Novel & Cerita Viking Oc

“I guard what’s mine.” The word mine makes my omega whimper sharply. “I don’t..” I start, panic spiking. Asmodeus immediately takes a step back. “Not you,” he clarifies calmly. “Not unless you choose.” I sag slightly, breathing hard. Viking is last and he slides off the table smoothly, long blonde hair shifting over his shoulders. His yellow eyes are sharp but not cruel they are ancient, assessing. “Viking,” he says. “I am the Secretary and an Alpha dragon.”

In the center stood a massive obsidian desk covered in floating holographic displays showing live feeds of every sector in Oakhaven. Standing by the window, his hands folded neatly behind his back, was Director Vane. He wore a tailored dark suit, his grey hair neatly slicked back. He looked completely composed, as if the massive riots burning outside his windows were nothing more than a mild inconvenience. "You took longer than I expected, Maya," Vane said, slowly turning around to face us. His grey eyes were sharp, cold, and piercing. Leo instantly stepped forward, raising his pulse stunner and aiming it straight at Vane’s chest. "Step away from the control console, Vane! It's over. The cit

“Wulfric?” I nodded. “Fuck, man, I didn’t realize this was your pack. You look like shit.” His eyes darted upward, in a mindlink, then he shifted back into his wolf form. Another wolf came sprinting over—a female one. And that was when I realized that the scent of the wolf that was able to survive in cold water was this other wolf’s. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t realized it was a female scent at the time, too concentrated on figuring out the pack it was from.

Desset Bandraken "We're all going to die!" Yorvik shouted at the harpoons as he looked around, his eyes wide with fear. Lightning struck Fenris' sky, illuminating the man's broken face. Her screams of pure terror could be heard over the wind and the thunder of the waves crashing against the ship. The rain on his face looked terrible like tears. "Remain silent!" Ragnar yelled and slapped the scared man. Shocked by the blow of a young man barely reaching adulthood, Jorvik forgot his fear for a moment and picked up the axe. Ragnar shook his head and glared at the grey-eyed old man. Jovic paused as if he understood where he was and what he was doing. They were in full view of all the soldiers at

Vibrations traveling up my shins. I flinched. Expecting an attack. Instead, I felt a wave of familiar temperatures. To my left, the air dropped below freezing. Frost bloomed instantly on the sand in a jagged circle. Wolfy Vance straightened up from his landing crouch. His pristine suit unruffled. His sniper rifle held casually across his chest. To my right, the air turned hot. Smelling of woodsmoke and wild rain. Viggo Rorik rose to his full height. Hefting his massive warhammer. He wasn't smiling. His face was a mask of savage, protective fury.

Relief, brief and intoxicating, washed over me as I saw the red percentages next to the Viking Group’s stock. It was true. The public was eating her alive. I sank heavily into a nearby leather chair, my shoulders dropping as I scrolled through the chaotic feeds, feeling a smug satisfaction return to my chest. They were taking damage. Killian, especially. Then, my thumb froze. A fresh press release from the official Vikings Group account popped up at the very top of my timeline, a minimalist graphic that stood out like a death warrant. > OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: Live Press Conference with Elara Viking. Today at 08:00 AM. Universal Streaming Access.

He stopped and thought for a moment, turned his head to Luca, “Please tell me you mean back to where Vikings come from, what Scandinavia?” “Yes, No, I mean, I have no idea how to time travel. I am from an area that is now called Norway. Most people in this area look a lot different from me.” He laughed, a deep dark laugh that sounded jaded. “After a Viking raid in Africa, apparently Odin found comfort in the arms of the warrior princess Zuri…generations later, I was born. “I guess I always pictured Vikings to be of fairer complexion,” Katalea offered, “and wearing the helmets with the two horns.”

He yanked my hair, dragging my head back as he whispered, voice dripping with venom, “You’re a worthless wolf that I use whenever I like. You are lower than a slave. You have no right to fight back. You have no right to speak. You are a wolfless, barren omega.” His words sliced deeper than his hands ever could. My chest tightened. Rage simmered beneath my skin, burning me alive. He finally released my hair, shoving me backward. I lifted my head, my teeth clenched. My fists trembled at my sides as I whispered, “Reject me then.”

Blade shouted, It was not a request, it was an order. Bella Manchor was the omega to the air winder pack, she was not just an omega, she was a wolf less werewolf. Her life was difficult, but became like hell when she got mated to the most wicked, arrogant, deadly and vile alpha, alpha Lucas, who used her for his sexual pleasures and afterwards, rejected her, but as fate may have it, she ran away from the pack, running into the hands of the vampires.

Soreness filled me and there was no energy left for tears. There was a tiny hole underneath the cloak blindfolding me. It breezed up due to continuous oscillation. The first thing my eyes narrowly saw was a tattoo of an anchor on the top right side of his chest. It was a little different. The arm and fluke were just like flaming swords and the shank was painted like a white-bearded old man with his mustache flagging on both edges. There was a last pound and I felt his spill inside of me. I became dizzy and my vagina became even sorer when he was done.