Morro Novels & Stories

Anahita Waterwolf POV We waterwolves have resettled on the banks of the Dream River that runs through the place once known as the Barren. Though to use the word 'barren' in relation to this magnificent place feels ridiculous. Many mornings I sit on the balcony of the packhouse, before the pack stirs, gazing out at the churning, roiling, foaming waves of the river, its banks densely packed with rich, dark mud. The colours of the river at dawn--blue, mauve, purple, indigo, green--remind me of the lifestone and that night when the poison was driven out. The lifestone disappeared, it's work done. And Silvia's iron--the physical iron anyway--was also gone.

The club was blaring hard rock music. It smelled like sweat mixed with expensive cologne. And, it smelled, vaguely, like gunpowder. But maybe that was just in my head, considering the number of guns I was near these days. The name of the club was The Nostra. I thought it was weird, as it sounded like something related to the nose. Landon explained that it meant 'the thing' in Italian. Too much of Italian. I was surrounded by everything from that damn country. God.

Laughing hysterically for another feast they are taking, they hurriedly scattered themselves into the streets of the near-barren city. ❇❇❇ She couldn't believe what she was seeing. A seven-foot tall being, almost humanoid, was standing before her. His skin was green, and his body was built up like The Hulk, all muscular and weirdly contorted. The corners of his mouth went up to a smirk, showing his sharp, dirty canines inside. He was carrying a cell-like bag, and she could see some white orbs floating inside it. She gulped. "Luna, please calm down."

In exactly three minutes, they joined Henry in the car. Moments later, they arrived at Darik's hotel and suites. A very popular hotel in the state which had a five-star restaurant on the ground floor. The hotel also had branches in major states in America. Of course, Vee has heard of the restaurant and while working for the Matthews, she came to know that Darik was Laurel's long time boyfriend.

The night breeze fanned her skin when she alighted from the yatch and they made their way to a beach resort on the island of Haling Cove. The resort had been a fabulous exquisite looking glass house which seemed portable and classy at the same time. The interior decor was modern and screamed finesse, vibrant colors decked the walls of the house; something which Marcellus's mansion at Ocean city lacked. The expensive house looked like one of those houses on Bondi beach or the resorts on the Maldives.

First, we needed to get her home and safe. “Since when has that Asshat ever been helpful or given us any information?” I asked exasperated. The Alpha of the Margam territory, Jeremy Lewis was enough of a Bell end that he actually introduced himself the people as Alpha Jezz. Jezz? What the hell kind of grown man wants to be called the nickname he was clearly given by his high school rugby team?

he finished with a wink. A low growl came from Eli. "I didn't mean to offend you, Alpha Eli," Zach said with a smile. "Yes, there has been no harm done, Alpha Eli. Please contain your wolf. My son was simply just answering your Lunas questions. "I apologize. Please excuse me, I need to use the restroom." Eli stood. "Oh, but dessert is coming!" Luna Marigold said. "Let the poor man go take a piss, dear. He will be back."

The impact the association had on exchange all through the landmass was incomprehensibly extraordinary. Morante City, the city that persevered, the capital of opportunity. Initially, it was known as the Seaview Citadel. To recognize the extraordinary deeds of Forde Morante for battling off the Krissen Empire's intrusion, the name was changed to Morante City. To oblige for quick financial turn of events, the Forde Trade Union dispatched for 36 different regions to be worked external the fortification's dividers as well as another divider encompassing the recently constructed regions, partitioning the city into the external dividers and the internal dividers.

ODETTE I placed a daisy on Slash's grave and used the back of my hand to dry the wet which had collected beneath my eyes. Jericho had buried him at home in the garden. A massive rock served as a headstone with Slash's name engraved. Each day without Slash felt incomplete. When he died, he left a gaping hole in our hearts. I knew Jericho took it badly. He would wake up in the mornings, forgetting Slash was no longer around, and call out for him. Sometimes I would catch him retrieving Slash's leash to take him out for a walk only to realize he could no longer do that. The look of anguish which hijacked his face each time made the whole situation so much worse. I hated seeing Jericho in so much

Even knowing she was gone forever, my wolf searched. A few hours later, I headed back to camp. We had two small, deserted cabins, little more than shacks, left deserted after a hurricane hit the area a few years ago. Morris, The Moor, purchased thousands of acres of the uninhabited land. Those acres were surrounded by protected marshlands. It cost him a pretty penny, but money was no factor with him.