Thor: The Dark World Algrim Mga Nobela at Kwento

Thorian asserted, his alpha demeanor radiating authority. Darius, the cloaked figure, responded with a dark chuckle that sent shivers down the spines of those present. "Or else what, Thorian Blackwood?" Darius taunted, his voice dripping with malevolence. Thorian, undeterred, growled in anger, positioning himself defiantly with everyone behind him, a united front against the enigmatic threat.

He had known Aloha was their true mate but had chosen to bide his time, waiting for Ragnar to accept his own feelings before revealing the startling truth about Aloha being their second mate As they stormed into Marvins' pack territory, Ragnar allowed his inner demons to take control. His every step exuded an aura of dark power, and his hand swatted aside any wolf foolish enough to challenge him. The sudden intrusion had thrown Marvins' pack into chaos, and the noise drew Marvins and his sister, Thuy, out of their hideouts. Fear clutched at Marvins as his eyes locked onto Ragnar's unyielding gaze. Panic surged through him, a desperate instinct to escape the overwhelming force that had descen

to mimic the void, creating a localized vacuum that the Frost-Wraiths could not penetrate. "They are at the door, Soren!" a Shadow warrior barked, his voice a dry rasp of exhaustion. "Hold the line!" Soren roared, his claws dripping with the translucent black ichor of the wraiths. "The Alpha has returned. The light is coming." Deep beneath the floorboards, far beyond the reach of the battle, Maya was drifting through a world of molten orange and crystalline violet. She had moved past the catacombs and the tectonic plates, descending into the very "Mantle of the World".

She looked for Orion, but he was gone. Something in her cracked and she screamed loud enough to shake the earth.. But no one came. They took her to a stone fortress. Two armored wolves dragged her in, ignoring her screams and fights. Her fists beat against them, but it didn’t matter. They brought her to him. Alpha Maeron. He stood tall, with a scar down his jaw and a wicked look in his eyes. “So,” he said, stepping forward, “this is the little Stormborn girl.” Octavia glared at him. “You’re a monster!” she shouted.

Ash lifted his head. When he spoke, the words sounded layered—as if two voices came from his mouth at once: “They’ve found me.” A low, rising roar echoed through the trees. Darkthorn had arrived. Hundreds—no, thousands—of warriors moved like a black tide just beyond the camp’s border, their torches bobbing in the dark. Their crest—a crimson thorn wrapped around a wolf’s skull—gleamed like fresh blood. Tyla sucked in a breath beside me. I stepped closer, shielding her with my body even though her power surged so fiercely she didn’t need me to.

The aura he possessed at that point was that of a powerful ruler, a king. What his eyes searched for was absolutely nothing but what his thoughts held were inconceivable. He knew that this was the last time he was going to be a free man. He knew that the moment he leaves the mansion, his entire being would be dedicated to nothing else but the country. He is Nolan Armstrong, the Imperial ruler of the east, and a ruler he shall remain. It is his life, his heritage. His thoughts were interrupted by Scorpion, but his eyes remained fixed outside.

But not only was the binding about to expire—the three slaughter warriors behind him were also rising one after another. “A divine goldsmith—how much alchemical solution can she possibly be carrying?” A dark figure approached slowly. “I’m quite curious, Miss Yina—are you in fact an alchemist? Can you concoct potions while killing your enemies?” Thor stood with his arms folded, the inverted cross on his forearm glaringly conspicuous. The dark holy tome in his hands was open, his black robe rippling in the wind. Among those hulking warriors, he was the leanest in build. But I had no path of retreat.

“You’re in Astrald territory. The Woodhound Pack.” The moment those words left her mouth, my blood ran cold. Woodhound. Bisclaveret’s greatest rival. Alpha Thor. Fear took over me instantly. Thor. His name alone sent shivers down my spine. Stories of his brutality weren’t just rumours; they were warnings based on reality. He was said to be a man drenched in blood and known for his close ties to the Lycan King himself. Unlike Kestrel, who was calculated in his cruelty, Thor was pure savagery. A pack that was an enemy to Kestrel could be a potential ally, but it could also be a greater danger to me.

I turn to see Alpha Thorne himself striding onto the battlefield, his massive form radiating malevolent power. "Enough of this," he snarls, his voice carrying an otherworldly resonance. "It's time to end this farce." With a gesture, tendrils of dark energy erupt from the ground, ensnaring our fighters. I watch in horror as pack members are dragged down, their screams of terror cut short as they're pulled beneath the earth. "No!" I scream, unleashing a blast of power that shatters the nearest tendrils. But there are too many, spreading too quickly.

The mourning dove fled to the peal of an elfin horn: "What was that call, just now? And that insurmountable wind like lindworm breath?" I murmured to myself, shuddering as I looked out the window: In rode a terrible train of huldre, Jotun, alfar and dokkalfar, dwarves, nixie, mara and trolls of the Dark Court from the depths of the woods. The Cunningfolk's allies in the Northern Holds of Utgardr, and Arcadia's sworn enemies.