Vander Arcane Novels & Stories

"He smiled when our Alpha refused him. Like he'd expected it. Like he wanted an excuse." "Did he give a name?" "Marcus," Sarah said. Then quickly added, "But not Marcus the Red. A different Marcus. He introduced himself as Marcus Vane, a collector of rare things." Dante, who'd been listening, went rigid. "Vane. That's an old name. An ancient bloodline thought to be extinct." "You know it?" Aria asked. "Stories only. The Vane family were practitioners of dark magic centuries ago. They experimented on wolves, trying to create the perfect warrior. The Bloodborn were supposedly their creation." Dante's expression was grim. "If a Vane has resurfaced and is recreating his ancestors' work..."

He was beautiful in the way venomous things often were—elegant, dangerous, impossible to mistake for safe. Edric did not seem surprised by the interruption. “Do you intend to challenge academy law, Kaeldryn?” So that was his name, Kaeldryn Voss. It fit him too well. Kaeldryn’s expression did not change. “I intend to question whether binding an unknown entity to ancient magic is wise.” Unknown entity, Virelle’s jaw tightened. The wolf moved before she could say anything. “Enough,” he said, his voice low and rough, carrying a warning beneath it.

VANE: ANG TRAIDOR SA LIWANAG ​Sa gitna ng kanilang pagkamangha, isang malakas na pagyanig ang naganap. Ang kisame ng hall ay nabutas at mula roon ay bumaba ang anim na tactical ships ng "Project Icarus." ​Si Dr. Aris Vane ay lumabas mula sa pangunahing barko, suot ang isang armor na gawa sa ginto at itim na chrome. Sa kanyang kamay ay hawak niya ang "Icarus Lance"—isang device na kayang humigop ng memorya at DNA sa isang iglap.

Nine was their sacred number since it connected the nine realms that existed within Yggdrasil. “I choose Gungnir, the great spear of Odin, Angurvadal, the stream of anguish, Gram, who brought death to Fafnir, Freyr’s sword, to fight when I am weak, Dáinsleif, to inflict wounds that never heal, Lævateinn, so that my step will never falter, Skofnung, the supernatural blade, Hǫfuð, the great sword of Heimdall and lastly Mjolnir.” Malachi chose his nine gifts and the rest were returned to the vault. These gifts would be sent to his house in Seward and he knew Jessica would banish them to his study.

He waved a hand across the surface, and an image appeared, Fenric, standing within the broken circle, the ritual complete, the thread awakened. “Too late,” said Elder Brenna, her voice brittle. “He has remembered.” Vareth did not look at her. “He was not supposed to reach the mountain.” “He had help,” Elder Solen said. “The Moonforged. The Threadbinder. And the Wild Fang.” “Then they will burn with him,” Vareth replied.

I ask, though I'm afraid I already know. "It means," Velindra says slowly, "that right now, she reads as completely human to me." Billy's face goes white. "That's impossible. She's the Primarch Arcana—she can't just lose her magic." "You're right," Velindra nods. "A witch doesn't simply become human, no matter how weakened. We're different species entirely." She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "Which means thst her powers were sealed and she is now being camouflaged a a human."

"I won't let them harm us." Aunt Cleo's voice sliced through the air like a warning bell, her words laced with urgency and gravity. "Aqua, you need to grasp the true threat of the coven. They're not just ordinary casters. Each possesses unique abilities, ranging from unnaturally swift regeneration and inhuman strength to the sinister power to manipulate creatures and even people, turning them into spies. Some even boast of an unnerving form of immortality, extending their lives far beyond the natural order. And worst of all, they have the terrifying capability to absorb the powers of other casters."

The Dark Messenger landed on the ground, making a yanking gesture as the black palm pulled Wilbur toward the Dark Messenger. The Dark Messenger gritted his teeth as he stared at Wilbur. "You're not getting away this time! I'm going to kill you this very instant!" "Wait!" Wilbur held back the tremendous pain pulsing through his body as he said, "Honorable Dark Messenger, do you know what an arcane formation is?" "An arcane formation? Why would a lower dimension cultivator like you know about arcane formations? What do you have to do with them?" "The sixth dragon cauldron fragment is hidden in an arcane formation, and it's right here. Would you like to enter it, Honorable Dark Messenger?"

She signed and said it is only a person who has seen many deaths that can tell you the location of the wind. Strange woman, indeed she was but she opened up with time and shared her story. My name is Morgana and my parents are half witches and vampires, we all lived in a small town where Amelia found her mate(werewolf). We never met him or knew of his pack because he was so mysterious one day he carried Amelia and we never saw her again.

ORDER OF THE BLESSED AS GIFTED BY THE HEAVENS Etheral Scorchers; Blaze Bringers Siroccians; Air weavers Terramancer; Earth Healers; Water manipulator Anatom Diremages; control the heartbeats and the blood Veilwalkers; clone people bodies and powers Healers; heal the body Elemental Cinders; they fix things *************-*************** ARWYN Wyrm Town... Beneath my nails, traces of dirt linger from my daring descent down the chimney of the brick-layered fabric store two nights ago. The worth of that venture now weighs on me as I sit in the dimly lit room of the same establishment, anticipation thick in the air.