Warlock Smith Novel Novels & Stories

The big black horses barely made any sound, there was no conversation among the big guards who had large scary tattoos around them. Leading the guards, were four people on black horses; Demenicus Darke, the alpha of the skull pack, Simion and Euvene Darke, the alpha first twin sons, and lastly Reven. F. Darke, the bastard last son of the alpha, who was known by other packs as the Deathkeeper, because of his brutality and savagery.

This had to be the longest I'd spoken since I became human and it was funny that the person who broke my silence was Motty, a true mouther in the making, albeit a smart one although what he was currently saying wasn't an answer to my questions. "One cannot choose. A wolf and a man, or A werewolf. Read the mythologies surrounding those species." He stood up, towering over me and he hazed down at my phone. "And maybe, don't smile at your phone like you're actually chatting with someone. It's G****e, the whole world's information whore. You make the mistake of thinking you're all he has." He winked at me and then turned around, walking back the way he came.

Gray still asks for a bazooka, - I added, winking at Nikita. - Went to war on the city? Yana laughed. - Would you like to join? I asked dismissively. Weapons are weapons, but I also needed fighters. The she-wolf with her guys was a strong player with her own autonomy for the arms business and, having lured her to her side (of course, on favorable terms), only Ibragimov remained on the list of my competitors for the place of the mistress of the city. At least those competitors who were real.

The thing was as big as a horse and heavily corded with muscle one could clearly see rippling through the beast’s beautiful silky fur. Almera casually rose to her feet as the wolf approached. "It’s okay, Pearl; it’s just a guardian warrior." "What’s a guardian warrior?" She was still backing toward the house. "He’s the head lycan, ruling alongside the elder." So this was a Lycan warrior. Oh, god. Timothy came to a stop before Almera, and the air around him shimmered. A moment later, a huge, gorgeous, dark haired man stood before them.

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?

Warlock POV “It is about damn time you both finished, that was a sickening display, I must say Sarah,” the warlock says to me. I slide off Jack and grab the sheet up to cover my nakedness. Jack jumps out of bed before I can stop him. I toss up a protection spell, which causes the warlock to look at me.

And the hand-drawn pictures showed magnificent animals, sometimes poised on a rock in the moonlight, other times racing through woods. The first chapters of the book were devoted to the history of shifters and the explanation of the Slavic term for them, vlkodlak. Now why did that suddenly sound familiar to her? Of course! Her neighbor, Mike Volka. He'd said his ancestry was Slavic. Was that the reason for his interest in werewolves? She needed to get the book out again and get back into it. She replaced what she called her library clothes with sweats and a long-sleeved tee shirt, leaving off her bra, a treat she gave herself in the privacy of her own home. Then she fed Mischief, fixed herse

I'm made of sharp edges and vengeance, and I will not crumble. "Eleven years. You should be more informed," I snap. It's a foolish mistake to irritate a Warrior, but I'm tired of being undermined and treated as a disposable toy. He clenches his fists. He's the perfect impersonation of danger, and for the first time, I wonder who exactly I'm dealing with here. "Careful," the word barely escapes his gritted teeth. "We're done here. I will only answer to your Alpha," my voice comes out cold and detached.

Without the ability to heal, I knew I couldn’t win this battle. I needed Mr. Smith’s dark magic. With him, no one would be able to take any more from me. I would become invincible. My arms struck out and caught a warrior wolf of the traitor’s new pack racing by. I twisted its body in the air until I heard a snap, then tossed the wolf at the dark gray wolf and Rome, causing them to stop their pursuit as they anticipated the collision. I raced off as their warrior stuck the dark gray one’s back.

The night brought darkness into Enrilth Castle, and only the light of the fireplace helped him to see the warlord’s pleased face above him, his strong arms gripping his waist. He did not understand much of it before, of the feeling he got when Alarick was away, of the warmth seen in the warlord’s eyes when he looked at him, or the pure pleasure he felt when he was touched where no man should be touched. That’s when he knew what Dalli meant. The real meaning. Dalli meant whore. At least for him, that was his place. A warm body for Alarick to sink into. And that’s how a Dalli makes a Warlord a happy man.