The Lorien Legacies Novels & Stories

“Is that why you looked at me like I was a monster every time you showed up? Is that why you couldn’t even hug me without recoiling like I’d burn you?” Her shoulders flinch—just barely—but I see it. For the first time in my life, Mila Westwood looks… guilty. It does something uncomfortable to me and I don’t like it. “We didn’t have the luxury of love, Liora,” she murmurs. “Not with your bloodline and not with the prophecy.” Prophecy. If I was given a coin for every dramatic thing that’s been thrown at me lately, I’d be richer than the gods. I narrow my eyes. “Start making sense.”

"The heart is deceitful above all things, Sister Joy. Even the brightest star can fall if it’s held up by pride instead of true holiness. We must pray for her soul, even as we protect our own." "But she’s always been so quiet and kind..." the girl stammered. "Lucifer was an angel of light before he fell," I snapped, my voice regaining its sharp edge. "We have removed the rot from our midst. The Fellowship is pure again." The meeting ended shortly after, and the girls trickled out to their various rooms with heavy hearts. When the room was finally empty, I pulled my phone from my denim skirt pocket. I opened a private, encrypted chat with a contact saved only as 'The Shadow.'

"This is incredible." Tasha nodded, but her eyes were focused on something else. She sat down on the bed and brought out a book from under her pillow, and then glanced back at Storm with a n unreadable expression. “Why are your eyes purple?” She whispered, clutching the book to her chest. Storm frowned at the question. “Genetics” She replied with a shrug although she knew it was deeper than that. She actually never knew the real meaning behind her eyes. But judging from the way her parents had always seemed to over react and hide it, Storm was sure that there was more to it.

While forming Carodia and creating the first wolves called legacies, Tuiren states here that she had regrets. She knew her gifted wolves will rise against her later on and so she made bloodlines and a clan of silver wolves to be their worst enemy. "Do you see it now?" Wendy asks, moments later. She knows I've picked the right book for a start. I run my fingers over the Celtic symbols of fire and water imprinted on a page. Tuiren had used these for her creations and that was why each legacy could control either of the elements. "A legacy is not the most powerful wolf alive. I am." I breathe the last words out. The realization shocks me. It's like Tuiren made my kind as a check on the first wo

The winds started to outrage as well as the lightning and thunder started to invade. Her eyes are glowing green. It was like the oracle. “You killed the oracle?” I ask, but she smirks. “Yes, because she already saw my return. And I won’t let a weakling useless creature ruin my plan.” How dare she tainted the name of the good oracle? “I will not let your plan works!” I hissed and started to attack her again, but she is gone. “Looking for me?” I looked behind me, and I saw her lift her hand, and the next thing I knew, I had a large wound on my leg.

"Just think that I'll fight for you no matter what happens, I'll fight for our love." Luna averted her eyes and looked at her book shelves with old and thick books. "I've read something in one of my books. There are so many civilians who died, because of the love between two people. It was taken from real life, but they changed the name of the place and the people." "Are you referring to the Legend of the Moon?" Arayan asked. "Legend? You mean it's not true?" "How can you say it's not true? You are the proof," Arayan replied with a smile.

So, with Lochness and Nefertari at the helm of the other races of Midgar, a mighty war was raged. In the years to come, this war would be known as The Fires of Alira in honor of the dragon goddess. After the great fires, peace returned to the realm once more.

“Lora? She’s just twelve.” “She’s also the last descendant of the Voss line, the ones who attended the Queen’s mirror before the Sundering,” Kieran said grimly. “Morwen has been grooming her since midwinter. Told her she was special and chosen.” I remembered Lora,quiet, wide-eyed, always lingering near Morwen’s lectures, holding that silver locket like a talisman. I thought she was just another lost soul seeking guidance. Instead, she had been a bait. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing,” I whispered.

Lorien. Was it really possible that he had stolen me from my real family? That he had taken everything from me and reshaped my world into one of his own making? I didn’t know what to believe anymore. But I did know one thing. I needed answers. "What do I do?" I whispered. "Lorien extracted your memories," Aryna revealed. "He keeps them in an orb that's in some kind of subspace only he can reach. If you want them back, you’ll have to force him to return them."

The truth burns: the Herald is Elara’s kin, corrupted by betrayal, seeking to unmake her legacy. Kalia’s orb sparks, her aura flaring, her eyes distant, a vision seizing her. “Aelys!” she gasps, “the Herald—it’s gathering relics on a rift-torn world, unraveling the Veil!” Her relic pulses, the Herald’s hymn echoing: “Lumora falls, child—your cosmos is mine.” The archive trembles, void-wraiths breaching the dome, their claws slashing. I shield Kalia, my blade striking a wraith, my hymn faltering, my mortal heart straining. The relic’s hymn surges, its starlight wounding me, pain erupting, Lena’s spark flickering. “Aelys!” Kalia cries, her orb flaring, her hymn unsteady but fierce, felling a w