Ominis Hogwarts Legacy Novels & Stories

“The Archer Legacy was passed down to me. I am the prophesized Slayer.” It was silent. Her eyes swept around waiting for the first lycan to react. When the reactions erupt, the numbness and pain shot through her and she could not breathe to utter a response to the series of questions. No, all she could see was Theodavian rising to his feet and making his way out of the Great Hall.

Suddenly, I'm imagining him using it on me. A ping snaps me back to reality. It’s him of course. I know you’re reading my message Minnie mouse. Do it immediately. With yoghurt too. So I turn around immediately because going upstairs means not wanting to come back down. Fuck this man really. I'm almost like a personal slave. It’s easier to get what I need this time though, because I already know exactly where to look. Forty five minutes later, I am standing in front of the heavy mahogany doors of his penthouse, and I am seriously considering just leaving the bag of dumplings on the floor and running away.

Audrey said. "Sure, you guys have a good night ! Let me know if you require anything. Actually I've just met my college friend, Kenji, a photographer, who happens to be married with my dear friend Dr. Isabelle, so I'll spend some more time here and then leave," Calvin Hughes informed. "Great ! You catch up with them. Seems like a college reunion is going on. Many college sweethearts are having surprise encounters," said Audrey with a wink while looking at Rachel.

King Barakar commended pursing his lips as he let out a smile. "Well, I wasn't the social type, so I read a lot in my solitude," I explained. The King just nodded his head. "The coliseum is King Jorin's only legacy - a legacy of blood," he added. "But it has also showcased the potential of the people, both humans and mages, and werewolves alike. In the coliseum, all are equal, and only differentiated by their strength," lord Caden chipped in. "That's true," King Barakar shrugged.

My name is Elora and I reside at the Blue Mountain Packhouse. I have a slim figure, long curly blonde hair which I usually wear up in a bun so it is out of my face. My eyes are a deep blue which I love. I am not a normal girl though. You see I am a shewolf, my rank at the packhouse is an omega. I don’t know my parents because they passed away when I was just a tiny baby, so I don’t have any memories of them. The only thing I have is a necklace locket from my mother. I have never taken it off because it makes me feel close to her spirit.

The first time Lyra escaped the phrontistery at Crescent Pack shealmost got lost. A phrontistery was a place where high ranked young werewolves schooled. There was only seven phrontistery in the world. One located in each continent. Lyra’s pack, the Moonstone pack, was situated in West Virginia, United States, North America. The Crescent Pack was the pack in North America that had a phrontistery. It was located in New York, United States, North America.

Her scent is a heavy cinnamon musk---alpha. "Looks like meat," says a male in wolf form standing behind her---massive. A human voice pours out of a mouth of crooked, pointy teeth and thick saliva. A fat tongue slides out of his mouth, spewing hot spit onto the floor. His eyes stay focused on me as he hugs the wolfed female slightly above her waist.

Levy knew that she was asking for her hand which was why she handed it without much thought just as Carla said to Levy, “ There have been many few offspring of the guardians who left a mark in the history of the witches and magic, one of those was Minerva, interestingly enough, she did not leave a mark for doing anything good despite being born as a white witch.” Once Levy’s hand was caught firmly by Carla the latter held her hand tightly with her cold one, as she picked up a needle causing Levy to exhale a breath as she prepared herself to be pricked by it.

But he wasn’t entirely wrong with his questions, I wanted to know who the Moonborn is. I grabbed a marker from the desk, my hands trembling, and stormed to the whiteboard I’d set up in the corner, its surface scrawled with notes from weeks of fruitless searching. I wrote her name—Isabella Hart—in sharp, black letters, my heart racing. Below it, I jotted Sebastian Wolfe, then Caleb Reed, connecting us with jagged lines.

POV Gianna: We’ve interrogated the “minions” for days and all of them are saying the same thing. They were on their packs grounds, guarding their borders and the next thing they knew they were waking up on our pack grounds. I used my truth inducement on them, and they are all telling the truth. “Do you think we can get in touch with a harem and see if they have had a spell cast on them?” “I don’t see why not, we can reach out to the Enchantment harem, they have only white witches.” Aaron says.