Morgana Pendragon Novels & Stories

Ruby went to Rel's side as he maintains control over the shadow creatures. Morgon hissed in anger. He couldn't believe that this brat could muster up enough power to actually open up a portal to the Inferno. He couldn't return to Neherra empty-handed and failed in both missions so he will ensure something before he goes: the death of the Pendragon girl.

Dad says, looking for Morwenna, who is approaching the dais with Niko. “I hope she is, because if I am not given what I was promised…” he leaves his threat hanging. “We will keep our side of the promise,” Mom says, as Dad places a hand on her arm to calm her. “I am Morgana, Queen of Clair De Lune.” Mom says, holding out her hand. Agnarr arches a brow as his eyes rake over Mom, but he does not take her offered hand. “The Vampire Princess who brought peace to this kingdom and the Sanguine Empire. I heard you were once nothing more than a slave.”

There's something calculating and dangerous in her divine gaze that makes even Morgana shift uncomfortably under the weight of that supernatural attention. Damon has already recovered slightly from his ordeal, and he lifts up his head to take in the strange image of Morgana and Serena standing approximately six feet apart, gazing at each other with a peculiar kind of recognition that makes his heart lurch painfully in his chest. He finds himself still trying to understand exactly what is happening in this surreal situation when Morgana slowly begins making her way toward Serena with reverent steps. "I always knew that this momentous occasion was coming," Morgana continues, her voice thick wi

"Why are you really helping us? Not because of some abstract belief in love. Something else." Morgana was quiet for a long moment. The wind stirred her hair. The sun moved behind a cloud. "Because I loved her once. My daughter. Before the darkness took her. Before she became what she is." Her voice cracked, just slightly, just enough for Lena to hear the centuries of grief beneath. "Maybe helping you stop her is the only way I can honor that love. Maybe it is the only way I can apologize for all the things I did not do, all the ways I failed her, all the moments I looked away." ---

“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.

Morgana said. I laughed. “She is wasting her time.” The poison was Morgana’s work. Its base was my blood. There’s no antidote without my blood. “She would need a miracle from the Moon Goddess herself to create the antidote without your blood,” Morgana said smugly. “Are the mad rogues ready?” I asked. “It will be best to attack while they are still recovering.” Morgana didn’t answer right away. I poured myself another glass, giving her time to respond. When she still didn’t speak, I said, “Answer the question, Morgana. You know I don’t like repeating myself.”

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.

"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

The servant scrambled away. Morgana’s name alone carried weight. Her father had been Zarreth’s closest ally, and she had been Lucian’s shadow since childhood, his best friend, his confidant, and the only one who knew the darkness he carried inside. Lucian trusted her more than anyone alive. The doors swung open. Morgana entered, her long black hair swaying behind her, her presence commanding the room. She had spent her entire life honing her body and blade, becoming a warrior feared and respected by all.

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."