Viktor Krum Novels & Stories

Damor also rose the next second and faced Alpha Viktor Silverado and the beta men he brought along, standing in the office. Viktor was the alpha of the Crimson Moon Pack, which was in Langfield, south of the city, and a seven-hour drive away. He had ruled the Crimson Moon Pack for the last decade as its strongest alpha since its formation over a century ago. He didn’t have a notorious record, as he didn’t go around terrorising those weaker than him, but he didn’t have a perfectly clean record, either. He had been known for the brutal eradication of those he regarded as enemies in the past. In the battle that took place over two years ago, he was one of the Alphas that didn’t side with Alpha

The journey gave us so much and brought us so much more. "I'm so proud of us," I said out loud. "Me too. We gave up a lot, but we got a lot in return. We were destined to rule Godric, and we had proven that every single day." A soft knock pulled my attention back to the office. Balthazar stood in the doorway looking as tasty as ever. His hair was a slight mess, and his tie was pulled apart and hanging around his neck. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up, exposing his tattoos. He did them a year after my crowning. He wanted to show the unity our joining brought to the world. His left arm had a dragon curled around his forearm, blowing flames at the m

The company was accused of plagiarism and infringement. Dana was not planning to stay idle throughout her stay in California so she decided to research about the CRUZ company. It was created by the Cruz couple and when Manuel died, Henry took over as the CEO. Dana had to confess that she had been hearing of the CRUZ company in the past years during her stay in Italy. Their works were distributed worldwide and sold in many different countries. Their designs were superb and so were the paintings which were made by their first son.

he said sincerely and I nodded. "Viktor is an honorable man then," I asked again because if he hesitated, I'd break into Viktor's room and drag my son away, no matter what the two were doing. Vlad nodded and said that Viktor was a Slovakian tsar from the fifteenth century and his last name is Pokrvný and it's associated with blood in his home country. "I'm certain your father Mikhail knew him and if I recall they grew up together in Russia," he added and I shrugged not caring about anything to do with my late father.

“Who presents this newest member to the pack?” Richard asked as he stood on the dais. The pack members were all seated at the tables and I stood next to Kiran. “I, Kiran Sinclair, Alpha of the Southern Alaskan Pack,” he answered. “Present your member to the pack,” Richard said to him. “I present Levi Montgomery Sinclair, son of Georgina Sinclair, taken at the age of two and raised human and unaware, born of the Southern Alaskan pack under Female Alpha Georgina Sinclair,” Kiran said.

Of course he was. “And this power, how do you intend to help me get it?” A moment of silence stretched between us. Minutes passed and he still stared at me absentmindedly like he was in deep thought. With a heave of a shaky breath, he rose from his seat as her ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. “The pakhan of Russian Bratva. Viktor Nikolai Advik.” The glass in my hand shattered, my blood trickled down my clothed thigh, my eyes stayed widened and unblinking and I remained unmoving.

A name flashing across the screen. Wiktor.

He broke out in cold sweat, a rebel to Noah's composed form. The man was Van Arik Leichtenberg, the notoriously famed second-in-commad of of Orgur Kosotva. Orgut Kostova was the most influential member of communion, his brand on all eastern European territories remained a token of his power. He was very passive too. Because Van Arik saw to it. Leichtenberg was himself German, and aptly named; his last name meant "pile-of-corpses". The man stared at Noah a full minute before speaking,

Two men stood next to Victor, and their presence sent a spurt of frozen adrenaline through his system. To his right, there sat Dmitri Volkov, the notorious "Tsar of Siberian Gas." The granite-jawed mogul with a track record for crushing competitors with the tacit support of the Kremlin. He was oligarchy personified—Politically unstoppable, pitiless, and wallowing in mineral wealth.