Tarrlok Amon Novels & Stories

“I can’t do it, Tara. I’m going back to my old life. Back to what I knew before the festival. I’m sorry.” Then he stood. The moment his warmth left her, silent tears slipped down her cheeks. “That’s it?” Amarok barked, now on his feet. “Run away before the real battle even begins? Maybe that’s why the goddess gave you a male mate—because you’re not man enough to lead!” Salem didn’t respond. He just gave them one final look, his expression unreadable—and walked out of the tent. “Fuck!” Amarok roared. He kicked over a stool, sending it crashing to the floor.

"And you think that I can be easily defeated by the two of you fucking idiots?" Ammon stood up on his feet and strangled the two werewolves by the neck and threw them away. He then picked up his celestial sword and shield. "I am Ammon and I am the taurus zodiac sign. I am the toughest zodiac warrior among all of us," Ammon's muscles grew and the v-shaped pattern of his celestial sword lit up. He jumped and beheaded the two werewolves. "Just so you know, the Celestial Spirit King granted me incredible strenght that I can force my sword's blade to sharpen." Ammon returned to his house to continue his sleep. The next day, before the sun had risen, he woke up to prepare ginger bread and tea for

Ammon replied. " Ammon, please don't get hurt." Amaria spoke up, and he nodded. They rode away, leaving Ammon behind. 'It's best if I do this in my Werewolf form,' Ammon reasoned as he transformed into his Werewolf form. He was larger than Jareth and Evera's, had dark purple fur, and could stand on his own two feets. He leapt to the ground, grabbing one of the stalactites for support. Then he jumped from stalactite to stalactite until he reached the massive cocoon.

The trek on foot through the mountains would be long, and we would only be shifting if absolutely necessary. Amon pulled in behind me on his Harley. He towered over my petite frame. He was seven feet tall with yellow eyes. He was only one of the seven Dragons left in the world. He was the only Dragon-Warlock-Wolf-Demon I had ever met, really the only double hybrid I had ever heard of. He was magnificent, the oldest in our group being over 100 years old. He shifted into his dragon form, scales lining his arms and back, his wings standing over ten feet fall and eight feet wide. I climbed on as he was my ride to the cave entrance. Why did dark witches have to be so creepy? DAMON

came the now slightly-nasal and much-less-booming voice. "Because you have the tackiest entrances of anyone I've ever met," Tarloh grumbled. Lothar, or Lothar the Magnificent as he liked to be called, was a wizard from Los Angeles who had been helping Tarloh and the Strays in recent months try and identify the source of the Hellspawn threat. It was Lothar who had directed them towards the legends of the Elder Gods. "Tacky?!" Lothar blurted. "I worked hard on that entrance!"

Thus, the former decided to ask, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Talon tried to answer calmly, "I'm Mr. York's secretary, Talon Zarikk. I'm here to take care of him." Though suspicious, Homer didn't have time to argue. "Take care of him. Wait for me to return." Then, he turned and rushed to the elevator. Cold sweat trickled down Talon's back; he feared Homer would discover his true identity, especially as Homer stared directly at him while speaking. Homer soon arrived at Tobias' house. Unlike other arcane seekers who lived lavishly, Tobias dwelled in a modest home beneath the mountain—hardly a place one would associate with power.

Amara was crying for help until some heavy footsteps were heard, which she knew were familiar. The room was lighted as someone entered the room with a lamp. His eyes were blue as ice. He was tall, sculpted with broad shoulders. He then put down the lamp and lit up his cigar as he smoked in the room and proceeded with a long sigh. “Would you want me to kill all of you?” he asked warily. “Killian?” Klaud, who also harmed Amara, had spoken in sudden disbelief. “I knew it!” Killian, one of the top warrior wolves, yelled.

Queen Tarah ruled Odeon since her husband’s demise and she had done a perfect job. He died trying to protect his family and she missed him dearly. She’d raised her children in the right norms and traditions of Odeon. Queen Tarah had a son who would take over the throne when it was time and a beautiful daughter. There names where Keon and Becka respectively. She was a sweet and going woman and she wasted no time taking Amira as one of her children.

she asks, her voice sharp with suspicion. “Yes,” Daniel confirms, turning to face his sister-in-law. “His name is Boris. He told his Alpha that there are rumors in the camp—or the supposed pack—that Emmanuel Reed is alive and currently gathering an army to reestablish his pack and take over the existing ones. From what I understand, Richard has the same objective.”

And with that, he turned and stalked out of the cabin as fast as he had entered, shutting the door hard behind him. My mother collapsed into a chair, shaking. "Who was that, Annie? His power.it was wonderful. I've never felt anything like it, not even from the Martial Lord." I kept mute, but I knew then my mom knew my state. I couldn't say a lot. I looked down at my babies, their tiny fists opening and closing. My sons needed a pack. They needed the best protection they would have. And Damon, for his wickedness, was still an Alpha, still known by all. The strange man was too much of a risk.