Malivore Legacies Novels & Stories

“I have your daughter.” The line went dead silent. “I’ll text you the location. Come alone,” I said calmly. “Or the last memory you’ll have of her will be the sound of her screaming.” “You bastard—” I hung up. I stared at the screen for a long moment. My hand trembled slightly, but not from fear. From exhilaration. The kind that simmers just beneath the surface like a beast pacing in its cage. Nikolai. Dante. Even Alessia. They all thought they could escape the gravity of their bloodlines. But I know the truth: legacy is a curse. One passed from father to son, mother to daughter.

Malachai said, his voice calm, almost casual, as he nodded toward the Nightshade Legacies book. I didn’t respond right away, too caught off guard by his sudden appearance. My heart pounded in my chest, and I found myself instinctively taking a step back, even though I knew there was nowhere to go. Malachai’s lips curled into a faint, satisfied smile as he continued, “I’m glad you’ve finally seen the truth for yourself. Saves me the trouble of explaining your roots again.” I swallowed hard, my mind racing. I had read enough of the book to understand the gravity of my lineage, but I wasn’t about to let him think that he could control me just because of it.

The moment Barin trusted me with his name. “I am Lena Mora,” I said through clenched teeth. “I carry the broken hope of the first mages. I wear my scars, I don’t erase them. I remember every soul we lost. Every name is carved into my heart. I don’t burn the world to feel alive—I fight to keep it alive.” The circle pulsed violently. A shockwave burst outward, knocking Maxwell and Barin to the ground. The sky darkened, not with clouds, but with shadow, coalescing into a figure high above us. A mirror image of me, haloed in fire, smiling with infinite calm.

“And I deserve to inherit her properties. Including this house,” Margaret rolled her eyes. “You are not even a real daughter,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. “You are just a mistake, a product of my father's infidelity. You don't deserve anything,” My father, Jenkins, looked at me with a mixture of disappointment and disgusting “You fool, you need to understand that you are not in a position to be making demands,” he said. “You've brought shame to this family and you need to be grateful that we're even willing to take you back in,”

// A/N: *mes pattes* is cajun slang for " my paws, or feet" BIG ANNOUNCMENT! Legacy is now available on multiple platforms, I will leave details on my Facebook page @facebook.com/danger.beanz.3 Happy Reading <3

he replied aloud, his gravelly voice low and steady, emotions steadying: protectiveness for Alya making his steps deliberate, love warming the bond amid the ruins' chill. Mara moved right, her green eyes narrowing, Storm urging a shift but holding for stealth. "Stick close, Lila," she murmured, her voice a protective growl, placing a hand on the healer's shoulder. "Storm's got your back. These ruins reek of trap—feel that hum?" Emotions surged in Mara: loyalty to Alya fueling her vigilance, a sisterly concern for Lila deepening their bond, anger at Veyra simmering like the runes' pulse.

she answered but when Azreal continued to stare at her, she knew he wasn't kidding. “Why did you bring her,” Mj asked and Azreal shook his head, “I assume you mean Pepper, I brought her because she is yours Mj just like Casper is yours,” Azreal paused to wave his hands slowly around the room, “and just like the rest of the things you own are contained here I think they should be as well,” Azreal’s skull cocked to the side as Mj turned away and sniffled. Azreal did not speak until Mj was ready, and when she turned to look at him, he was surprised to see her very composed, albeit red and blotchy face, “does that mean I need to leave the packhouse,” she asked and Azreal almost fell back onto t

The girl, who prided and found pleasure in coning sugar daddies with her late boyfriend. The fifteenth law of power…All great leaders since Moses have known that a feared enemy must be crushed completely, if one amber is left alight, no matter how dimly it smolders a fire will eventually break out. More is lost through stopping halfway than through total annihilation. The enemy will recover and will seek revenge. Crush him, not only in body but in spirit.

&& {Are you having fun, Your Highness? “I am not… indeed. I am having fun.” He threw all the crushes' relics to the back. {Tsk, tsk tsk. I guess you’re up a creek without a paddle for encountering the future lord of my clan.} Wan expressed his displeasure whenever Malikul destroyed the relics that he’d encountered. Malikul went around the underworld to stop the communication to enter the country using his own means. The shortest way to do it is to kill every informant and destroy every informant company that existed.

He was barking like an offended pack leader, but his eyes were gleaming with greed; if Kaelen had compromised Mirelle, the Blackthorne franchise would be legally bound to settle the stadium debts without the Frostbite Glade transfer. I looked down at the shattered crystal by Kaelen’s boots, the sticky residue on the stone smelling faintly of silver-thistle and mountain-root—a brutal, illegal heat-inducer meant to break an Alpha’s restraint. A cold dread settled deep in my gut, followed by a burning rage. Vespera and Mirelle were so desperate to claim the corporate alliance that they had used a rogue’s trick on a pack sovereign! I fixed my gaze on Mirelle’s shaking shoulders, a vicious laugh