Odin's Table Novels & Stories

Odin. The massive black wolf stood before her, fur bristling, his golden eyes burning with a fury that was not remotely human. He was every nightmare and every salvation in one, a living weapon of rage and devotion. He filled the chamber with his presence, his snarl rattling the very air. From beyond the heavy walls came the sounds of hell unleashed, screams, steel clashing, claws tearing, the thunder of battle crashing through the castle. The war had begun. Lucien rose from the ground, his perfect face smeared with black blood, his eyes glowing with murderous hunger. He bared his fangs and lunged, speed blurring him into nothing but shadow. But somehow Odin was faster.

The princess then covered half of her figure with the duvet Odin brought her, hugging her knees as she was seated near the bonfire, before giving the alpha an expectant look. “I’m ready. You can tell me everything now.” Odin subtly heaved a sigh and sat on the opposite side of the bonfire, fronting Raini with only the blazing fire separating them. “Where do you want me to start?” “Who ordered you to kill me?” Raini knew she might not get an answer to that question given that Odin looked like he belongs to the betas and their rank is usually those who protect and serve directly to their pack’s alpha and luna. However, she still tried and as expected, Odin answered her differently.

His mouth watering so much it dripped from his chin while he waited impatiently for his turn to have her. Odins hands smoothed over the soft supple skin of her ass while he slowly jerked his hips forth her moaning whimpers made him want a fuck the shit outta her, but he knew he could really hurt her if he were to turn lose on his sweet little delicate human mate. He hoped that she would go through with letting them change her. But if not he would still love and protect her always. He could feel his ending. His movements were becoming staggered as his legs jerked with the impending climax. Odin howled out in pleasure as he pulled himself from her body before he knotted. He slid his hefty phal

As the door swung open and they walked in, she found herself pulling away from Cruz and Belkin, needing desperately to at least appear stronger than she truly was. Odin was sitting in a wheelchair, his hands and feet strapped in. He appeared gaunt, purplish-blue shadows under his red-rimmed eyes and his skin was still showing signs of the sunburn he’d gotten when he’d been left on the deck of the ship for nearly two full days. His eyes snapped to hers as she entered and he swallowed, “Presley.” “Odin.” Her voice was strong, cool and her chin lifted as she felt a stream of strength flow along her veins.

"Because of the bird heads ?" "Yes, Hugin and Munin, his ravens. The spear Gungner, who always hits his target, is typically what characterizes him, just like the hammer does to Thor”. Erik points to the illustration. “I have heard of a recent study in Stockholm’s research laboratory that has scanned the matrix. It turns out that after creating the image, they subsequently have removed one eye on the sword dancer. It should in all probability prove that it is Odin". "Odin sacrificed his eye to Mimer's well to become as clever as the giant". I say.

“No introductions. You know who I am. I know why you’re here.” He turned, picked up a small wooden box from the desk, and opened it. Inside were feathers. Plain. White. Unremarkable. A ripple of confusion moved through the room. “Magic,” Odin said, “..is not light. It is not fire. It is not spectacle.” His gaze flicked toward the box. “It is conversion.” He picked up a feather between two fingers. It trembled slightly, responding to something unseen. “For wolves,” he went on, “..magic begins where instinct ends. You produce pheromones to communicate dominance, submission, attraction, territory.” His eyes sharpened. “Today, you will convert that biological output into arcane intent.”

Unless. I shot to my feet, feeling my blood boil in anger as I considered the possibility of her running away. Her scent still lingered in the air, but it was getting fainter as seconds passed by. “You don't think she ran because I scolded her, right? What kind of wolf is she?” Odin opened its eyes and gave me a look I knew so well. It was the second-strongest wolf apart from Saint and one of the unfeeling creatures I had ever encountered.

I recalled tales of a dark witch clan known as Odin. "Yes, they're known for dark powers," I responded. "That's a misconception. The Odin witch clan possesses dark and light elements, making them one of the strongest. Both you and your mother carry this bloodline," Venica clarified. "But I can only sense my wolf energies, not any magic," I countered, slightly exasperated. Venica sighed.

Odin asked, out of astonishment. She gave a smile back to him in response. “ I recognized by your smell. It’s enough for me to know you.” August heaved a sigh and stepped forward. “I’m impressed by your sense of smell. It can equal up to the one of an Alpha much easily.” “Don’t you agree?” August asked Odin. Odin nodded in response. “ I can’t disagree. For real her sense of smell is better than mine. Is this because she doesn’t have her vision perhaps?”.

“Dracula pays his respect to the Allfather, Odin – King of Asgard,” Dracula bowed slightly in relief when he confirmed the one inside the light pillar was indeed Odin. The man was wearing a long, black robe that concealed everything – from his golden armor to his brilliant yellow hair – but his golden eye and the ravens upon his shoulders. The staff within Odin’s hand contained so much power that Dracula shook from being in such close proximity with it, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by the Allfather.