Warlock Names Novels & Stories

the guard shouted, turning around and looking at a girl with a woman who looked rather big She was crying and trying to stand up, but her leg was not helping, and on top of that, the guard screamed at them because of her His heart beat so fast he heard his wolf Mars say snarl "mate" Now I suffer for your pain , but then I will kill everyone who Altum Meaning ' winged wolves' in Latin Inferos _ Zayn Malik's flock _ inferos Meaning ' wolves of hell' in Latin Ardena - the heroine - means ' sanctuary ' in Latin March _ wolf zayn malik _ meaning 'Gods of War'

A man reaches out to grab my arm tightly and yanks the knife out of my hand and pulls me to his chest. "Such a shame, I would have really loved to get to know such a woman". Dumbstruck I am unable to speak. I hear my father from behind me clear his throat. "Calliope, meet Alexander Bathory. Head of the warlock council, son of the covenant leader Constantine Bathory.... and your betrothed".

Aragorn snapped at him, turning towards the witch lady and signalling her to go ahead. She inclined her head slightly. “Selvara, keeper of spells that could turn entire packs to ash, not a brag though." The werewolf king growled in a deep voice. “Fenric, Alpha of the Eastern Lands.” And the warriors? They remained silent, as Aragorn spoke for them. “The finest blades ever trained. Loyal only to me.” I nodded at each, feigning polite interest, while inside I tried so hard to hold onto their names, because of what use is it? When they will all be dead by the end of the day?

Brodi huffed out a breath, shocked at his own ineptitude in getting a simple point across. He glanced back up at her and saw a glimmer of humor in her green eyes. She was laughing at him. At him! He sat up a little straighter not sure how to react. The Alpha in him wanted to be insulted and act accordingly, but making his mate happy, even at his own expense, gave him a warm feeling in his middle. He wasn't used to all these conflicting emotions. He cleared his throat before starting to speak again. "Yes, well…" "You know your name is old Norse, yes?" Kelda interrupted. "Fenrir. A son of the god, Loki. It's a very powerful name. A very powerful wolf."

I answered shortly, not giving her much to work with. She seemed to pick up on it, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Do you have a code name?" she asked, her curiosity growing. "Umm, yes." Shit. If she asks me what it is, what do I say? I was a lead warrior, but I wasn’t a ranked member. Why the hell did I lie just now? I was confused by my own behavior. "Can I know what it is?" she asked cautiously, her voice soft but eager. "Umm, usually it’s… Delta."

“Let’s start throwing out ideas and see what sticks.” “Okay,” Isolde said, leaning forward with interest. “If they’re dragons, maybe something powerful like Pyra and Draven.” “Or if they’re wolves,” Cheyenne added, “something classic and moonlit. Like Lune or Fenric.” Tora covered her face with her hands. “You guys are going to give them identity crises before they’re even born.” Chelsea was already on a roll. “If one’s a boy, I vote we name him Brimstone. Brim for short.”

Coal screamed into Ravi's head and he felt an oncoming headache. "Is this how you want to play it Coal? You sure we can't come to a compromise?" Ravi asked softly still closing in the rampant wolf who was trying to come out. "I won't bottom for another wolf!" Coal said as he struggled and Ravi didn't even use a lot of power to close the wolf in. "You see coal, what you seem to have forgotten is that I was, and still I'm, the greatest warlock to ever hold the Order of Merlin. Know what that means?

he shrugged and took the water bottle from Yara. "Thank you," he said to her and drank it whole. "I so much despise this Gora," she announced while riding up the stairs with Zaviar and Yara flanking her. "The Pakistani boys are much better than them." "Just because you couldn't have colorful eyes and blonde hair doesn't mean you should be jealous of the one having." She locomoted her body to look at the face of none other than Abraham Chauhdry. He was standing two steps behind her. His electric green eyes were contracted into narrow slits due to bright sunlight. His blonde hair shimmered in the sunshine. Minahil was too busy glaring at him

He took only three of each group as these were very good at their job. Amongst the warlocks was one from the far land of Azania. He stood out because of his stature and complexion. As well as his skills and prowess. His name was Mtungagore. Harold had recently recruited him. He had heard of his accomplishments and he brought him to his side. Hades convinced him that the wolves were planning on wiping out all the other races. That was enough to draw him closer. However, Mtungagore was more than he let out. He had more abilities than he let out. He could control three elements as well as delve into the innermost parts of one's soul. Of course this he kept hidden from Hades.

This man was the devil dressed in sheep’s clothing. “Finally sweet Sarah, you have arrived. I have been waiting for you,” the man steps forward. “Who are you?” I ask. “Why I am the warlock, the mighty fine warlock,” he starts to chant with a chuckle. “What is your name?” I ask. He looks at me annoyed I had interrupted his verbiage. “My name is Darren sweet Sarah, or you can call me master,” he offers.