Novel & Cerita Morgana Trollhunters

TW-RAPE (not a scene just a mention) “The Black Hunter strikes us once yet again leaving a gruesome mess in the house of the murdered. Despite being a messy murderer, not a trace of DNA can be found. Careful. Whoever he is, what does he want and why has he targeted these specific targets?”

I feel my heart thundering berserkly in my chest at the memory of her face morphing and twisting in fury, the baby blue turned blood-red eyes, and the sinister expression that told me she was ready to killl in a blink of an eye. "Vampire." Hunter blurts. Again, as if he knows exactly what's running in my head every damn minute, in every fucking second. And he's not even looking at me! How on earth does he do that? "Scarlet Tate is the only hybrid werewolf in the Wintermist Pack. She's the Alpha's daughter, so you better not underestimate her or you'll be dead before graduation." He warns. I look up and stare at his devilishly handsome face, his amber eyes cold and serious.

She furiously gaze into his eyes. "What are you doing?" She asked, but Drake was stunned by something. "Wait! I could have sworn your eyes were Golden with some sort of slit a while ago." Drake said. Morgana's heart skipped. How is this possible? She thought, afraid she's at the risk of being exposed and perhaps, the human realm would want to banish her as well. Where would she go after? It's just less than three years left, why does this man has to show up?

As if she was trying to stroke a wild animal. This reminded Cat that she had apparently lost her temper outwardly as well. The panic had to be written on her face. What if she was like the masked stranger? What if they are one of those…. whatever possessed without her knowing it? Had the woman come to pursue Cat as a co-conspirator of her opponents? "And who are your enemies?" She asked eagerly and carefully peered out from under the pony. “They are hegeduns. This is what we call an organization of elevenders who rule the world and want to enslave people. "

​Morgana stood up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the stone floor. ​"Are you losing your mind, Lucan?" she demanded, gesturing wildly at Zara. "A mate? Now? She is a disgraced traitor from the enemy pack! Look at her—she’s probably using a glamour or some back-alley Bloodclaw potion to manipulate your senses."

For Scarlett to be bold enough to mention it, I know she has something up her sleeve. As much as I loathe the woman, she’s the daughter of an alpha for a reason. I’ve heard rumours of her being involved in dark arts. While that has been disproved, I'm not taking any chances with Morgana. “Fuck.” I need her. My wolf needs her. She’s right down this hall, a few feet away. I need Morgana. She tried to kill me. I need her. She’s working with Ryker. I need her. She killed me once.

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.

He growled in my face almost animalistic. I looked away. He threw the bag of food and water in front of me on the bed. “Eat, drink, and then we will play again.” “I’m not being drugged again.” “Drink or I will force you.” I shook my head and threw the bottle against the wall and watched as it burst open, and the water pooled onto the floor. I watched his expression change as anger filled him. He grabbed me around my throat, and I clawed and scratched as much as I could at him but before long, I could feel myself blacking out.

The wind above the dungeon didn’t help my wounds at all, I covered myself with an item of clothing used by the one I strangled. I found an old hut inside Domlur and decided to go in to treat my wounds and to find an exit to this place. I sat on the ground and ripped my sleeves and tried to stop the bleeding by lightly tapping the cloth against my scraped flesh. Come to think of it, I’ve seen a lot of male werewolves but not female werewolves. I am into hunting for so long but I have never once hunted a woman. I tried to look outside; it may seem like a normal day with people walking around but this is all a façade.

The wolves assembled around Betta Jack, their faces carved with a blend of fear and assurance. "Morgana is lively," Beta Jack reported, his voice terrible. "She is coming for us." A collective wheeze emerged from the pack. The title Morgana was synonymous with disloyalty and haziness, a chilling update of the torment and enduring she had delivered upon them. "But how?" one of the warriors addressed, his voice filled with skepticism. "We saw her drop. She was crushed." Beta Jack handed-off Aveline's message, clarifying Morgana's shadow trap and her organization together with the undermined rebels. The news was met with a blend of outrage and fear.