Morgiana Magi Novels & Stories

his voice trembled. “Aww,” Zoraya purred. “Let him go,” Lucian warned. “I’ll do whatever you want.” “Of course you would,” Zoraya smirked. The power radiating from her was intense. It felt as though every cell in her body pulsed with dark magic. All he had to do was cooperate, find her weakness, and save Ethan... Wait. Where’s Morgana? As if answering his unspoken question, the door opened, and one of those large, brutish rogues with glowing green eyes dragged Morgana in. The rogue bore the aura of an Alpha.

“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

The symbols pulsed brighter at her proximity, as if recognizing an old enemy. "Three Alphas. One mate. Her weakness is your doom or your salvation," she recited, the words echoing with power that made the walls themselves seem to tremble. "The girl without a wolf carries the magic of the first Luna, locked away and forgotten. When she awakens, kingdoms will fall... or rise." "Magic?" Darius snarled. "Witchcraft has no place in our world." "Foolish boy," Morgana snapped. "What do you think makes you shift? What is the moon called? Magic is the foundation of everything you are. And this girl..." She gestured to me with something that might have been reverence. "She carries the oldest magic of

"HA HA HA HA! Is this it? Is this my destiny? After everything I've went through, after everything I sacrificed, is this the end? Is this the karma for all the people that I've murdered? Is this the end of my journey you ******* Gods! Even if I die here, even if need to exchange my soul to the devil, I will still avenge my people . I will kill Merlin and the rest of the Kingdom!" The maiden was shocked after she heard the name Merlin. It was a name familiar to her, a name that is important for her, a name that is very important for her revenge. Merlin is actually related to Morgana the traitor of humanity. Morgana was originally the Sage of the Kingdom of Alvarez, she is Merlin's sister. But

The sigil of Magikal energy. The man whose steps were seen to have left traces of darkness which only vanished when Hilda glared at them called upon the name ; "Morgana." The goddess of magic turned over at the call of this being and walked towards him. The sigil of Magikal energy suddenly spread like dust thrown in the air just as Morgana desired. "Valac." Morgana called in a low tone as she walked towards him. "The girl…" "Why are you unable to strip her of her magic as a goddess which you are?"

“You answer the questions, and maybe your death will be quick instead of slow. That is all we are offering.” Elena looked between us, seeing no mercy, no escape. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Her name is Morgana,” she whispered. “Morgana the Black. She is a witch who serves the Council of Alphas.” “What Council?” I demanded. “There is no official Council in this region.”

Not all witches are powerful enough to be immortal or summon a demon for them to give you this, although many can use magic to keep themselves beautiful and young forever. I only knew two immortal witches because of their own power: Morgana, my main ally, and Magera, the second most powerful of the shadow ministry. Both were powerful enough to destroy the entire world if they wanted to, but Magera had not yet hunted me because magic had no effect on me, especially the kind of magic she often uses, illusion, fear, and torture.

Puppets carved from blood and bone. And at their center… Morganna. She didn’t ride. She glided. Feet never touching the earth, her robes billowing like smoke, her silver crown gleaming like ice. She looked almost human—beautiful, even. But that was the lie. Her power dragged behind her like a corpse. And her eyes—those cruel, gleaming eyes—found me across the battlefield and lit with pleasure. “Well,” she said, her voice somehow both soft and booming. “The little ember returns.”

I give her a charming smile, a glimmer of mischief in my gaze as I rise from my seat. "Prince Magnus... aren't you a delight? I expected something else... Oh, how silly of me!" She shakes her head as if she has committed some error, flashing me a wide grin. "I'm Morgana," she says, curtsying as she raises the back of her hand for me to kiss. I chuckle at the audacity. But the nature of witches is known. They like to be treated well; they expect to be pampered and peppered with compliments for their beauty—which is often nothing more than just an illusion.

His nose tested the air constantly, searching for the scent of enemies, of traps, of anything that did not belong. Caspian moved like a shadow at her other side, his ancient eyes watching for threats that Kael's senses might miss. He saw the world differently than the wolf did, noticing the subtle distortions of magic, the places where the air bent wrong, where light did not fall as it should. Morgana walked at the center of the army, conserving her strength for what was to come. She moved slowly, deliberately, her purple robes trailing behind her. Her ancient face was peaceful, almost serene, as if she had already accepted her fate and made peace with her choices.