Marvels Gifted Novels & Stories

The rage at being used. "These chambers marked in red," I pointed. "What are those?" Vesper's hand stilled. When she looked up, genuine fear crossed her face. "That's where he keeps them. The gifted ones." My blood went cold. "The empaths you mentioned." "And others." She added more detail to that section. "Five holding cells. Reinforced. Enchanted with something that blocks gifts from working at full strength." "Enchanted?" "Dark magic. Old magic. I don't understand how it works but I've seen it." She drew symbols near the cells. "These marks are carved into the stone. They dampen abilities. Make gifted wolves easier to control."

“The rogues were defeated, and we found him after the battle.” “They thought I was dead,” Kevin continued, “I sure as hell should have been dead. The rogues really did a number on me. But Amanda saved me. She came to me after the battle, and told me that I was one of the bravest warriors they had ever seen. And because of my selfless act towards my Alpha, I was given the choice to be saved. But I fell in love with her, the mate bond was so strong. And she felt it too.” Kevin paused, looking out the window, into the sky. He took a deep breath before continuing. “The Gods gave us a choice. She chose me. She chose a mortal life with me. Freya gave her a pendant, the one Sam wears now, to help k

That same day, I slipped the paper figure under Miles’ pillow and instructed my parents to watch him while he slept. The next day, my fever gradually subsided. This time, I was determined to see how Zoe could enjoy her fortune as she did in my previous life. … Soon enough, Miles caught a fever, which scared my parents. They wanted to take him to the hospital, but I stopped them. I promised them that this fever would pass and they would have a normal son soon. My parents hesitated for a moment, still in disbelief. After all, Miles had been mentally disabled for almost 20 years!

Kwen's POV: It's been an Intresting few weeks to say the least. After our last meeting with where Miza and Melody explained their stories to everyone that needed to know, Marcus informed me that he had instructed, before everything was said and done, for no one to speak about what they saw about me or our family to anyone. That included Lisa's treachery. He didn't even need to explain why before I understood. Had everyone known, she would have ducked for cover, immediately. And after finding out that her father was a high ranking council member, he would've played a hand in making sure she got away. I appreciated that forward thinking on his part. I also tried to get him to explain why every

He nodded his head and sighed. " his brothers are coming back in the morning, be sure to get Arlo on your side before then or you know what's going to happen." I nodded my head and sat down. They couldn't do anything to me because I was stronger than them plus I have a few gifts apart from my healing powers and I'm not ready to show the world my other gifts. Micah and Arlo were lucky enough to see one of them. My pack and my parents know about my other gifts but I'm just not ready for others to know.

The dinner table fell into a dead silence. “Sweetheart, come with me.” Mom led me to the backyard and pushed open the storage room door. In the corner were more than a dozen neatly stacked cases of the exact same whisky. Some were damp and moldy, others were covered in cobwebs. These were all the New Year’s gifts I had my husband, Kevin Zane, buy over the past three years. “W-What is this?” My voice came out dry. My throat was tight.

Elena’s Journal, Entry dated fourteen months before her death: ‘I have been thinking about the second gift and whether I made the right choice in suppressing it. The arguments for suppression remain what they were when I first made the decision. The pack world is not ready for what the second gift can do at full capacity. I have seen enough of how gifted wolves are treated when their abilities exceed what the institutional structures can comfortably manage. The healing side is acceptable. A healer is useful and comprehensible and fits into existing frameworks. The shadow side in its basic form is frightening but manageable. What the second gift does at full capacity is neither.

It felt more like the thick and hard sofa I had in my cottage back at Shtylla e forcës, only smoother and neater. "Your sofa is a rock," I blurted out. Gillian chuckled. "I'm the next successor of the Guard-Gifted leader which means a lot of them pack themselves in my house. In case you haven't noticed, we are heavy and rough. I'm not going to spend money constantly changing my furniture," that made sense. Guard-Gifted wolves' special ability is super strength and it almost seemed like the law of gravity didn't completely work on them. They are always muscular, whether female or male and even if they manage to escape the muscularity, they can't escape their body weight. They can crush someth

Regina’s heart continues to pound out a rhythm of terror, as she recalls the manic - insidious - light in the bandits’ eyes, their grins promising something awful and bloodthirsty. “And don’t look back.” She grits her teeth, and swallows the bile in her throat that rises with the fear. She yanks on the horse’s reigns, and turns back. No *** As a general matter, Mattel does not use his Gift. A gift given to only dominant alphas. The alphas of all alphas. It is more a curse than a gift, and at times, even at the risk of death, he finds that he prefers not to use it, for all it does is bring him a sense of hollow cold that he cannot shake for days after.

Stella gritted her teeth, and the muscles in her face twitched slightly. "So what? Maybe you're the one who killed him and stole the gold." "I read that body too." I lowered my gun, walked toward Stella under the protection of two tactical officers, and stared directly into her eyes. "In the vision, I saw the person who smothered him. "There was a long, very distinctive scar on their left wrist. A burn scar caused by highly concentrated sulfuric acid." I grabbed Stella's left wrist. Before she could react, I yanked up the sleeve of her coat.