Outcast Star Wars Novels & Stories

On the other side lay the wasteland Fenris had created through his own hubris—a landscape of gray dust and skeletal branches that rattled like teeth in the wind. I stood at the center of the bridge that spanned the Dividing River. The water below was black and sluggish on the Silver Crest side, but as it flowed beneath my feet, it sparkled with the iridescent clarity of Kaelen’s alchemy. Behind me stood my legion. They were no longer the gaunt, trembling refugees who had crawled into my ravine. They were the Vanguard of the Outcasts. Dressed in boiled leather and shadow-fur, their eyes held a terrifyingly calm light. They didn't growl or snap; they stood with the disciplined silence of those

He was willing to do whatever it took to secure his place in the world, even if it meant betraying his own people. I knew better than to intervene in their fight. Their clash was personal, and nothing I said or did would change the outcome. But it gave me an opening—an opportunity to escape, to regroup, and to plan my next move. The rogues were still pressing their attack, and Oswald, ever the protector, was on the front lines, rallying our warriors. But even he seemed overwhelmed by the sheer strength of the rogues’ enhanced abilities, thanks to the potion Iris had provided them.

BUSHWIND TOWN 21:30PM Elita slowly walks around the forest confidently prepared for anything. “You don’t like to listen to orders” The familiar mysterious voice speaks walking out the corner of one tree “i don’t like to follow rules” I say turning around and facing the man Infront of me

Remaining hidden within the tree line, I watched Soren standing motionless at the lake’s edge with his gaze fixed on the dark water. The fading sunlight and rising moonlight painted silver reflections across the surface, illuminating a man who looked nothing like the proud heir of Ravencrest I had expected to find. Gone was the arrogance that had once defined him. Instead, he wore the hollow expression of someone carrying the weight of losses he could neither escape nor undo.

I'd tried to erase the image, to bury it somewhere deep in my mind… but it only got worse. Because it didn't end there. Every night since, he brought a different woman home. Every. Single. Night. And everyone in the Pack House knew. The truth spread like wildfire, feeding on whispers and sideways glances. Now, my shame had a name, Outcast Luna. It was no longer a secret. It was my identity. Still, I clung to a sliver of hope, praying my father would step in. That he'd finally care. But instead of showing up himself, he sent my older brother.

‘Please tell me you got the job done,’ I requested. ‘The target, Warrior Alvin of the Orestone Pack, has been taken out.’ I internally sang as soon as I heard that. ‘I’ve gotten rid of his tongue and left him broken deep in the woods as requested. Even with his fast healing, he won’t be able to live for long.’

“The sins of the parents would be on the child. What form would I take. A ghosty form ha ha. Can’t wait for the battlefield. We’re ain’t after the elections but after lives. We’ll make sure he doesn’t win and then kill him.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and sips the bottle of beer in front of him. His right was patch. He wore a singlet which show off his tattooed covered skin. His hair was sprayed white. There was a scar on his left cheek. And a missing tooth. He was Savage savaged.

Five years ago, Alpha Ethan rejected me for my curves and my pack ranking. I built a new life and a thriving business. Now, my brother is dying, and the only thing that can save him is a healer I can't afford. Ethan comes with a desperate deal: to carry his heir, and he pays for the cure. I signed the contract with just a deal in mind. To keep me safe during a brutal territory war, I’m hidden away at the Iron Vipers compound, under the personal protection of Jax Mercer. Jax is a half-breed outlaw president known to be brutal and uninterested. Now, as the stakes are raised I’m placed between two men who don’t take no for an answer.

He laughed, the sound making my insides feel a tad weird but in a way it felt nice. "I was clearly busy at the time," I began, my hand indicating my room and the apartment before us. "So there was no time to ask questions on whether anyone resided here, spirit wise that is." I gave a small grin. "Plus I didn't know what to say." "Based upon my observation you," Jem said with a light chuckle. "Cora," he said, brushing his fingers across my cheek. His touch was cool and still semi-solid. "Didn't you have any loyal friends to rely on growing up?" I shook my head to tell him no because in some way I always remained the outcast of anyone that I befriended. A loner who believed that trusting other

"Put him in a death stasis using Cassian's magic. She was going to let the spell lock permanently. Keep him trapped forever while she opened the Lycan Vault." "The vault is a myth." "No, it's not." A new voice from the doorway. Everyone turned. A scarred warrior stood there, his face covered in old claw marks. Behind him, fifteen more wolves. "Who are you?" Jetstar demanded. "Dax. From the Outcast Lands." The warrior stepped inside. "And these are wolves you exiled over the past three years. Every single one of us was banished because we refused Arlene's orders. Orders she gave through Damoew while he was under compulsion."