Morgana Pendragon Novels & Stories

And then, Morgana herself joined the fight. For a woman her age, Morgana moved like a warrior. Trained. Deadly. Her eyes glowed with fanatical anger. “You’re too late, Detective!” she hissed, swinging at Leah. “The Architect’s empire cannot be touched!” Leah dodged the attack, countering with a strong kick that knocked Morgana back a step. But the older woman didn’t stay down, she reached into her boot and pulled out a sharp knife. Their fight became a brutal dance; blades flashing, fists flying, seconds bleeding away.

It was Morgana, her ethereal figure flickering but no less menacing. “You’ve delayed me long enough,” she said, her voice a venomous hiss. “The anchors, the Nexus, this realm—they all belong to me.” Valen stepped forward, his staff glowing with arcane energy. “You’re nothing but a shadow, Morgana. You can’t stop us.” Morgana’s laughter filled the cavern, cold and mocking. “A shadow? Perhaps. But even a shadow can consume the brightest light.” She raised a hand, and the shelves around the vault began to collapse, their contents bursting into dark flames.

Unless they wish to die a similar death or become so weakened, emotionally and physically, that death seems like a gift. How do I break this cycle? Do I have anyone left to support my cause other than Alistair and perhaps... Elara? Morgana was more than just a tool; she was a formidable ally, a master of blood magic, and a woman whose insights guided my hand in the shadowy dealings of court politics. Her demise isn't just a loss; it's a strategic setback, a gap in the fortress I have painstakingly built around my rule. But I didn’t believe she’d let herself be caught so easily. It seemed unlike her—the fear in her red eyes, the helpless screams. Was there nothing she could’ve done to protect

“Why are you so sure that I have a connection there, daddy, of all the many gods and goddesses throughout the history of this world that could possibly be my ancient ancestor, why her?” “Well,” he paused as they passed by the barricade, the two soldiers’ face shields tracking them, leaving Aislen with an impression of confused worry from the two men, as if they could not think of a reason to stop them, but weren’t entirely sure they were supposed to be permitting them to pass either. “Many reasons, Morgana. The name that you chose for yourself, first of all. Morgana. Morrigan. Morgan Le Fey and the Morrigan have long been entangled, rightly or wrongly, in legend. It would be too coincidental

’ His voice trailed off in anguish, ‘No brother, we had nothing, and you know it but won’t accept it. We could never beat Arthur, he was/is England's greatest King and he always will be. He is at peace now, sleeping because he has earned his rest but when he is needed he will return and save this green and pleasant land he loved so much. Killing the Hybrid will not change that, mating her will bring you nothing, she is not yours to mate with.’ Morgana stopped in front of him and lifted her hand taking the silver knife and placing it beside Aurora then she took Mordred's hands in hers,

She’s talking about our children. “Where are they?” Alistair demands, and his voice has gone flat and deadly in the way it does right before he kills someone. Morgana pulls a crystal from her robes and holds it up to the light. Inside I can see images like looking through a warped window, and my heart stops because there are our boys, all four of them unconscious and arranged in some kind of circle, and Anna’s newborn daughter is there too, her tiny chest barely rising and falling. “Safe for now,” Morgana says. “Though that will change at moonrise when I drain their life force and use their combined power to make myself immortal. Not the half-measure immortality that Kate achieved, but true

“They are the portals by which the gods touch this world and direct us as to their will. I believe that Morgana isn’t just any ordinary emissary, whose role is simply to continue the genetic lineage, but Morgana is The Emissary of the mother goddess, the moon goddess, the Morrigan, mother of war, fate, and fertility, of wolves and ravens, shapeshifter, and escort of the dead.” “Look around you,” Aaron said with fervency. “We are in a time of war, between the supernatural and humankind, with werewolves and f-king zombies. And she’s pregnant again,” he gestured to Aislen triumphantly. “She was born in the year of the Griffin, maiden born in crone, on the day of Ash. Thanks to your f-king pack

He has his father’s calm gaze and my stubborn heart; a perfect blend of everything Gregory and I once feared we could never have. King Halrion dotes on him endlessly. Sometimes I catch him watching Kamsey play, eyes glistening, as though he’s found redemption for all that was lost before us. Morgana didn’t last more than three years in the coldest dungeon of Matica. The isolation and bitter cold slowly consumed her until a heart attack ended her life. She was buried without honor and without ceremony, like a commoner. The very fate she had spent her life committing countless atrocities to escape.

I gestured licking my lips “Morgana I’m warning you!” “Jeez, should I be afraid? My stepson is warning me. Now listen Micheal let me make something clear to you, six months ago you cheated on Morgana, five years of Morgana’s life you wasted it, you called Morgana a toy you used in blowing off steam, you tricked Morgana and rendered her useless, and finally you killed and buried Morgana. So get it into that empty head of yours that the Morgana you used to know is long dead and gone, the Morgana standing before you right now is a reborn of your wickedness, and mark my words this is just the beginning, I advise you get

She was more nervous than usual, which she attributed to Arthur's presence. The lights in the club were turned off and the screen was turned on. A woman with long black hair down to her waist, olive skin, and natural makeup appeared on the screen. She was dressed only in a dark robe that made it seem as if she was wearing nothing else. Only a necklace with the large pendant of a bow adorned her neck. It was not only sensuality that was present in her, but elegance as well. And that was really what Morgana's message was. The simple could be elegant as well.