Miraculous Viperion Novels & Stories

Like she knew how this would end before we even started. “Your hacker; Maverick; he once worked in Viper’s dark web division, yes?” “Until she tried to kill him,” Damien said. “He barely survived”, “Or,” Lucia said quietly, “he was allowed to survive”, Damien stepped closer. “What are you saying?”

Dear Mira, As per your previous request, the council has already provided me with Vesmon's travel files. Upon reviewing them, I came across something intriguing. It appears that when Vesmon met a doctor at an event, he underwent a significant change and began to behave like a fallen rogue. According to the latest report received by the council, he became excessively obsessed with the dirty money he gained from abducting creatures. In addition to his obsession with you, it seems that someone was influencing him. This individual possessed considerable knowledge about our kind and was not human. Please be cautious, Mira.

“The creatures are gone. Burned. The rift in the sky closed as soon as you collapsed. But he escaped. The warlock.” I closed my eyes. “I felt him watching. Like something behind a mirror.” “His name is Velarion,” Dorian said softly. “One of the warriors found summoning scroll... He’s… not just a warlock. He’s one of the Forgotten. Ancient. Dangerous beyond anything we’ve seen.” The air grew colder. “And he knows who I am and where I am. This was the second time he came...” I whispered. Dorian didn’t answer - he didn’t need to. The bond between us was thrumming low and urgent. He was terrified. Not for himself. For me.

JASMINE The next day was Saturday, and I was scheduled for the late shift at the café. Checking the schedule and seeing that I was supposed to work with Lucy for several hours, unable to face her, I texted Valerie to tell her I was sick. I knew she’d be very concerned for a couple of reasons. For one, when adult werewolves got sick, they got really sick. There was no such thing as a small cold, since our wolf was capable of healing us. Only young werewolves who had yet to shift were capable of getting colds. In summary, she would likely assume that I had to be hospitalized. Second, I never called out from work, so she would definitely think I was hospitalized. But I couldn’t even bring mysel

Madeleine Cross -one of the few humans immune to the deadly virus Zion- after an unfortunate turn of events such as the loss of her last remaining parental figure finds herself captured by a BloodHound -a genetically enhanced being, designed to identify and retrieve the last remaining Negatives roaming the Earth. She gets thrown into a sterile room to be subjected to various tests, under the pretence that her blood would be the key to develop an antidote against the deadly virus...But that couldn't be any further than the dark truth.

“I hope you stay true to your words. But all this have happened, and you still aren’t curious about Aiden’s enemy?” “Enlighten me then.” “Azvameth De Veil.” As soon I mentioned his name, the colors on his face changed. The calm and composed facial expression turned to something dark. I felt like the storm of darkness clouded his eyes. His body turned stiff and I could feel his face burning. The personality which he was using to tease me shifted to being cold. I could feel his hatred for Azvameth just by his name so I am not sure what he would do if Azvameth shows up in front of him. It would be an end of Azvameth if he shows up in front of this raging lion.

and went back into the room before a face could be seen. Nothing ordered. Nothing asked for. Reaching for the glass slowly. The smell arrived before it lifted. Clove smoke. Mint. Thumb running around the side of the glass. Nail catching something. A rough mark cut into the crystal. Turning the glass just a little. A snake. Rough and quick like done in a hurry. Coiled up on itself. Every drop of blood went cold. Syris was here. Alive. Varek had lifted him off the floor by his throat in front of five hundred people and he was alive and in this room right now.

Shier hollered and hit her with the whip one more time. “Argh—Da—” Becca flinched when another lash hit her. “The vampire potion, isn’t that what the vampire wants? That potion was created by your godmother, who was a four-hundred and eighty-year-old vampire, and she was your mother’s best friend. She injected the potion into your mother when she was pregnant with you. That woman put my wife in danger!” Shier yelled and continued hitting her, as Becca had tears leaching out of her eyes.

Danrious took his hand away from my mouth. "Help," was the only thing I could say, but he just fixed his glasses and grasped my hand. "Don't worry, you won't end up like them," Sir Daryl assured. I'm unsure what he means, but I fear them now. He licked my wrist, then sank his fangs into it without warning. I winced at the agony but didn't have the strength to fight it. They're not humans; they're bloodthirsty vampires. A tear fell from my eye, and I gazed up, seeing the plain ceiling and closing my eyes.

Leander says quietly behind his glass, "because he is walking directly toward us." I have three seconds to compose myself. I use none of them productively. I am nervous and shook and caught completely off guard, and then his voice arrives from directly behind me. Low. Velvety. Rough. Very close. "Viktor Sorano." I do not turn around. I fix my eyes on my father's face and breathe. "My daughter, Seraphina. Say hello." He uses the tone reserved for introducing toddlers to strangers. I turn. Maksim Orlov is amused. His drip is immaculate. His rizz is the particular kind that belongs to genuinely hot, brooding men who do not try for it. I am breathless in a way I refuse to name out loud.