Mythical Satyr Novels & Stories

Although I said I understand nothing, it was because what she told was completely different from what I saw. The main character of the story, Sator, wasn’t a mortal, but an archon and a compelling god. He wandered the celestias or universes he created with his immortal comrades but . . . a tragedy struck in the abode of the deities named Procyron. Sator was part of Procyron’s council, a group of eight gods ruling the abode of deities and celestias. The council . . . that was supposed to be divine and perfect was cursed and it led the eight gods to suffer from sins.

Satan clutched a fistful of his silky hair from either side and roared like a wolf under the full moon. "Because you are not as strong as me- your father. Your wife is using the pity card on you just like your mother. That lady, Brianna or whatever, has more in common with your mother. My son, open your eyes before it's too late to cry over it. Don't make the same mistake as your dad." Another voice in Satan's mind helped him to see things. What an irony! After seeing the things, he still believes in his fictional character created by men and non-other.

“This, dear Emma, is Kaliratri’s Embrace. A sacred chamber, inspired by the night of the goddess herself. Here, creatures of myth come to feed, fuck, and fight.” Below, an Asura—a hulking demon with molten skin and four arms—was being ridden by a Maenad, her wild hair lashing about as she screamed in ecstasy and madness. On the next platform, a golden Satyr lapped at the feet of a six-breasted Yakshini, her laughter hypnotic and sweet. Emma blinked. “Are those…?” “Greek and Hindu creatures, yes,” Terra smirked. “This is Grimkeeper. All myth is real here, and all hunger has a place.”

“Those aren’t Drifters, Henry.” “Those are witches.” Henry Witches usually didn’t get along with our kind. I heard a commotion at the other end of the cave and rushed to see what was happening. The satyr and his daughter. “Names—now..” “Atticus, this is Ann,” the satyr told him, out of his trance, “Witches are coming.” “And what is it a concern of yours? Is it Devin?” Before he could answer, I realized that this was going to be a big battle.

I leaned against the bar, crossing my arms, and decided to give him a real answer, not just a tavern-keeper's deflection. "You're thinking about them all wrong," I said, my voice low and serious. "You're thinking like a soldier, like an Olympian. You see a map with roads and borders. Satyrs don't see that." I pushed off the bar and began to pace slowly in the small space behind it, the worn floorboards familiar under my feet. "They travel differently. They don't march in formation down paved roads. They follow the old paths, the ones that run with the rivers and wind through the oldest forests. The land itself is their map."

A strange-looking man, with horns on the top of his head, eyes of a feline, and whiskers, is next to the opened door. “Sebastian, this is Vladimir. He will be our guess for a while. Install him in one of the guest rooms and show him around here. I have to talk to the others members. See you later, Vladimir.” “Follow me,” Sebastian says. He starts walking, and I follow. I try to guess what he is when he stops and looks at me. “Satyr and mountain lion,” he says. “What?” I ask, confused. “In case you are wondering what I am. My father is a satyr, while my mother was a mountain lion. I don’t quite blend in with either satyrs or mountain lions. The Council was kind enough to offer me a permanent

The satyrs's lips tipped up slightly, revealing its sharp teeth—a triumphant gleam in his obsidian eyes. "I can tell you if you give me something in return." He said, stepping closer to the cage. "Name your price," I said through gritted teeth. "A taste of your blood, I won't need much."Satyrs were notorious for being able to con their way into people's memories. All they needed was a taste of blood, and they could see into your mind, see your deepest darkest secrets, your truths. It was a dangerous price to pay, but depending on the amount of blood and the strength of their ability, they might not be able to see too much. But no matter the cost, I needed to know if she was okay. It was eati

The hisses from the snakes and the loud goat neigh from the satyr had me nervously chuckling. “Not you,” the Minotaur boomed. “Silas found out what mates were and once we are allowed to go to the surface, we will find ours!” The satyr said hurriedly. The Minotaur said he was friendly, but he looked absolutely terrifying. Those poor women had to be mated to these monsters. “Come now, we are celebrating. Why don’t you join us?” I gulped as the Satyr pulled my hand. “I’m Rhos,” he gave a fanged smile.

“Mate, brave. Lycan heals, mate.” He said, then proceeded to lick my cuts and bruises. I looked back at the flaming woman and she narrowed her eyes at me and snarled at the ugly monster. She moved quickly and did something to the five cloaked figures that made them vanish, then turned to the stunned monster. “You will take your shadows and leave my mistress or I will kill you all, satyr.” The satyr snarled at her and flexed his claws without attacking or even taking a move toward her.

Not used to seeing that, she stepped back to find another stranger appearing near Gunther and Silas. "It is hard to court your Majesty when you disappear so suddenly." A chill slid down her spine at the vicious voice of the stranger. "You agreed to see me, then darted away. What other reason could you have but to want me to give chase?" It was another shock. A Satyr existed in this world? What else was there? The pointed horns on his head curled around human-like ears. Though he wore no clothes, his fur concealed his nudity, and even under all the dark hair, she could tell he was fit. Green eyes peeked through windblown black hair and her heart pounded hard in her chest. Why was this world s