Merlin Actress Morgana Novels & Stories

“Maelor was right, you would have been the perfect host. Zesty, smart and strong. You even have good taste in men. I would have enjoyed fucking this bucking bronco, but you couldn’t let me have that, could you?” I know immediately that the woman wrapping herself around Not Arlo is Morgana. He’s not my Arlo, I don’t give a damn what she does with this soulless carbon copy. Her hair is a cascade of dark curls, coiled like living tendrils around her shoulders, framing her impossibly lovely face. High cheekbones cast sharp hollows in the flickering light, her full lips curled in a knowing smirk as she eyes me. Her eyes, deep green, laced with gold, glows with something both mesmerizing and peril

"I heard your lament. A brilliant mind, a noble lineage, trapped in a cage of flesh and bone. I can unlock those dormant abilities. I can give you the stamina and the heighted senses you crave. I can make you what you were always meant to be." Jose stared at her for a moment, the silence stretching thin. Then, he snorted. A sharp, mocking laugh escaped his throat. "Right. And let me guess, you’re a fairy godmother? Or maybe a Sith Lord?" He leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms. "Who are you really?" "I am Morgana," she replied, her voice dropping to a dangerous, icy register. Jose’s laughter returned, louder this time. "Morgana? Seriously? What, is Merlin in the hallway getting us

[ELARA] “It’ll never stop bleeding,” Morgana repeats slowly, enunciating every word with a movement of her lips that seems to be casting a charm in itself. She gets to her feet and walks to me, swaying her hips as she tucks her black hair behind her ear. She appears cunningly beautiful for the first time. All this time I believed her to be mature—a woman who knew how to hide her intelligence. But now, in this moment, she shows a side of her that’s terrifyingly mesmerizing.

“Morgana! Will you shut up for a minute?” I have been hearing the two talk for the last few minutes after Aramis left. I was told to get ready for something special he had planned for me. In those few minutes, I figured out that Jocelina was the mother of this girl Morgana, who was pretty bratty but whenever she was in front of Aramis, she wouldn’t stop being all cute and naïve but even her tone changed when he wasn’t around.

Weapons remained drawn and everybody tensed as a woman stepped into the light. The cascading raven-black hair over her shoulders matched the glint of her emerald eyes with cunning. “Morgana,” Luna breathed, her grip tightening on her dagger. "Ah, so you're able to recognize me," Morgana said with a smile, her lips curving into a wicked smile. "Good. It is always pleasant when the student remembers their mentor." "You betrayed me," Luna said, her voice trembling with the vibrations of anger and pain. "You sent me to that relic knowing it would mark me. Knowing it would—"

Grabbing hold of her hands, I give them a light squeeze, fixing a serious look on my face. “You are Morgana Pendragon, daughter of Uther Pendragon and sister to King Arthur. There is nothing you can’t accomplish.” A smile spreads across my face. “Except for take over your brother's kingdom.” Laughter erupts from Morgana, chasing away the worries that crowded her mind. “Low blow little Wolf Queen.” She tells me, a delighted smile on her face.

“Trust me, your father will not live to see another moon.” “How are you so sure of this?” She smiles. And I swear her necklace does something. “Trust me, babe. Do you?” “Of—“ Morgana’s face comes to my mind. Her eyes, bright and blue like a summer sky. The way she smiles, the way her eyes light up whenever she sees me. Her voice, calming and soft. And her lips— “Ryker,” Delilah’s voice pulls me back to the present. “Morgana is not a good person. Please remember this. You’ve not forgotten how she drowned me when we were kids?”

She was the figure under the tree at Colin’s party, the one watching us at Moonbrook. “Identify yourself,” Solon called up, his voice carrying across the yard. The woman looked at us and spoke casually. “After everything, you still don’t know me. I’m hurt. I expected better of Rudolf’s children.” Next to me, Camilla stood rigid, her face twisted with a rage so deep and old it must have built up over a lifetime. My stomach dropped. Then I realized who she was. Morgana. She was here, inside Silverfang, above us. The wall did nothing to keep her out. That thought frightened me. What if she enchanted the mad rogues? Would she be able to get them through the wall?

There was a mountain as I saw, crafted like a throne with a semi circle reaching from one part of the throne to another with signs scribbled on it. Steven was at the bottom of it, looking up at the dark mountains. "It took him days to finally get up there and it was all a waste." Raphael said. "One thing no one knew was that Gefion was actually the goddess of magic." "And Morgana was her sister." Light fades. I had all possible flashes and deja Vu trying to remember where I heard the name Morgana from. And I realised she was the one Butt told us about, she created Eregdrix.

Morgan had turned fifteen only a few months earlier, but none of us gave a shit about how old she was getting. To Mom, Dad, and me, she was still our little girl. Our princess. Mom called Dad and me into her study and placed the dagger on the desk between us. Dad chuckled. I didn't. I knew Mom's face. She had already made up her mind about something. And once Adeline Miller made up her mind, the rest of us were usually just there to receive instructions. “Morgan cannot attend college in the Northern Kingdom, or any Kingdom in North America,” she said.