Mal's Full Name Descendants Novels & Stories

A silver circlet resting low on his brow, engraved with his tribe's crest. "Please, come in", Diana said, waving them in with a smile. Malik's father stepped in first, discreetly surveying the surroundings and then making way for his wife and their six children. Killian stepped forward and offered out his hand "A pleasure to finally meet you, we've heard a lot from your boy. My name is Killian White-Jones and this is my wife, Diana Jones-White, Matriarch of this family" the two men shook hands, followed by Killian and Malik's mother before Diana came over to shake hands too.

She chuckles, “That’s because I am their boss. It’s a title, not a nickname.” Mal mulls this over, “So people call you by your full names all the time?” he smiles, “I’m mostly called ‘Mal’ and he’s ‘Ash’.” She frowns at that, but nods. “What’s the matter?” “’Mal’ means ‘bad’. Malcontent, malfunction, malignant.” She shudders at the last one, “I won’t be calling you that unless you insist. I’d rather call you ‘Kai’, unless that’s a non-starter.” He smirks,

Malicay, who looked hardly impressed by her greeting, was forced by the pressure from his parents to bow, although he was a kind and soft child, there were still things Malicay didn't like, and for some reason, royalty was one of them but now she was slowly becoming an exception. "I am Malicay, son of Micheal Adams, a painter from the northern region of Austria, princess." The girl could tell he had drawn a line between them, it was there when he mentioned who his father was, it was a way of showing the difference between their status. Although Michael's business was rising with constant popularity, it did not mean that he was yet accepted to the social world.

Liam grinned. Julian swirled his drink, eyes unfocused. “Great. So we’re dealing with a vengeful ex, a broken woman, and now a baby.” “She’s not just ‘a broken woman,’” Liam said sharply. Julian didn’t respond. Jasper finally spoke, his tone calm but clipped. “You handle that. The Adrian stuff. Because I’m dealing with something else.” “What?” Liam asked. “The old shit,” Jasper said. “His real name is Malcom. And I think he made a deal with my father years ago. A contract. A powerful one.”

I just stared, emotions storming behind my eyes—confusion and disbelief. He had returned. Ryker's elder brother. Back from the dead. And I had a feeling that nothing in this kingdom would be the same again. “Where are my manners?" Said the man. “We were never formally introduced. My name is Malachi." Malachi? Even his name is dark. It was clear what he was here for; the question was, would I give it to him?

I put my beer down and walked to him. "My mother is Grace Black, she died when I was 12, my half-brother Malcom killed her. Azzrail is my uncle and Malcom's father. Malcom and I, couldn't survive without the other; we were basically twins when we were kids. Malcom was supposed to be king, everyone believed that he was my father's firstborn, he is actually Azzrail's firstborn. But of course, neither my dad nor me or Malcom knew about this. I wasn't very strong as a child, so my father hated that he had a useless child. He used to teach and train Malcom, I might not have had a great father, but my mother was there, Malcom hated how much time my mother spent with me. Malcom and I are 1.2 years

Cord had looked Dayen in the eye when he had pronounced the virgin to be given: Mala. Mala was outclan and different from the blonde men and women of High Stag. Her hair was reddish brown and wavy where theirs was straight, she was tall where the women of High Stag were petite. And she had no father or brothers to deny the chiefs, having been raised as a ward of the shaman school after her mother, a refugee from Great Bull, had taken fever when she was ten summers old. Over the last eight summers, she had grown to womanly curves, and the sight of her body made Dayen want her with the deep need of new manhood even now when he was ten summers beyond it. It was probably that, more than the need

"And for his reward his descendants were cast aside and his name wrote in the annals of infamy, is that justice?" Once again Lord Jetirs eye's took ahold of Boros', he stood up placing both palms flat against the top of his desk, " Boro Malus, Son of Bora Malus the Great, will you help me avenge my friend, your father, and topple this tyrant king?"

Flora’s P.O.V “W-wh-at?” I stuttered. “You are our blood, Flora.” Malachi smiled at me like a loving father, his eyes glossed with unshed tears. “It was a knowing deep in my bones the instant I set eyes on you. We have been waiting centuries to find you.” I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. “If you are my ancestor…that means…the Goddess…” “Yes,” they nodded. “You are the descendent of the Goddess as well. You are our grandchild’s child.”

“My full name is Declan Ragnar. My father was Alpha Ragnar, the leader overthrown by Valdis to take this place.” I let his words sink in, “you’re the rightful heir? Oh your poor family, oh Declan,” surprising myself as tears swiftly rolled down my cheeks. I had heard countless tales of how his family were viciously defeated. How Valdis tracked down uncles, aunts, cousins.