Novel & Cerita Morgana Trollhunters

So that’s what they did. We then ran to the trailer and by the time we got there, I saw Ace fighting off as many rogues as possible and there was a white wolf with it’s back to me. I growled and my warriors followed suit, to get their attention and the white wolf turned around to look at us. It had Morgan’s eyes. Was Morgan a white wolf? I could see that she was hurt really badly, so we ran past her and ran into the smaller pack of rogues here and the order to kill swiftly.

“Just off the top of my head? Waverly Hills, Trans Allegheny, Eastern State Pen. All of them worth a whole season, and one heck of a season finale. And not like they wouldn’t have let you guys shoot on any of them because you hadn’t booked the slot. I mean, c’mon, you’re the bleep -ing Haunters.” I rested my elbows on my legs, my hands together against my chest, looking ahead at the Quabbin. “But he came back to Blotter Manor,” I said, like thinking aloud. “And he did it only to help me and an entity that had almost killed him.” I narrowed my eyes with a mild frown. “Tell me about guts. Tell me about heart!” I shrugged again with a smile I was grateful he couldn’t see because, to me, it was

"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.

She was bloodied and badly wounded but Chloe could feel that she was still alive. The shadows didn’t hesitate. They lunged forward, moving like ghosts as they charged at the creature. The creature let out a enraged shriek that was so loud Chloe thought her eardrums might burst. But still, the wolves carried on, unaffected by the inhuman sound. Something about the shadows charging it down clearly unsettled the mysterious monster because it was off of its victim in an instant darting off into the forest without a trace. It’s time for you to go back, your majesty Another voice echoed through Chloe’s mind. You have been here too long.

asked a voice to the man. The sentence was greeted by another nod. “A possessor of holy blood has been born, Mrs. Bunga,” replied Magma. The room fell silent. “What?” whispered another voice, a little late. “What do you mean—?” “You heard what I said, Maro,” interrupted Mr. Magma calmly. “Are you sure?” Maro asked again. “Certainly. Our tracking witch, Miss Lindya, has found her. Miss Lindya's natural tracking sensor got some kind of signal. Is that right, miss?” Magma added to the woman to her left.

His eyes moved across the screen with the kind of focused attention that meant something had captured his interest. “You’re up early,” he said finally still not looking up. “Couldn’t sleep.” He set the tablet down and studied me. His gaze moved down my body, lingering on the breasts and hardened nipple that was because of the cold. His eyes darkened as he trailed down then back up. “What’s up with the tablet?” I asked to keep the attention away from me. “There’s been some rumors online about Morana Mortaine supposedly coming back. Some anonymous post about the heiress emerging after years of absence.” He turned the tablet toward me.

The door closed. Angry? Did I do anything wrong? Suddenly, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down. There was a dagger in my hand. Symbols began carving on the silver blade. And somehow, somewhere, I knew what they meant. “Marfóir Deamhan,” I whispered. The meaning came to me like a memory that was never mine. My voice cracked, as I translated the words. “Demon Slayer.”

It whines, crawling away. “Stop!” a cold voice cuts through the rain, sharp and mean. A woman steps out of the shadows, her dark hair messy, her eyes glowing a bit. It’s not Morgana—it’s Tara, Sasha’s old hunter boss, holding a shiny silver knife. “Tara,” Sasha growls, her voice hard, standing up, her knife ready. Her arm’s bleeding, but she’s steady. “You’re working with Morgana now?” Tara grins, her knife catching the neon light. “Morgana’s the real deal,” she says, her voice nasty. “She sees your boy, Sasha. His shard, his blood—she’s taking it all.”

She whisphered, smiling like a maniac. " Oh... If it can be stolen, it simply means it wasn't yours in the first place..." The Alpha King, seemingly oblivious to the tension, smiled at our interaction. Morgana downed her glass of wine before going back to her seat, her eyes burning through Damon. The Alpha King continued to speak after Morgana sat down, gesturing toward her. But the words were obviously meant as an introduction to me. “Morgana comes from a long line of healers and sorcerers. Her knowledge will be… beneficial to the pack.”

Lucian's shadows erupted, Kael screamed something unintelligible, warriors charged but it made no difference because Morgana wasn't just present. She was already at Trinity.