Merlin Actress Morgana Novels & Stories

She says in that low sultry voice that never fails to get my blood roaring with sinful pleasures and in three full confident strides, she is at my desk, perching delicately on my thighs. There are so many reasons why this was wrong. Morgana is my cousin. Whilst this wasn't usually an issue in our world amongst our kind, I have a fated mate from the Lunaria Clan, picked out by my father himself for strategic reasons of course. Sylvia Fenris. A red haired innocent looking beauty.

I staggered, caught by Damon. “Morgana?” Mordecai’s face had gone pale. “That’s impossible. She died twenty years ago.” “Who is Morgana?” I demanded. “Your mother’s sister,” Maren said quietly. “Your aunt. She was exiled for forbidden experiments involving bonding wolves against their will. The Council sentenced her to death, but she disappeared before the execution could be carried out.”

"This is not my true form. This is not my proper realm of existence. What the hell am I doing in the land of the living, trapped within this innocent girl's mortal body?" Morgana looks genuinely confused by this line of questioning, as if Serena's reaction is not what she had expected or prepared for. She opens her mouth to say something in her defense, but absolutely nothing coherent comes out of her throat. Instead, she chuckles nervously and begins scratching at her neck, a gesture that betrays her growing anxiety and discomfort.

Alexis was standing in the Terminus looking at the Departure Board and frowning, ‘Why the fuck does she want to go to Cornwall? He wondered out loud turning to Morgana, ‘Alexis, do you not know your history of England? Have you never heard of King Arthur and the Great Warlock Merlin?’ Alexis shook his head smiling, ‘Are you going to give me a history lesson now Morgana?’ He chuckled and she frowned back at him not amused,

her voice caresses me like a lover as she inches closer, “that would spoil the surprise." "Surprise?" I scoff. "For who? It's no surprise that you plan to torture these poor mortals until you find something better to do." "Now, now, Lord Merlin," she purrs, placing a finger on my chest as she moves to trace my shoulders, circling me like a vulture, "It'll be fun. You see, I gave Morgana a little puzzle to solve. I do hope she is up to the challenge. " She cackles. "Either way, it'll be entertaining to watch."

“See? Even she knows she doesn’t belong here.” Valen’s gaze snapped back to Morgana, his eyes blazing, his voice dangerously cold. “You’ve made a mistake.” “Oh, have I?” she taunted, folding her arms. “You should be thanking me, Valen. I’m doing what no one else dares to do—telling you the truth.” Morgana smirked, folding her arms. “Someone had to. She doesn’t belong here, Valen. You know it as well as I do.” “She belongs where I say she belongs!” Valen snapped. “And you will not speak to her like that again.”

Just present. "Lucian mentioned children," I finally say. "Silas and Morgana." "I know. I've found references." "Tell me." She pulls out a small notebook. "Silas is younger. Silver hair like his father. Powerful but more human than Lucian ever was." "And Morgana?" "The Violet Daughter. Legend in dark magic circles." Sage flips a page. "She disappeared a century ago. Everyone assumed dead." "But if she's alive and learns her father died..." "She'll come for revenge."

Shadows twisted and writhed, manifesting into ethereal beings that lunged toward us, their eyes gleaming with malice. In the midst of the chaos, a figure emerged—a figure that possessed an uncanny resemblance to Isabella, but with a chilling aura of darkness that set her apart. She revealed herself to be Morgana, an ancient witch who had vowed to protect the secrets of the tapestry at any cost. "You thought you could uncover the truth and escape unscathed?" Morgana sneered, her voice dripping with venom. "You underestimate the power of the past. I will ensure that the sins committed by our ancestors haunt you for eternity."

His gaze froze on a figure lying motionless just ahead. It was Morgana. She lay crumpled on the blood-soaked ground, her once-proud robes drenched in crimson. Her left arm was gone, severed at the shoulder, while her left leg jutted out at an unnatural angle, grotesquely twisted. Her face, pale as a ghost, was etched with pain and simmering hatred, every breath a fragile thread threatening to snap. The serpent still loomed beside her, its massive body coiled protectively. Its crimson eyes glowed like twin embers, unblinking, locked on Leon and the others. Its muscles tensed, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

“We f-ked her during an argument with Aislen five years ago, so it’s sort or really f-ked up for everyone.” “Hmm,” Talen’s eyes turned inward and became thoughtful. “Your Triquetra managed to get into a lot of trouble with Morgana within a very short time frame.” “Yeah,” Cameron’s breathy laugh was wry. “We did. It’s Aislen, by the way,” he added. “Morgana’s just… Like an alias. She’s really Aislen.” “Morgana is the name that she chose for herself,” Talen rose to his feet.