The Descendants Mal Novels & Stories

“Sleep before midnight?” “She doesn’t even leave that glass room of hers, and she still nags like my grandmother,” Kieran muttered under his breath. Roy didn’t comment, but his hand brushed once across his mouth, wiping the smile off his face. The overhead voice called out their stop. They all got up and waited for the door to open to get off. Once they got off, Malen gave them a short nod and a little wave before she left; the two of them walked off in different directions the moment their boots touched the platform.

“They were experiments. They begged me to end it.” “You’re not God.” “No,” he whispered. “But I’ve been made to be one.” He pulled a tablet from his coat and tossed it to her. On the screen: classified blueprints. Modified DNA. A map leading to a new facility, one not in France, but hidden beneath the ice of Iceland. “This is where the next generation is being built,” Malachai said. “Ashford tech. Carried on by the remnants of Vincent’s loyalists. They’re using children now. Orphans. Refugees. No one will miss them.”

He promptly countered, "That's not true. Mom, didn't you say before that Uncle Xav wasn't normal and couldn't have children?" Marlene wished she could smack her son. "You misheard me." Malcolm didn't care. He ran to Clifford, grabbing his hand. "Great-Grandpa, chase this feral boy away. He's not one of us at all. He's only here to swindle me out of my rightful inheritance." He pointed menacingly at Noah. "I'm the future heir of the Lanes! Don't even think about it. I'll kill you if you try! Believe me!"

Professor Faren sighed and glanced behind me, up towards the sky. "All dark elf descendants are born with a dark signature," he began to explain. I nodded, understanding that much from a few close calls when my mother and I were on the run. "Most descendants have unique birthmarks, others have a sublime control over dark magic since birth. A few such as yourself and your father, are born with a dark mind. Split in two by your parents' dominant genes," he explained. I scratched my head, feeling a little ache hitting my forehead. "Can you say all that you just said in a less sophisticated term," I said, rubbing my head.

Please God let them rescue me before it's too late. Malachi's POV: "Alright everyone we land in a few minutes. From there we will meet up outside the old castle where they're located. You all know where you need to be as soon as we land. Dismissed" I say as the pilot instructs us to buckle up as the plane starts its descent. When the plane comes to a stop one of my men yank the door open and everyone empties out the plane to their designated vehicles when a second and third jet land on the other runways. I recognize my other smaller jet. If I wasn't so pissed about the situation I'd be giddy at the thought of unleashing my pack on my enemies. The third jet looks vaguely familiar but I can't

"About the descendants of the moon wolf." "Moon wolf…" Why did that sound so familiar to me? "There has been a legend that the moon wolf left behind a descendant before leaving this world. For a long time, that descendant, their children, and their children's children were safe in the White Claw pack, which lives deep in the Freezia Mountains. "I know this legend " Mason piped up. "It was told to all of us at a young age, but what does it have to do with Danica and Xavier?"

“Your brother, Keanu. He is a descendant of Kenzo and Khanza! Their son who was saved, he managed to live and drive out all the evil forces because of the power that was handed down directly by Kenzo and Khanza! He managed to get rid of me every time I targeted him and his family. He taught all his descendants how to get rid of the forces of evil. And Keanu and his family are the descendants of Kenzo and Khanza!" “Then, I have absolutely nothing to do with what happened two hundred years ago! Why have you always come to me since I was little, trying to take over my body and trying to kill me, then throwing my soul into the most cruel and terrible places?!" “Hey, my little girl… have you forg

Marcus´s expression softens; he gives me an incredulous look. “Then this means that you´re...” “I´m a descendant of the Five.” “Whose bloodline?” “Silas, the First.” “So, you´re that wolf.” “What do you mean? Do you know who I am?” “There have been whispers that a witch named Stella Dubois had attained immortality, only to be killed by the descendant of the First Wolf immediately afterwards. That was you, wasn´t it?” “They say I´m the descendant of the First Wolf, although I have no recollection of who I am, let alone killing that witch.”

Only then do I realize that means I'd die! "Could you both stop talking like graduates from gaga academy? We aren't in some book or movie. This is as real as it gets now get your lazy feet off the ground. We've got families to get to. " Desmond suddenly cuts in. Gabby and I share a look before we proceed walking quietly. ~We'd both make it out alive... Right? ! +! +! +! +! +! +! +! +! *Back At The Mansion (On the same night of Rachel's death) *

Honestly, I'd never met anyone like her before. The mother and son had only moved in a week ago. Ever since then, the hallway had reeked of sour, rotten funk. Shirley always looked polished and put together, but the second their apartment door opened, the smell hit like a truck. I honestly wondered if they'd dragged an entire landfill into their home. Her eight-year-old son, Mike Lambert, was even worse. He was a classic wild child. He ran around all day waving his toy sword and yelling about killing people.