Ultra Magnus X Rodimus Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Do not waste your tears. You should be proud. You have done what no Council could. You woke another Ancient. You gave him to me.” Damon let out a scream, his body arching as light burst from his chest. The runes flared so bright they hurt my eyes. For one second I thought he would break apart. Magnus smiled wide. “Yes. Give in. Become mine.” “No!” I choked out, my voice hoarse. “He is not yours!” Magnus tilted his head, his grip on me tightening until black spots swam in my vision. “Everything becomes mine, little flame. Even you.”

He was shocked too but after a second, he went back to his normal state. He approached his office chair and sat. He looked at me then smirked. "What a small world Clark Clarkson..." "Penniless?" he mocked and chuckled while staring at my face. The man in front of me was no other than Mr. Montenegro. The man who was chasing Magda before in the club. The day I saved Magda from him. I remembered the words I said, like threatening him to pull out his shares in our car company. I shut my eyes and then open them again.

"You're not alone in this, Aqua. We're family, and we'll get through anything together." Aqua said goodbye to her grandmother and headed to school. As Aqua stepped outside the gate, she saw Damon standing beside his truck, the sunlight casting a golden glow over his dark skin, which gleamed with a healthy sheen. His tall, athletic frame was impossible to miss, exuding both strength and grace. Standing at 6'3", Damon was the epitome of physical perfection, his broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist, every muscle sculpted as if by an artist's hand.

Damien pressed the blade deeper. Blood welled. "Wrong answer." Silence. Then the rogue's lips trembled. "Magnus," he gasped. "Magnus sent us. To get Rook out. To silence him before he talks." Damien's jaw tightened. A cold, grim satisfaction settled in his chest. "Too late." He released the rogue's hair, letting the man's face hit the mud, and stood. Around him, the strike team was already securing the remaining captives. Four alive.

Not after what had happened. Mom had also called a couple times. I remembered why I had gone to the woods in the first place; our fight. Well, she had wanted me to settle down, she’d gotten her wish now. Ironically, my mate was a rogue, a werewolf's pack's natural enemy. I noticed the men on the ground and remembered what had happened. She’d taken them down so expertly that I wondered how she got into the situation in the first place, how they’d managed to ambush her.

I bowed my head in defeat. "Why must you be so cruel to me?" BANG! I felt thick liquid pour onto my lap and my heart stopped for a moment. In front of me was a tall muscular man with long dirty brown hair and light brown eyes. His face was graceful but… in his right hand was the rogue from earlier who was taunting me. The muscles in his face were scrunched up and his head was bleeding. "Finally," The man spoke and I felt my body tingle with goosebumps. "I find my kill." With that, he crushed the man's head with his fist and it exploded, leaving behind splatters of blood as he tossed the body aside.

Baselroth peered down and shook her head. "Lower demons?" Momodaeus repeated, scoffing as he did a free fall to the rocky molten lava below. "Someday, you'll lose your ability to fly!" Baselroth said and Momodaeus stuck out his middle finger at her. She watched him float down as if he had an invincible parachute and he landed perfectly on one of the rocks.

That certainty showed in Magnus' calm smile. "Hello. You must be Cyrus." Cyrus felt no warmth toward him. The man appeared gentle and refined, but after hearing Ilyana's account of the West Ridge Base, Cyrus knew exactly how ruthless he was. "You're the leader of the West Ridge Order?" Cyrus replied evenly, a polite but cold smile on his face. "How should I address you?" "My name is Magnus Blackwell." "Mr. Blackwell," Cyrus said lightly. "What brings you to me today?"

Dimitri could tell that they had been having some fun by the look on Majesta’s face, a lot of fun. Majesta would have been as red as a lobster if she had fed. Dimitri cleared his throat and smiled at the two as they took their seats. “I know that you don’t need names, Magnusson, but Majesta does. Drago is the one with the long, gray hair. Don’t let it fool you, he is not that old. Genevieve is the slim blonde beside him, and Titus is the giant beside you.” Dimitri nodded to each of the elders in turn. They all nodded to Majesta as they were named.

Temujin tugged and the weapon flew back to him. Meanwhile, Magnar had continued his slide all the way to the end of the ring and, without decreasing speed, hurtled up the wall and then kicked off, executing a back flip that dropped him right in front of Temujin. He landed on one foot with surprising grace, bringing down his two swords with him. Fortunately, Temujin was ready and blocked both sword chops with his scythe and chain, which were still red-hot from all the flames. Magnar kicked off again and slid backwards. If his boot blades weren’t visible, it would seem as though he was levitating on ice. He may be huge but he wasn’t slow at all. On his mother element, he was as light-footed a