Morgana Camelot Novels & Stories

Pouring through gaps in our defences, overwhelming our guards through sheer numbers. And behind them, walking calmly through the chaos, was a woman. She was tall and elegant, with black hair that flowed like liquid shadow and eyes that glowed the same red as the dark wolves. She wore robes covered in symbols that hurt to look at directly. Morgana. She had found us. Kael was already there, shifted into his massive black wolf form, tearing through dark wolves with brutal efficiency. But there were too many. For every one he killed, two more took their place.

“Morgana comes from a long line of healers and sorcerers. Her knowledge will be… beneficial to the pack.” Morgana’s voice was calm and polished. “I am here at my father’s request. And I intend to see the ceremony through.” Her focus did not waver from me, though she spoke to the King as if she were utterly loyal. I could sense her already plotting, every subtle movement a chess piece, and I felt the thrill of having a rival whose mind worked as intricately as my own. Damon’s jaw clenched. I felt it through the bond before I even looked at him. Tension flared in his chest, protective and possessive and I smiled faintly to myself.

She came closer to him with her slow steps and stood in front of him. “Make everyone remember about what kind of a monster he was, Callum,” tears aggressively fell from Morgana's eyes, which glossed Amelia's eyes too. No one could ever imagine the depth of Morgana's pain at that moment. She was a mother, who had lost everything, even the memories of her dead child and her own child had given her this cruel pain. “Give justice to my C…. Caspian and Nevara,” Morgana broke down into tears the second she took her elder son's name from her mouth. That son, whose name she could not even recall from the past 30 years.

POV: Morga, Queen of the Raven Coven "Don’t move another inch, Rhea. If you take one more step, the seal on the child’s life snaps, and your 'miracle' becomes a tomb." Morga’s voice was like ice cracking under a winter moon, sharp and brittle. She stood atop the shattered remains of the Moon-Drowned Altar, her raven-feather cloak fluttering in the unnatural wind that still whipped through the ruins. Her violet eyes were no longer filled with the terror of a woman facing a goddess; they were filled with the cold, calculating triumph of a strategist who had just played her final, hidden card.

Clothed in a black coat with a black belt griping the coat around her waist and a free fall black hair, she turned over towards the darkness folded her fist and decreased their mass to inexistent. Butt and Khloe were left speechless but Silva wasn't. She acted like she knew something! "This might be the wrong time but she is a descendant of Morgana." "That is the only explanation to why she survived the process!" Silva, whispered, hesitantly detailing. It took me seconds to realise that Morgana was the New Goddess of Magic. If Maria is an offspring of Morgana, that means her presumed parents weren't her true parents and that means she is a ......

Thinking she was already dead, I bowed my head and prayed for her lost soul. “How inhumane!” John and Mikael finally came to an agreement. And there was no doubt, that the Morgans are indeed ruthless. To think it would end there, I turned my back. But John called my attention, “Look, sir.” A female figure appeared and smiled lavishly at Selene’s poor condition. She threw and scattered petals of red roses. With my clear vision, I knew for sure that it was indeed a woman. A thought played in my mind that made my blood boil even more, “Woman? Is he Drake’s mistress?”

Simon's alleged mate; Morgana. I wondered where she had come from . "Help!." I cried pushing my hands out to both of them . They both laughed. It dawned on me, Amelia had tricked me. Morgana belonged to the winter light pack. They controlled the weather , as well as snow . They all had white hairs like Morgana's. The fragile ice was no accident. Morgana had placed me here intentionally. Lifting her two fingers, she whispered something inaudible into her hands and pointed them at the freezing water. The water grew three times chillier than it already was. "Please!." I cried, stretching my hands towards them.

he said roughly, turning away. An hour later, we were in an SUV heading south. Luna slept in the back while I sat beside Dimitri, trying to process everything. "Tell me about my aunt," I said quietly. "Morgana is... intense. She runs a supernatural bar in the French Quarter. Neutral ground for all species." He glanced at me. "She's also one of the most powerful witches alive." "More powerful than my mother was?" "Different. Your mother was a seer and healer. Morgana is a war witch."

"As for what happened last night... I'll just consider myself unlucky for having slept with a wild boar!" Morgan's jaw tightened instantly. The veins along his neck bulged, and his eyes darkened at the comparison. Morgan—the sole heir who had always been admired—had just been likened to a wild animal. But before he could retaliate or seize her arm again, Camelia moved with lightning speed. Throwing aside the blanket, she snatched her dress from where it lay pitifully on the floor and hurried into the bathroom.