Oblivion Elven Maiden Novels & Stories

Selene had been promised many things by her Alpha lover in the careful months of letters that had brought her to Ironbough, and the Alpha's wife is a sickly nothing had been the first and most important of those promises, and Selene had agreed to come to this festival on the strength of that promise, and Selene was looking now at the woman in the dirt and she was beginning, very slowly, to understand that she had been told the wrong story. The woman in the dirt was glowing. It was very faint. Selene could only see it because she was a Lycan and her eyes were sharper than human eyes and she was standing on the platform of the high table directly above where Elowen had fallen. The glow was com

The jagged rocks had smoothed into natural battlements, and the caves were no longer damp holes, but warm, torch-lit halls where the Pack finally slept without one eye open. At the highest point of the Black Notch sat a throne made of obsidian and silver-birch roots. **Elara** sat there, her violet eyes scanning the horizon, her cloak of shadows trailing behind her like a living storm. Beside her stood **Silas**. He didn't sit on a throne; he stood as the "Sentinel," his obsidian blades resting at his hips, his gaze sharp and calculating. He was the strategy to her power, the shadow to her light. Together, they weren't just the Luna and her mate—they were the **Sovereigns**.

The mating bite on his neck remained vivid, a living reminder of the bond that had saved the realm. A new presence had appeared in the city three nights ago — a mysterious young woman named Elara Voss, claiming descent from a forgotten branch of the First Kings. She was twenty-four, with striking violet eyes and an aura that resonated strangely with Caelan’s ancient power. She had requested a private audience, speaking of “unbalanced threads” that threatened to unravel the kingdom’s hard-won stability. Lucien entered the archives, his powerful frame still imposing even in middle age. His golden eyes immediately found Caelan, the bond between them as strong as ever.

"It wasn't like using Aether. Aether feels like pouring water from a well. The Void... It felt like opening a door to a room that has been empty for ten thousand years. It didn't give me power; it took away the world's rules." "It changed your eyes, Elowen, " Malachi said, his voice dropping to a rough register. He reached out his thumb gently tracing the rim of my eye socket. "They weren't violet. They were the dark between the stars. For a second when you caught that mallet I thought I had lost you to the entity in the trench." "You won't lose me " I said, leaning into his touch my heart skipping a beat against my ribs. "I am the contract Luna who survived the Iron-Claw. I don't let go of

“One in Yörd, one in Saint Rowe, two in Brisa, one in Listeria and… no way, one in the village? You never told me about it.” I was looking at the map trying to connect the red dots with the city names Jane was saying, until she reached the last one. She was not lying, there was a dot placed right at the center of the elven village. “It’s impossible. Other than Cedric’s candidates, Lada was the only child there with me. They would have noticed my behavior just like you did. There is no way another human was living that close the whole time.” “Well, I doubt I made a mistake performing the spell since it perfectly located us. It’s a shame I didn’t notice there was another impostor among the elv

Lucien hadn’t come this time—not because he feared the sea, but because Elira needed him at the capital to hunt for other infiltrators. Still, she felt the hollow ache of his absence like a phantom limb. The Isles finally came into view—five jagged rocks rising from the sea like claws, crowned with the crumbled remnants of once-proud stone towers. “Ruins of the Water Court,” the mage whispered. “This was their final refuge. And their grave.” Elira’s hand tightened on the ship’s rail. Somewhere below those crumbled towers lay the third relic: the Drowned Oath, a ring forged from moon-silver and enchanted pearl, once worn by the Moon Goddess’s most loyal general. It was said to bind truth to l

Her guilt is a mirror, her anchor’s taint a parallel to Voren’s sin. Before I can answer, the wastes tremble, a new rift tearing open, Voren’s voice a cosmic roar: Convergence, you cannot flee. A figure steps through—a shadow-wrought echo of Elara, her lunar mark glowing, her eyes hollow, wielding a blade of void. “Daughter,” she whispers, Voren’s puppet, “join me, or perish.”

She looked around and saw no one. Instead she came face to face to the street view. She held onto the bannister and lazily leaned on them as she gazed at the dark silhouettes in the night. Their apartment building is located in a secluded part of their town and on the far front is the Alterax woods. The trees lined up in front with some infested with fireflies making them look shimmering.

Offend her people or threaten her place, and that gentle river becomes a flash flood. Elanil, Elf Princess of Elarithwood — Old as twilight on ancient oaks, Elanil glides through the palace clad in moon-thread gowns, her golden eyes reflecting centuries of elven patience. She speaks in riddles that seem harmless until the answers topple kingdoms. Time itself appears to bend politely around her, and younger concubines sometimes forget to breathe when she turns her gaze upon them.

Elaine paced in frustration, “We don’t have time for this!” “Hey..” Andrew’s hand found her shoulder, “Breathe—we will get out of this.” Elaine shook his hand off, “Just put her on Ruby.” The girl doused the fire, the smoke melting into the night. ”Please.” Dawn would be upon them soon, and with it brought more men who were out to kill her. The thought brought the crumbled knight of midnight to her mind, and she tucked him away in a place reserved for very few, a little corner of her heart right next to Melanie.