Starlight Blows Homelander Novels & Stories

I looked up and realized that it was him. Lucas Storm. "What is wrong with you, I can see that you are itching for round two?" I stepped forward and extended my claws, Ryder kept his hands firmly on my shoulder to hold me back, and Kael did the same for Lucas. The only problem was that holding us back never worked because whenever a Cross and a Storm collided, there was bound to be retribution. "Bennett don't do this, let's go." "Listen to your Beta, pup." His voice was husky with amusement, and a smile stretched my lips. Before he could say anything else, my fist collided with his already bruised jawline.

Sophia’s POV The drone’s red lights pinned us to the lake’s muddy shore, its hum a menacing pulse as my brother—Ethan, long thought dead—stood before me, his gun raised, his eyes cold with a truth that shattered my heart. His words, “You shouldn’t have trusted the stars,” cut deeper than the rain stinging my skin, a betrayal that echoed the Syndicate’s relentless pursuit. The journal and three drives in my hands held my father’s cipher—my memories of Orion’s stars, the key that had exposed the Syndicate’s empire, now crumbling under the virus’s broadcast. Liam clung to me, his blood soaking my hospital gown, his breath shallow but his love a fire that burned through my fear. His kisses in hi

"Alpha Elijah is very eager to begin our... negotiations." I leaned back against the velvet cushions, letting out a long, shaky breath. I was deep in the lion’s den now. The economic pressure on Moon Stone would lift by morning. Elijah would want me to see him as a provider. He would show me his wealth, his food, his supposed mercy. He thought he had bought a desperate woman. He didn't realize he had invited a spy into his heart, and a Trojan horse into his halls. I touched the small, concealed pocket in my skirt where a single vial of Moonbloom extract sat. It was a powerful sedative Mara had given me, thinking I might need it to sleep. Well, I wouldn't be using it for sleep. I hope you're

That was the deal with the Moon Goddess when she was a child. "Blizzard!" I shouted, grabbing his attention. He dodges Hades' punch, which hits the floor, opening cracks on impact. Omar aims his fist at Hades to steal his attention while Blizzard makes his way to the purple-glowing portal that hides behind the closed door. He takes Mother in his arms, reading himself to walk through the portal. Just as he is about to go through, his steps falter. In horror, I realized Hades had pierced Blizzard's chest with his hand. In a swift motion, Hades removes it, dodging a fire breath from Omar. Blizzard falls to his knees before dropping entirely on the floor. I try to heal him, but my own power exha

She came out after Moon had taken control and was shocked to see Hunter. Dad's knitted brows showed he was worried too, although he tried to hide it. Moon set Hunter down on the bed before I regained control. Dad showed up by the door, looking like he wanted to talk. "Please Dad, not now..." I pleaded. He looks over my shoulder and nods in understanding. I closed the door and made my way to lay beside Hunter on the bed. My eyes scanned his face. He is still healing, but I could tell they used some sort of silver blade on him which angered my wolf more.

His singed fingers brushed mine, and the contact was an earthing wire—a violent jolt of heat that made the silver threads on my temple ignite with a defiant spark. "I'm going back to the gate," Damian said, his eyes burning with a dark, triumphant fire. "When the lights go out again, Elena... show me why your father thought you were worth the erasure of his name." He turned and walked out. The door sealed with a finality that felt like a dare. I looked at my hands. In the left, Sarah’s high-tech disruptor. In the right, the obsidian blade from the man who had burned my family to the ground.

He looked at her with reverence. ​“You did it,” Finn whispered, leaning against Orion for support. “You actually did it.” ​Elara let her blade vanish. Her legs finally gave out, and she began to fall, but Caleb was there. He caught her, pulling her into his chest, his golden aura warm and steady against her skin. ​“I told you,” Caleb whispered into her hair. “You are the Star.” ​Ryker stepped forward, his gaze shifting to Caleb. The brothers surrounded them, forming a circle of muscle and bone. Silas looked at the broken altar, then at the silver pen.

Their faces were melting, revealing the rusted iron and blue light of the Sub-Lunar Foundry beneath. "THE HARVEST CANNOT BE STOPPED," the Reflections spoke in a distorted chorus. "THE STAR-CHILD IS THE SEED. THE ALPHA IS THE SOIL. THE MOTHER IS THE WASTE". They lunged at me with their silver-glass spears. "Kael! Silas!" I shouted, but they were outside, anchoring the ship. "I've got them, Mother," Leo said. He didn't use a sword. He reached into the air and pulled a handful of the "Silver Mist" I had purged from Hope. He compressed it between his palms, turning the corruption into a jagged blade of Grey-Steel.

Chapter 17 — Ripples in the Pack Lyra’s POV The aftermath of last night hung over the Blackthorn compound like a storm cloud, heavy and restless. Every hallway, every corner, every shadow seemed to watch me, whispering. Moon-marked… dangerous… survivor… The words didn’t leave my mind, and neither did the taste of what I’d done. I hadn’t meant to kill him—at least not in the conscious sense—but my wolf had acted. The instincts I’d tried to ignore had taken over, sharp and swift and absolute. And now everyone knew.

"You’ve silenced him! You’ve murdered the future!" ​She lunged for me, a curved obsidian blade appearing in her hand, but Liam was faster. He tackled her mid-air, the two of them crashing into a row of glass specimen jars. ​"Sofia! Get the children out through the service tunnel!" I shouted, clutching Rowan to my chest. The Anchor was now a dull, warm weight hanging around his neck on a silver chain. He felt heavy in my arms—solid, real, and mortal. ​The Ouroboros soldiers, seeing their goddess-figure in a brawl and their god silenced, regained their military composure. They raised their weapons—low-tech, pneumatic dart rifles that didn't rely on the electronics my son had just fried.