True Blood The Magister Novels & Stories

Huh? "You're my slave. My personal slave and I'm the master here. I use you the way I want. Now, do your job if you don't want to regret having a tongue." He stated to her icily and stretched his arms out again as Sophia swallowed the lump down her throat and loosed his robe's belt, undressing him. "Now, that's a good girl." Ice Pick made a small silly smile and smirked. She finished taking off his clothes including the briefs he was putting on as he stood huge and naked before him with tattoos on his right arm and below his abdomen.

And then realization crashed into them. “No…” His voice was raw, horrified. He lifted his hand and stared at the smear of her blood across his fingers. “I… what have I…” “You lost control in my hall.” Magister Caelum’s voice was calm, but it was the dangerous calm of a storm eye. “Before the eyes of your peers.” The silence was suffocating. Dozens of students were staring, whispers trembling like wind through reeds. “He bit her.” “Her blood… did you see how he…”

Vibrant green eyes landed on me and Hunter next to me. He smelled human. My eyes narrowed on him. Why is Magus out here secretly meeting with humans? I suddenly wondered if Hunter and I were the ones really betraying the Alpha. “Who is he?” I asked Magus. Magus gave me a sharp look. “An old friend.” “The mentor?” “One of them.” Magus was walking away to meet him. “Who is he?” “Hawk, Second Commander of the Mages.” Magus shouted as he jogged to meet him. Ignoring me. They murmured together in quiet voices. Sending me furtive looks.

They would not dare kill me now that they know my worth) her heart was beating fast. "How come the zombies obeys the Master instead of us that owns the maggots?" "I hope I would get paid for all these interrogations?" He smirked. "Before our body becomes the host of these maggots, there is this chemical they insert in our wound that would determine an X-blood or not. Although the maggots are ours, there is a way that the Master does it," he stopped and glanced around the hall to make sure that no one was staring at them. "Lean closer"

I have to admit that he's an imposing figure, with his wide chest and impossibly long frame. He stoops down and grabs the woman's chin, forcing her to face him. "I am Desmond Stewart and I am your master. From now on, until I free you from this bind, your will is no longer your own. You will forget everything that happens and your mind will be clear of any words, thoughts, desires, or feelings." He is glamoring her, and I am very confused. Aren't vampires limited to one attendant each by law? The woman's eyes seem to focus and unfocus, and a few seconds later, she smiles at him.

Persuade her to submit to him before the moon. His close friend Magus took a seat next to him. Magus was a rare addition to their pack. A creature half mage-half wolf he was immensely rare. There was purportedly only one other such creature in existence. And he was allegedly the Commander of King Detry’s Mages Guild. “What are you so pensive about?” Magus queried. “Same thing you are, I’ve no doubt.” “I’m far less pensive than I should be.” Magus was trying to hide a self-satisfied smirk and failing.

The wolves shook themselves, their eyes clearing, their loyalty re-asserting itself. “There,” Elara pointed toward a central spire that reached toward the center of the Fracture. “The Spire of Weaver’s Grief. That is where he is keeping the key.” The spire was a jagged needle of black glass, surrounded by a swirling vortex of shadow. And standing at the base, his robes billowing in a wind that didn't exist, was the High Magister. He wasn't alone. He was flanked by twelve Wraiths—shadowy versions of the Casters they had fought at the Siphon, their forms flickering like dying candles.

This is Ronan wanting this as much as he does. “C-Can I, m-master—” That made Cross grin evilly. He knows that Ronan just slipped out but he wants that now. “That’s right, call me Master Cross, Doc Ronan.” Ronan’s scent is getting more and more intense, almost as strong as what he had when his Heat came. That would mean a stronger effect on Cross. He wants to just slam his cock inside this man and fuck him the hardest but, of course, he wouldn’t. He laughs to himself because someone should really award him for having the strongest self-control even at this new scenario they are experiencing.

The Grand Magister himself, an ancient man wrapped in heavy silver silk, stood over the body, his hands shaking as he leaned on his staff. "Get the initiates locked down," the Magister whispered, his voice carrying clearly through the damp, quiet air of the conservatory. "If the town gossips get hold of this before we understand how they bypassed the blood-wards, the King will dismantle the school by nightfall." "Magister," one of the senior Sentinels said, pointing a gloved finger at Harrison’s chest. "Look at the precision. This wasn't a blade. This was... was…

He heard his aunt sigh, "Look, I'm not telling you not to search for the origin of Mages. I will see if I can find something as well. But Xav, don't consume your time and energy here alone." Xav paid no heed which made Jade glare at him, "You know very well that most of the manuscripts and books regarding dark magic and Mages had been burned like 9 centuries ago, right?" Xavier looked up at that. He knew the reason. The War had destroyed not only lives but also damaged a lot of property and to destroy evil powers, everything relating to it had been burned.