Necromancer Oc Novels & Stories

“Then that tramp will have the pleasure of explaining herself.” Nico leaned back in his chair, watching the fire in Nero’s gaze. The demon was back and out for blood. That same old ruthless certainty burned there. It was the look of a man who’d kill anyone or anything that tried to move his pieces off his gameboard. Nero’s gameboard. “Tonight, then,” Nico said finally. Nero nodded once. “Tonight.”

"I destroyed everything. Dad's gone because I wasn't there. Emma's leaving because I chose you over her again and again." "But Ethan—" "No, Victoria. I can't keep taking from her. I've taken three years of her life, her youth, her devotion. I've taken her healing abilities to save my father and restore my wolf. What more can I possibly steal from her?" Owe? I looked down at the urn in my arms and suddenly found it laughable. Three years of youth, three years of sleepless nights caring for his comatose father, three years of rebuilding his pack from ruins—and all I got in return was the word "owe."

💉Tiara p.o.v 💉 It's time for the first prey to be sacrificed. I took off my bracelet and turn to half a bat and half of my vampiress's face, and disappeared into the thin air. I got to his house and decided to play some tricks on him, I started changing the light in his sitting room to different colours. I can see how scary he was, I used my necromancy power to break his plates and anything breakable in his kitchen at least he will die today, even when I finish draining his blood I will still demolish his apartment so as not to leave any traces for investigation.

Blood coats my knuckles, the sight of it almost as sobering as the feel of his bones breaking beneath my fists. And then, in one final act, driven by the deep-seated anger, I reach into Cezar’s chest, my claws sinking deep, and with a ruthless tug, I pull out his heart. The blood rushes to my head as I watch the life leaving his eyes, but I still feel hungry for vengeance. I listen as Orion swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper. “Nero... what did you see?”

Their mouths gaped, sewn shut with thread that glowed faintly, trapping centuries of screams. They had once been warriors. Wolves. Mages. Leaders. Banished, betrayed, erased. Now, they belonged to me. A figure emerged from the skeletal trees. He was tall, draped in rotting velvet that reeked of earth and decay. His face was hidden by a jagged mask fashioned from bone. The Necromancer. “You summoned me,” he rasped, his voice grating like stone on stone. “You know the price.” I rose to my feet, my shadow stretching across the poisoned earth in ways no living thing’s should. “I’ve already paid.”

My Omerian is more powerful than any ever prophesied. “I am the giver and taker of life!” Thunderclaps the sky again. The Elders are watching Anja, and Elder Manson’s eyes widen. It cannot be true that Anja can give and take life in the way I’m assuming she means. She is not a necromancer – I hope. ‘She could be a necromancer, Orrin.’ ‘There aren’t many of those alive, Alarick! My father outlawed them years ago.’ ‘Anja doesn’t know that, does she? And who’s to say that she isn’t a necromancer?’

I barely make a sound but just to be sure, I also activated a spell that will ensure he won’t be able to smell or sense me. At the bottom of the grand staircase, he turns right, toward the old museum annex I’d once helped design. It’s filled with relics and curiosities: swords, banners, magical artifacts, even a petrified lycan’s paw. But he doesn’t seem interested in any of those. Instead, he kneels on a display rug and removes it, showing a thick, iron-banded trapdoor that leads to the basement. He then unlocks it with a key hanging from his necklace.

Amara said. Nicolas haven't thought about this before. But now that she bought it up, he knew that she should do something by herself. He was more than ok with providing for her. He has been providing for lots of pack members as well but her thing was different. The pack members he has been providing for are too small. They can't work on their own and he doesn't want to put pressure on their parents. Plus, he has been only earning since now. He really doesn't have anywhere else to spend them.

Marcus, the quiet guy from accounting leaned against the door, arms crossed, with a bitter smirk twisting his lips. “McAllen,” he said. “You’ve been looking real happy lately. I see you enjoy your late night with the boss.” My stomach dropped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, I could see the jealousy in his eyes. “ I saw you leaving the private elevator. Looking like a man whose ass has taken some cock. You’re not the first, you know. The Ghost destroys anyone who tries to get close. You’re just the latest toy.” “The Ghost?” I laughed it off, but my voice sounded shaky even to me. “Sounds like some movie legend bullshit.”

I rebuke. Her eyes grey bright orange with my remark, and I swear just for a moment her nails grew longer and horns began to form on either side of her head. But she seemed to calm herself and her body returned to its normal state as of nothing had happened. She stood eyes closed breathing deeply. When she opened them again, her brown eyes stared back at me. “Tormund?” She called to her bodyguard, her eyes never leaving my face. No other words were spoken between them, it was as if their conversation was spoken telepathically. He stalked forwards, not stopping to look at Angelique, his eyes were set on me. I stumble backwards, my back hit against a hard, cold surface. He was getting nearer.