Owly Novel Series Novels & Stories

"Olivia?" I flashed a surprised look as I took a few steps forward. I deliberately stumbled on the steps, and the notebook in my hand fell onto the floor. Olivia panicked when she saw the draft of my novel in the wide-open notebook. "Oops! My notebook! That's the draft of a novel I wrote back then. I heard that werewolf novels have been getting popular recently. This time, I plan to compile the draft and publish it." I bent over to pick up the notebook.

“You’re so annoying and completely full of yourself.” “Mm,” he drawls, pushing up on his elbows, the movement making his chest flex beneath his shirt. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just full of you. Every thought, every breath...you should be flattered little Luna, you’ve already taken up all the space in me, and I know a lot of girls that are dying to be in your shoes.” "I can think of one," Isla murmurs. Heat pools in my stomach, and I throw another jab to cover it. “You and your ridiculous titles. I have a name, you know? It's Olivia, not Luna. I wonder if you wolves hear yourself sometimes. Luna this, Alpha that. It’s obnoxious.”

I complained. Olivia didn't know about the crow as it became invincible when she returned, and surprisingly, the book closed on its own, so when she got back it was just normal, like nothing had happened. I knew she knew I was a witch, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her about the crow.

“Our history, how we started our path. That book is a grimoire, a spell book if you will. It holds every spell, curse, potion or summons that the Owens witches knew.” Ivy looked at the page then back at her aunt her eyes narrowed. “Owens? But you, Lucile and mum are all Joneses. Why is Owens so important?” She asked with irritation. Standing back from the book and her aunt. Ivy folded her arms across her chest. Watching her aunts face carefully watching her expressions, assessing everything her aunt did from now on.

Olivia Rawles. A 20 year old woman who is still looking for directions in her life. At a relatively young age, Olivia is forced to feel the bitterness of a flow of life. Olivia was the subject of gossip wherever she was. Nobody even cared about her, just because Olivia was already an orphan. The love of parents has disappeared, eaten by the termites of time, the happiness that he always hopes for is always eroded by scolding and abuse. Tonight, such a busy night. The highway is full of fast track by motorized vehicles. Hysterical shouts from all over the place, especially on the sidewalks. Olivia is enjoying the city noise by humming softly at a roadside stop.

Oliver sneered, shaking his head ignoring my sperm donor, and his outburst on the other side of the room. “You invited her!” he demands, fighting for control of his wolf, as his eyes flicker between the beast and human. “Mum said ‘Family is invited’, Narissa is more family than you, right now, so here she is.” Oliver snapped back. His own hackles rising. His fists ball up next to him. A low growl roars across the room. I tighten my arms around Sophia as she starts to shake in fear as everything around us unravels. “Do you know how delicate this situation is?” He screams at Oliver. “She could take the pack, she can take your title, she is the first born, she is entitled to everything that is

At the far end of the Den, a small alcove housed the one wolf I’d come to see: Maelis. She was an elder, though her sharp gaze and quick movements suggested she’d lost none of her edge with age. Her hair, streaked with silver, framed a face lined with the weight of too many secrets. “You’ve been busy,” she said as I approached, her voice carrying the faintest hint of amusement. “How much do you know?” I asked, not bothering with pleasantries. Her smile widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know the great Alaric is dead. I know the packs are already choosing sides. And I know you’ve stumbled into something far bigger than yourself.”

He smirked and leaned back on the chair, “A bit small for the ruler of the largest pack in the realm, don't you think?” “I wouldn't do that if I were you.” Keyleth stepped to my side, her arms folded against each other. “Tell us about the rot and we might just let you live.” “What shall I call you?” The wolven asked again, the smirk on his face dropped. “Oliver. Just Oliver.” — “Koren?” The word rolled off Keyleth's tongue as the male looked with obvious annoyance. “Soren.” He snapped at her, turning a sharp gaze towards me. “Soren stris, the dark wolven rises, and the realm falls.”

No harm done. Olivia opened the book, but she didn’t understand it. Her hands shook while the book glowed with a ghoulish amethyst light. She dropped it and moved away when smoke spiraled from it. At the same time, Olivia heard an eerie cackle and saw the vision of a tall elegant woman dressed in a black gown. The little girl stared open-mouthed at the lady with crimson, lilac hair and yellow horns protruding from her head. Olivia’s body trembled.

"Which is just as well. Humans are dreamsingers, fair-to-middling minds, ambitious, greedy..." "Okay...okay..." Cassandra said. "I will go with you but you need to tell me everything about this world of yours and your mistress and your apocalypse." "Our apocalypse," corrected the owl fiercely. "And one more thing," Cassandra added. "Tell me your name. You haven't told me if you have a name or not. Do you have a name?" "Of course I do!" the owl rolled her enormous eyes. "I was so anxious about all the whole finding-the-one business to introduce myself. Well, my name is Owlyn."