Tristan Tales Novels & Stories

“Do you mean sex? No, I have never tried being fucked by a man.” Adrian shifted his seat and nodded. I could feel myself getting heated up because of our conversation. He is flirting. Is he? Oh, yes. I’m sure he is. “How about you? How many girls have you bedded? When was the first time and the last time?” I tried to ask casually. He laughed. “Three? Five? I don’t know. I don’t count my body count. I was sixteen when I lost my virginity with a classmate. She offered herself out of curiosity, and because of desire, I accepted the deal and fucked her.”

He just couldn't get the indecent scene out of his mind. Not only was his brother sleeping with his wife, but he had also found out something unimaginable. And it was something he wouldn't take lightly. --- Tristan's territory mostly dealt with the weapons of the Wallingtons. Not all weapons, but most of them. Tristan had many trained assassins, skilled just like him. He settled into his large room and sent for something to eat and drink. Within minutes, a young lady stepped in with a tray of delicious-looking food and drinks.

- Show me what happened to Ira. The bright light dimmed for a short time, as if embarrassed. But it immediately exploded into a myriad of stars, dragging Tristan down. The world swam, and the young man closed his eyes... Tristan hovered above the ground. Forests, streams and cities rushed by below him. My head was spinning from the speed of the flight. Having mastered the surging nausea, the young man began to recognize the area. These were the views of Liguria. He was approaching his native castle. Like a disembodied spirit, Lord Tantario rushed through the walls. His eyes widened in amazement: there was a massacre in the castle. The pictures changed quickly, the figures seemed like smoky g

His presence was not loud, but it demanded silence. When his gaze finally found us, he took a slow step forward. “So this,” he said, voice deep, smooth, carrying easily over the sound of the rain, “is the Red Fang Pack.” I did not move. “It is.” He studied me, his expression unreadable. “I am Tristan and I’ve heard much of you in recent moons,” he said, walking slowly along the yard. “Whispers reach even the crown, about a pack reborn, a war fought between shadows, and a lady who stands where most men have fallen.”

Tristan said and his gaze was burning in the dimly lit chamber. After that, the distinctive markings on his forehead appeared to shine brightly in the gloom. Even more radiant than the lone torch that was on the hands of the servant Howard. If there was a word that could describe the only boy amongst the two men, Joseph would not use the word normal to this monstrosity. Every single thing about Master Tristan defied comprehension. Perhaps the young boy Tristan was one of the mythical gods of the legends. A being that can fight with magical beasts bare handed and even slay those gigantic creatures at will.

When he shook his head, Bryan sighed, “Damn, I am in trouble.” “Tell me about Vanessa and her fiance.” “Well, I don’t know much but Megan told me that Vanessa’s fiance left five years ago and hasn’t shown up yet,” he answered. Raising his brows, Justin asked, “Where did he go and why?” “I don’t know and neither does Megan. In fact, even Vanessa doesn’t know.” Without waiting for his reply, Bryan added, “But Vanessa has been waiting for him since he left and the ring which is lost is her engagement ring.”

His once-human features were warped now—void-light flickered beneath his skin, black veins curled across his neck, and his eyes were bottomless pits. “They promised light. They gave you chains.” A gust of wind swept through the city, carrying dust and the faint scent of blood. “I walked in their temples,” Tristan continued. “I drank from their sacred wells. I prayed. I obeyed. And in return?” He spread his hands wider. “They fed me lies.” He stepped down from the pillar, walking slowly among the crowd. People flinched but didn’t run. His presence pulled them in like gravity. “They told you to kneel,” he said. “To bow. To worship. And what did you get in return?”

Looking at these unambitious clansmen, he didn't say anything more and went upstairs to his study to work. He hadn't been working for long when his phone rang. He indifferently tapped it open to take a look. It was a message from Gray Tail. He had shared a link: 【I recorded lyra while she was telling stories. You're welcome.】 Seeing these words, Tristan scoffed and casually tossed his phone aside before starting to work. He wasn't like those disgraceful clansmen. He had been in this world for so long, he had seen everything. What was so special about some woman's storytelling?

Tristan's own eyes stung, but he smiled, feeling the depth of their bond. In this moment, nothing else mattered – not the dangers of the Order, not even the challenges of the Institute, not the secrets he kept. Only the love they shared, pure and unwavering. Tristan shared stories of his adventures, omitting the more perilous details. Laura listened, her eyes shining with love and pride, as he spoke of breathtaking landscapes, fascinating people, and thrilling discoveries.

I wasn't sure they wanted to stop it, they seemed to be delighted by it. This seems to be something that happens much too often as no one seemed to be shocked by it. Tristan stands at the center of the courtyard with a wicked smile on his face as his guards hold me tightly. The rest of the packs have gathered around, curious to see what's happening. They were trooping in their numbers. Tristan starts speaking, and his voice echoes through the courtyard, dripping with arrogance, spinning a false story about our relationship.