Tristan Tales Novels & Stories

This is an Omnibus! Featuring: Book One: The Lycan King's Perfect Revenge - Tristan and Iris’s Story Book Two: The Lycan King's Blind Mate - Rhys and Thea's Story Book Three: The Lycan King's Cruel Judgment - Jack and Esme's Story Book 1: The night Tristan finds out his beloved wife betrayed him with another man, he's heartbroken but Tristan is a man totally in love with his wife, so he forgives her and begs her to come back to him. But on the night she was supposed to give birth to their child, she chose to commit suicide, killing herself and the unborn baby. Before she died, she told Tristan that she had fallen completely in love with the other man, Ethan and would rather di

It had been going on for nearly twenty minutes. "Find anything?" Tristan didn't even look up. "Nothing useful" he replied. Tristan finally glanced up. "The internet loves him" he said. I frowned. "What does that mean?" "It means everything says the same thing." I crossed my arms. "That's it? There's got to be more" i said. "There isn't. Half the information contradicts itself" Tristan shrugged. "One article says he's a hero, another says he's a criminal and a third says he's building an army" he continued.

Lewis said, eyes half-closed, while pointing a finger at Tristan, “I’ve met many in my early teens … but they all fell into my pants … my dang pockets… you know what I mean?” “I don’t,” Tristan shook his head slowly, then he took another drink, then burped. “I know nothing of women.” “Come on, you’re not a saint … or a priest,” Lewis scowled. “Don’t tell me you did not have any desire to see naked ladies …” Tristan shook his head again. “I only desire … to see dragons, Lewis.”

"Forget about him. He'll be driving, and we'll be in the back doing our thing. If that's not exciting enough for you, I'll tell him to pull over so he can join in…" "What are you talking about?" I hissed, covering his mouth. Truckers—especially the long-haul guys—had a habit of talking dirty to pass the time, but I couldn't believe he was saying such things about me. I was mortified. Yet, despite the shame, the image Dylan planted in my mind began to take root. Two strong men, one in front, one behind… I pressed my hands against my burning cheeks, forcing the thoughts away, and hurried to finish packing.

Tristan was well known all over the land for his extraordinary mind and memorizing powers. Clearing his throat, Tristan nodded and quoted the exact words of that book. “To avoid disputes for the lust of darkness, I trapped maliciousness in twelve fragments for you to cherish as chattels.” Tristan spoke, surprising Ruth and others. “A chattel you are unable to embrace nor ever endeavor to. I, for one, command you to repel what drags your soul into the abyss.” Zadicus continued from where he left off and Tristan continued. “Do not starve for clandestine or tainted perceptions. They are derived from pure violence to provide you eternal solace. Believe in my command and Sacred Times.”

Including Tristan. The vault door clanged shut, the sound echoing the finality of my decision. Tristan’s journal, filled with his messy handwriting and surprisingly insightful observations, was now locked away. A time capsule of sorts, capturing the strange, tender moments we'd shared. Moments that felt… wrong. In my world, tenderness was a luxury I couldn't afford.

"After all, Tristan didn't want Priscilla to worry about him, so the only feasible idea he had right now was to ask her to tell him a story." "Meanwhile, Priscilla lowered her head and pondered. What should she tell him?" "After thinking for a long time, she still couldn't figure it out." "She didn't have a good childhood, and the stories that her mother used to tell her were only nursery rhymes. After her mother's death, she never read fairy tales or books because she didn't want to think about her mother. Hence, Tristan's request was somewhat difficult for her." "However, since Tristan wanted to listen to a story, she would not reject him. After thinking for a while, she said, ""Why don't

"I need shelter. I need weapons. And I need a way to the Western Coast." "The Coast?" Garrick laughed. "There is nothing on the Coast but ruins and storms." "There are ships," Tristan said. "Smugglers." "And where do you plan to go?" "To the Shattered Isles," Tristan said. "To gather an army." Garrick spat on the ground. "You will find no army there. Only pirates and ghosts." "Then I will recruit the ghosts," Tristan said steadily. Ora spoke up. "You ask much, son of Vala. You come to us with the blood of our enemy in your veins, and you ask us to bleed for you."

“The Goddess’s greatest gift.” “Exactly,” I said, my voice quieter now. “Elara made it sound so beautiful. Two souls, created together, separated only so they could find each other again. No matter how far they had to search.” Tristan’s hand found mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “She always did have a way with stories.” “She also told me,” I added, my grin returning, “that you were the worst student she ever had when it came to history lessons.” Tristan groaned, head falling back slightly. “Of course she did.”

He promised that even if things can hurt, he’ll tell me about it honestly. If I am to believe father’s stories today though, that means Tristan could easily lie and manipulate people. He could say one thing and do another. What am I supposed to grasp at if that’s the case? This growing love for him - where can I possibly attach it to if everything turned out to be a hoax? Is it okay to simply trust my burning desires for him and his desires for me? Sometimes, I am afraid that what attracted us to one another were just these mere desires and nothing more…