman stops. She frowns, her head tilting as she looks at Morgana's torn clothes, her bare, bloody feet, and the fierce glare on her face.

Morrigan’s sharp, shrill voice cut through the ambient roar of the arena. She stood in the center of the southern preparation ring, clad in gleaming silver-and-violet light armor forged from high-grade moon-steel. Her dark hair was braided tightly into an intricate war-crown, and her posture was rigid with supreme, arrogant confidence. She turned to face me, her dark eyes flashing with cruel satisfaction as she caught sight of the dark red stain spreading down my tunic collar. "Hand me the primary rapier," Morrigan commanded, extending her gloved hand without looking at me. "And if you drop so much as a drop of sweat on the leather grip, I will have Master Grendel break your fingers."

Melody and I were still wrapped in each other's arms as Luna Morgana glared at me with her hazel eyes. "Luna Mor...gana, good mor...ning," I stuttered as my eyes swept over her. Her long glossy ginger hair cascaded over her shoulders and her oblong pretty face was devoid of makeup. She was wearing a lovely satin pink nightgown. "Good morning, Luna Morgana," Melody greeted her. She didn't respond to any of us as she glared at us. Seeing the anger in her eyes, I didn't need a soothsayer to tell me that there was about to be trouble.

announces a feminine voice, pulling me from my reverie. I whip around and find a 5’1” figure standing in front of me, concealed by a black, hooded cloak. I stare at the figure in stunned confusion. How were they able to approach without me hearing them? I take a breath through my nose, only to find no scent lingering in the air. I feel the flame of my magic burning inside me and quickly draw on it, my body releasing a purple glow as I throw my hand out, releasing my magic in an attempt to capture the foreign invader.

“Come on. We’ll get her out of here, Regina. Somehow.” As we walked down the corridor, I couldn’t shake the image of Beatrice’s face, pale, lost, trapped inside a fog she hadn’t chosen. When we stepped outside, the sunlight felt cruelly bright after the dim interior. I squinted, lifting a hand to shield my eyes, and that’s when I saw her. Standing near the iron gates, her figure poised and familiar even from a distance. Morgana. She was wearing a white coat, her dark hair loose, eyes gleaming with that same cold amusement I’d seen before.

Caged with silver collars, they couldn’t even see. If they couldn’t fight their way out of this… what hope did the rest of us have? But no. I couldn’t let myself spiral into that place. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Not tonight. “Now, everybody eats up,” Morgan said cheerfully, clapping her hands together like a delighted hostess at a garden party instead of the monster she was. The table groaned under the weight of roasted meats, glazed fruits, golden bread, and crystal goblets brimming with wine that smelled too sweet to trust.