Warhammer Fantasy Novels Novels & Stories

Eventually, with my arms full, I found Nicholas still in the fantasy section. He was engrossed in a thick hardcover, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Find something good?” I asked, approaching him. “Possibly. But I think you might like this one.” He handed me a paperback with an image of a woman wielding a sword on the front. I read the title aloud. “‘The Lycan Chronicles.’ Hmm, never heard of it.” “It’s a fantasy series,” he explained, still flipping through his own book. “Great world-building, complex characters...” He glanced up and smirked. “Plus, it has some... steamy scenes.”

The words seemed to leap off the page, filling the room with an eerie sense of foreboding. Everything written in the book didn't make any sense to either Stella or Morgan. They found everything in the book quite absurd. The book spoke of witches, dragons, angels, vampires, and the devil. They didn't believe in such a thing at all, weren't they just fantasy? If they were to interpret it, it only meant that Grandma Elizabeth was a witch while the stranger guy whom Stella had picked from the streets the previous night was the devil.

The crack of disruptive magic, the wet slam of bodies hitting rock, enraged wolves tearing savagely through shadow warriors, elves glowing fiercely under their protective shields, and dark fae sending sharp, electric sparks through the nightmare twilight. Everything bleeds together into a writhing, unstoppable storm. He’s talking constantly while he fights, like this is all just a mildly annoying chore he’s completing between appointments. “Give it up, hybrid,” he says dismissively, as a massive wave of dense shadows crashes violently toward me. “I genuinely don’t want you dead. That was never, ever the ultimate plan.” “I don’t care what you want, you monster!” I hiss, deflecting the attack.

Michael's back straitened. "...your mind will be destroyed. Miss Calvin will be placed in eternal servitude in one of the dungeon dreamscapes. Your mother and the girl Lucy will be killed since they have been affected by your power." Michael clenched his fist and lashed out with his will. The man stopped speaking as his throne was tossed backwards by a massive blow.

Chapter 76 is the CHAOS WAR! END OF CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

Trigger Warnings This novel contains mature, dark, and potentially distressing content, including: Graphic violence Sexual Violence Voyeurism Gore and gruesome injury descriptions Supernatural warfare and battles in Hell Use of weapons (blades, claws, fire, magical weapons) Torture and physical brutality Threats of dismemberment and monstrous transformations Non-consensual power dynamics Coercion, forced proximity, and captivity Extreme sexual content with dark elements BDSM themes, impact play, restraints, and pain-pleasure dynamics

I apologize. But for those who like it, don't forget to check my other book. I also have a new ongoing one (PULSE: A CONTRACT WITH DAMIEN.) A seven in one book. Let's give you a sneak peek shall we? Vampires -Death. Fae's - Darkness. Demons - Agony. Werewolves - Curse. Humans - Fear. Witches/ Warlocks/ and Beasts - Dark magic. DOOM(HELL) - ALL. ALL THE SPECIES AND THEIR TRIBULATIONS.

LOVING THE GAMMA - Cassandra M / January 2022 ################# AUTHOR'S NOTE This Epilogue is for the Black Shadow Pack Series as it comes to an end. On behalf of my characters, I would like to thank all of you for spending your time and coins on us. You made my dream come true, and it is an honor to create a fantasy world for all of you. You, my lovely readers, made this writing journey a wonderful experience! I hope you will continue to support me and my upcoming books. The spinoff novel (in The Arms of My Alpha) from the series is already available on the APP and is being updated daily.

I had watched father read them a few times, so no doubt I know them so well. The witch seems to follow my line of sight, as she quickly reaches beneath the map and pulls out another paper, except this one is small and light, and contains a rough sketch of what looks like some ancient, forsaken building. “It is the forbidden Castle,” she says, rolling the sheet and placing it beside a pile of heavy, dusty books at the edge of the table. “These tell tales of a once flourishing Castle spelled a long time ago by one of my irate ancestors, Marina,” Marretje adds when she sees me stare longer than necessary at the books; little does she know that I have less interest in reading.