Ragnarok Aphrodite Novels & Stories

The order is as follows: The Betrayed Wolf Of The Moon Goddess. The Found Fated Mates Of Fenrir. Dahlia The Female Alpha Of Alpha’s Gaia The Wolf Goddess Of Hell. Rosa The Wolf Oracle. Soulless Seas. Thank you again and much love. Becca Lou xx

The truth is that he is starting to believe that a goddess of lust has taken over Katrina's innocent body. "You will have that reward if you listen to me at least once," Ragnar leaves his pose and walks over to her to take her waist from behind. He deeply inhales the aroma of her neck, and for a moment, that action confuses Katrina. In fact, many of Ragnar's actions since the full moon have her confused. "You know that the more attentive you are with me, the more reward you will have from me whenever you want it."

Of all the beauty, hers was the most divine. Her purple eyes gleamed with her grey armor as she rose from the ashes, did her purple gaze shine with her tears or her enemy’s blood? They were afraid to call her by her name……. Athena. I am Athena Raven Lark, and this is my Story.

They knew this wasn't from the Blood rogue, because why go for two random people? The next day, Astrid is brought to be killed. During the ritual that would lead up to her death, Ragnar is really uncomfortable. He hated her, but she was also the new mate the new goddess had given him. The moment it was time for Astrid to be killed, Ragnar would stand up and interrupt, just then, the full-moon gets to it's highest peak and Astrid begins to turn. Astrid wolf is a rare one and fits the exact description that the prophetess gave to Ragnar concerning the Savior.

She looked like flame personified, untouchable, divine, and yet so painfully mortal. The tension between them was a taut cord stretched to breaking. Ragnar’s mind burned with the memory of Atlas. Atlas daring to speak of love, Atlas’s hand brushing hers, the way Freya’s eyes had softened when she whispered his name in her half-dreaming state. She had sworn he was only a friend, sworn her loyalty lay elsewhere. But Ragnar had heard that whisper, had tasted the truth in it, and it gnawed at him like a parasite. Slowly, he turned, his golden eyes locking onto her. His gaze was a predator’s, hungry, possessive, a storm of want and fury tangled together.

Ragnar stood up and hurriedly walked over to meet the old lady. — Mor, mor, have you seen like me, my runes that were there? he asked eagerly. — Runes? — Yes, runes ... I wrote runes on the floor and they have ... —… been accepted, answered the old lady calmly. Ragnar stopped and looked at the old lady. She had her back arched, wore a modest cape, tapering in places. Her cape covered her face and he could only see her mouth whose lips seemed to have been blackened. An amulet hung from her neck. She was leaning on a staff she was holding with both hands, and Ragnar soon realized that her hands were shaking. The old woman must have walked for a long time, he told himself.