Maleficent Moors Novels & Stories

The reality she'd been avoiding was becoming impossible to ignore. "You need to breathe." "I am breathing." "You are hyperventilating." A tear slid down her cheek. She laughed once. The sound completely broken. "I have claws, Ollie." I couldn't exactly argue with that. Another claw pushed through. Longer this time. Sharp enough to catch the moonlight. She immediately jerked her hand back. Horrified. Like she'd done something wrong. And suddenly I wasn't worried about the transformation anymore. I was worried about her.

Oh the bad moon that was still two long weeks but it was already messing with his head, along side his inner horny wolf. {E} Roman! {R} What? {E} Stop making her look so hot in my head! {R} Now why would I stop, when you already feel like f^- {E} Roman! Stop, she's underage! It's not going to happen! His horny wolf calmed down and knew he'd never dare cross her panty line if she was underage. For the time being, Roman knew he'd had to lock himself up due to the bad moon approaching, because he had a bad feeling, he wouldn't be able to control himself around her.

Full of something I had never seen in them before. Shame. "I don't know where to start," he said quietly. "The beginning," I said. He nodded slowly. Then he took a breath. "Your mother was the Queen of the Silverpine Territory. The most powerful territory in the werewolf world. She was kind. Beloved. And she was murdered twenty years ago by the man who now sits on the throne." I stared at him. I had heard the name Silverpine before. Whispers in stories. Legends. A place that had been destroyed long before I was born.

Asher Elara stood frozen, her eyes darting between the two women on the tables—Millie, helpless and bound, and her mother, who had been drawn back from the afterlife for this moment. The look on her face was a fucking picture, a perfect blend of horror and denial. “This is just a nightmare,” she screamed, her voice breaking, echoing off the cold walls. “This can’t be real! My mother is dead! Magic isn’t real!” I stepped closer, a dark smile creeping across my face as I relished in her suffering. “Oh, but it is real, Elara. Look around you. Feel it. This isn’t some figment of your imagination. This is real.”

Moana’s POV. Marek lifted his chin toward the starlit sky. Then he slowly smoothed the front of his robes, adjusted the iron rings on his fingers, and rested both hands firmly on the carved head of his cane. He stood there for a long moment, letting the silence settle over the clearing as every eye remained fixed on him. Finally, he lowered his gaze to the gathered pack. “By the Old Laws of Blackthorn, let every wolf who believes the blood of a traitor has no place among us raise their hand before the Moon Goddess and bear witness to their judgment.”

If I could even call them that. Gone was their human features. In place was inhuman beauty and clawed fingers. They had the black and red eyes of hungry daemons. Leo bared at his teeth, red eyes flashing from me to Kayla to Miles and Silver. A chilly wind blew against my flesh but what pricked the hair on my skin was the cold look in Moira’s eyes. Her lips stretched in a terrifying smile. Leo smiled with satisfaction as the rest of us looked shocked at the sight before us. He took a step forward. Silver growled and took a step toward him but Kayla shot out a hand to hold her back.

It felt thick like I was floating through fog and every now and again I’d feel the brush of fur through the fog, the sensation was the only thing keeping me tethered and not floating farther off into nothing. : You’re almost at the finish line Feilan. Two more mate marks and you will be a Goddess. Now is the time you should be asking that king of yours what he is hiding from you. Why would they lie about knowing my father had 2 sons? What is everyone hiding Feilan? :

My attention was drawn to vintage portraits and masterpieces, which were almost barely discernible by dirt and grime. I began taking a cautious stride forward while manually trying to calculate the floorboard's sturdiness. Then, with my bare fingers, I slowly and carefully brushed away the cobwebs obscuring the portrait, enabling me to see what the photo had to say. It was a photo of a woman and a child, theoretically a mother and daughter. With her brown and wavy hair, the woman strongly resembles a Goddess of Beauty intricately crafted in the form of a human. But there was just something disturbing and unnerving about her gaze that made the strands on my shoulders and the back of my neck s

Dust motes swirled around him as he flipped to the chapter on witches. "The Witch's Allure," he read under his breath, "a natural pheromonal magic that enhances a witch's charisma. While often mistaken for deliberate enchantment, the allure is an involuntary trait..." An involuntary growl rumbled in his chest. Involuntary. Meaning Rita wasn't doing this to him on purpose. Meaning his father was wrong about— The page tore under his fingers. Nathan cursed, smoothing the parchment. His eyes caught on a footnote at the bottom: See also: Fated Bonds for cases of supernatural attraction overriding species instinct.

“How quaint,” said Maleficent. A set of emerald orbs glowed against the moonlight sheen as a couple of butterflies withdrew from her arms. Droplets of blood trickled down her hands as she stood up and strode towards the balcony of her room. Because for once, the moon will be seen outside my balcony. The presence of the thick cluster of clouds followed by thunderclaps and zaps of bolts of lightning was not hovering the Forsaken Lands – thanks to