Sir Leon Merlin Novels & Stories

Her breath catches between sobs. Arthur, completely out of touch with the situation asks, “How is this possible?” “Really?” I toss my braids over my shoulder as I turn to face him, forgetting everything I said earlier about keeping my mouth shut. “You can't figure this out? YOU ARE KING ARTHUR, like THE KING ARTHUR, like the SWORD IN THE STONE and EXCALIBUR. For fucks sake, dude, your name is ARTHUR DRAKE! Drake as in “dragon” as in “The Pendragon.” Camelot and all that jazz.” I wave my arms frantically from Devona to Faye. “She’s telling you that the court of King Arthur is real, that Faye is your sister, again. And this crazy lady here with the spiffy jacket, she isn’t just a Merlin, she’s

“Are you sure this is what you want?” “Yes. More than anything in the world.” “I can’t believe this,” Merlin said as he slowly lowered himself into a chair, as if his legs had suddenly given out. He rubbed his forehead in disbelief. “I thought… I thought once you got this need for revenge out of your system you would come back to me.” Laila lifted an eyebrow, ignoring Lola’s furious howl beside her. “Merlin, what on earth made you believe that? Everything I’ve said and done proves otherwise.”

I asked, hopefully. “Are you kidding me?” he exclaimed, looking at me as if I was crazy. “Merlin’s Bar is the best in England and considerably famous for its lip-smacking whiskey,” he announced, enlightening us with this surprisingly and ironically interesting piece of information, though not worthy enough to alter my opinion of the place. “And according to legend, the great King George himself was accustomed to ordering the drinks for his royal parties from here,” he informed, in a pompous tone, thoroughly proud of his choice.

Leon opened the chat app, his eyes narrowing as he read the incoming message: "Bro, how's it going today? Still at war with your new 'stepmother'?" With fingers trembling with emotion, Leon replied: "It's terrible, Dra. She's getting more and more persistent. She cooks for me, tries to strike up conversations. My dad told her to persuade me, he said. I can't get rid of her from this house. This house is full of memories of Mum, you know? If she stays here, I'll go crazy."

He shrugged. “Myths and legends are all based in some kind of reality.” She guessed that he was right. Sybil came back to present time and stared out the window just thinking. She had been reading up on a few things. Her time with Niba had made her think about herself a little bit. Niba kept calling her a pythoness. One who was connected to all branches of magic but tended to master in one area quickly. Pythons were rare because they were able to fully learn other branches of magic where most witches were only ever to truly master one. Niba said the last known here was Morgana. That her brother Merlin had disappeared some time ago to an unknown fate. Well guess Areis comment about myths and

Removal was not a very big deal for him anyway. Lord Billington knew that he might be a lot of things but suave was not one of his greater qualities. Even though he knew that somehow without even wanting, his son, Lancelot had gone out and made a fool of himself he could not let him die out there in the open and he knew what he needed to do. He needed to talk to the man whose daughter had been killed and along with that, son-in-law had been murdered.

she added in a grim tone. Sir Leon raises his eyebrows before letting out a short chuckle. "Ah, Your Majesty, you misunderstand us. Well...we did conceal something and that is —" he looks at her, dead in the eye and continues, "that girl...is a mage." It elicits more gasps. But Erica remains stoic. She doesn't dare to look at her mate.

said Merlin, “I am not inclined to play politics with mutts, so I will leave this task to you. From now on, you will listen to me and only me.” Merlin teleported. He hovered over Shananel, pressed her cheeks tightly, and whispered on her face with great malice and sick pleasure. “You and I can’t afford to lose this war. We are already in the point of no return.” Disbelief, horror, fury… these emotions mixed and were reflected in Shananel’s eyes before she succumbed to Merlin’s curse. x-x-x-x-x-x-x The subsidiary leaders of the Werewolf Committee had a meeting of their own.

Diana leaned back slightly, watching him as he spoke about something trivial, something that didn’t carry weight or pressure. “You know,” Merlin said, lifting his glass slightly, “if I had known all it took to get you to sit quietly like this was bringing you here, I would have done it a long time ago.” Diana raised an eyebrow at him. “So now I’m the problem?” He shrugged lightly. “I didn’t say that. I just said you’re… energetic.” She let out a small laugh. “That’s a nice way of putting it.” Merlin leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice in mock seriousness. “I’m being very kind, actually.”

Leo sat impatiently on a crate at the corner of our cramped, one room apartment while I painted the thick, black sludge over his hair. "I hate this black goop," he scrunched his nose. "It itches.” "I know, baby," I said, brushing a lock of his hair aside. Beneath the artificial black, his roots were glowing a bright, shimmering gold. A mark of his Camelot blood. The mark of the man who wanted us dead. "But we have to be invisible. Remember the game? We are shadows." "Shadows don't have gold hair," Leo recited the rule we lived by.