Shaman King Novels & Stories

Of course, he's also conscientious, warm and determined, but they're tainted by and mixed with habits of being shallow as well. There were many instances when his people counted on him for his cooperation in times of need. Fortunately, his loving nature is usually there to help mend things when needed. "I have no hope. I've become a poor King who can't give an heir." The King mumbled in his thoughts. Shaman's Arrival

I nodded. “The Oakangan pack in BC.” I offered, and she nodded. “They had the last shaman before, the one that we have today.” Rowan pointed out. Toya nodded. “Exactly. And the Shaman left them a vision that has been passed down since her time.” “What?” Rowan’s hand tightened again, accidentally pulling me closer to his side. “I wasn’t informed.”

The shaman’s entire body trembled. “Y-Your M-Majesty… the king forbade me to speak. I—I swore to him. I couldn’t—” Darian’s smile widened, slow and merciless. “Oh, you could have.” His eyes darkened. “You simply chose the wrong king.” "W-what do you mean, Your Majesty?" the shaman stammered. A slow, unsettling smile crept across Darian’s face. He rose from his throne with the calculated calm of a predator and walked toward the shaman kneeling on the cold stone floor.

The air around them got thick with tension causing his High Council to jerk out of their seats. Amaya who origins were unknown had long black hair that was always braided going past her hips. Her eyes were the color of the sea not typical blue but almost green like. She was said to be older than the King himself ranging in the 2,000 mark. Her demeanor was way worse than the kings. Cold doesn’t even suit her range of emotions. “Lazarus! You of all people should know better. Drop him this instance!”

He kept what he noticed to himself and leaned back in his chair, watching everything. The shaman turned to King Silas, expecting him to say something, perhaps give an order for the alpha to sit, but Silas' lips remained sealed. “My King,” the shaman finally spoke as he straightened himself in his sitting position. He pointed at Fake Logan. “He refuses to partake and if no intervention is made, I won't be able to carry on.” Silas finally intervened. “Logan Kincaid, please obey the instructions.” “Never!” Fake Logan roared. His outburst shook Silas and his council and it was evident in the way Silas's eyes widened.

He instantly reached out with his free hand, steadying Kyden’s slumping body from hitting the ground. “Kyden, you fucking idiot!” he growled dangerously, his voice thick with fear of losing us both. “What the hell are you doing? You’re killing yourself!” Kyden’s face twisted in unbearable pain, but he managed a weak grin. “Saving your sorry ass, Alpha Kieran,” he rasped, his breath turning shallow. “Someone’s gotta keep you both alive.” His bloodied hand trembled against the array, his energy still flowing into the stones. The shaman’s chants resumed after a while, her voice strained as she fought to maintain the ritual’s momentum.

Sharee had picked something in the words from the darkness—sloppiness and mistakes are not my style. She found a strange sense of relatability in those words, a quiet alignment that stirred within her chest. As a Shaman, sloppiness and mistakes led to consequences as grave as untimely death, and for a fleeting moment, she thought—perhaps they were not so different. Yet, something about the voice unsettled her. Regardless, she brushed that unease to the back of her mind, this person would do her dirty work—kill the Queen, and she would take what remained; the Queen’s ancient power and become The First. This way, she could finally be immortal.

"Time to go back to our kingdom and finish the chaos that my brother had started during my absence." After unfreezing everyone in the building, Granny and I teleported back to my house. We landed in the study room. "Your highness, I suggest that before you bring Lauren to our kingdom, you should see the Shaman first. He was the one who had seen the prophecy of the fall of your kingdom due to a human Queen. Seek his wisdom first and ask who this woman is." Granny Ursula urged me. I fell silent. A debate was raging inside my head. "What if Lauren is the woman that Shaman was talking about? Before you make a very big mistake, think wisely first! It's better to be safe than sorry." Granny Ursula

*“Tell the Shaman to proceed with the pack run.” Kieran’s eyes widened, his jaw tightening. *“Little one, you don't understand. If we do the run, the pack expects—”* *“Trust me, Kieran,”* I interrupted, my gaze locking onto his with absolute, unwavering certainty. *“Please.”* He stared at me for a single, heavy heartbeat, searching my face. Seeing the fierce fire in my eyes, the Alpha King yielded. He turned to the High Shaman, his voice booming over the crowd. "Proceed with the sacred pack run."

With trembling fingers, I pulled out the heavy silver necklace hidden beneath my tunic—the only heirloom my mother had left me, an ancient artifact my old pack had laughed at, calling it cheap Omega trash. I held it up to the moonlight. It was an exact match. Every line, every curve, every single sapphire stone was identical. I wasn't an accidental refugee. I was the literal key to the Lycan King's salvation—or his ultimate destruction. Suddenly, a loud rustling broke out in the thick bushes, and stepping out from the swirling fog was a tall, hooded figure holding a twisted wooden staff. A Shaman. Her blind, milky eyes locked directly onto the silver amulet glittering in my hand, and a terri