Who Is Ezra In Star Wars Novels & Stories

EZRA I stand before the Twelve. Behind them, the Seven Chiefs perch like crows on a wire, judging, watching, waiting. The room is cold. Too quiet. Like the air itself is holding its breath. I cross my arms, staring up at them, refusing to bow. I’m already halfway buried so there's no need to bend. Lord Naskai is the first to speak. “Ezra Vale, first turned, son of the Abyss, wielder of the Old Flame—”

Alpha James paused as he noticed all the warriors staring at the door. Following their gaze, Alpha James saw Ezra walking toward the board. He frowned as Ezra stood in front of the board, and the warriors made way for him. "What's the plan, Alpha?" one of the warriors asked. Ezra rested his hand on the board without making eye contact with his father.

"But all our men are dead. Who the hell did this? Are we just going to let this slide?" Marcelo replied indifferently, "It doesn't matter who did it. In the end, they'll all have to die! I underestimated Andrew, that's for sure!" The driver kept swallowing hard, thinking this was not just a case of underestimating Andrew. Ezra was a genuine martial king. He was fierce and battle-hardened, and he was not someone ordinary martial artists could handle. Yet now, he was just lying there on the ground, his corpse probably stone cold by now.

He didn’t need to speak a word, they wrapped their arms around him and they disappeared from the field, leaving large areas of it decayed. Ezra tapped his leg lightly with his fingers, he was anxious to know the outcome of Abaddon’s fight. He hated his subordinate for one thing, his big mouth. He could brag and do absolutely nothing to show for it only for him to beg later. So many times he was tempted to eradicate him, but he didn’t want to beg his father for anything ever again not even something as small as a new servant.

At the front of the detachment sat Ezra. He was not wearing his formal prince's attire or the diplomatic colors of an envoy. He wore scarred battle leather, his dark hair whipped by the mountain wind, two heavy blades strapped across his chest. He looked down from his mount at the dozens of rifles aimed at his heart with the cold, bored contempt of an immortal predator. Then his silver eyes found me emerging from the cluster of tents. He stared at my face... at the molten gold burning in my irises, at the blood soaking through the fresh white bandage wrapped around my left palm.

Ezra stepped in, his radiant smile as bright as ever, his arms spread wide. “Ah, what a cozy little gathering we have here! Did you miss me?” I chuckled, already used to his grand entrances. “Ezra, you really need to learn how to knock” He placed a hand on his chest dramatically. “Knock? When the moon goddess’s protector visits? I think not” Everyone stared at him in surprise. Alex raised an eyebrow, already sensing the playful energy that Ezra radiated. I stood up, motioning to the group. “Everyone, meet Ezra. He’s… well, let’s just say he’s the watcher who sent us the message scroll, and he’s also our self-proclaimed protector” Ezra gave a flamboyant bow, grinning widely.

’ I asked through the mindlink. I had left him a few texts, which he hadn’t even seen. ‘Yup, never been better,’ he said, glancing towards me. Ezra took his seat between me and Asher with a seat empty beside him. Ezra slept around a lot with several women. A few of those women were rumored to be his possible luna candidate, but Ezra neither acknowledged those rumors nor denied them. Therefore, there had been a lot of confusion around his luna candidate.

“Oh they haven’t told you yet. He didn’t make it.” I felt a chill wash over me. I saw this coming, but I had hoped.... Ezra was not just a soldier, he was my friend. Growing up, he was one of the few people alongside Fang and Kene, that weren’t scared of me. We used to spar together. I had promised his mate, Nena, that I would always look after him, now I was going to tell her that I failed and her mate was dead. Selene rubbed my arms. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said as though reading my mind.

Exactly this. ….. I saw Kian's eyes shift first, moving to something behind me, and I turned. Ezra. Standing in the doorway in his pajamas, hair in complete chaos from the sofa cushions, elephant under one arm, blinking at us with the slow careful focus of someone who had recently been asleep and was now conducting an assessment of the situation. He looked at me. He looked at Kian. Then he crossed the kitchen. He stopped between us and put one hand on my leg and one hand on Kian's and looked between our faces with the serious eyes that were so completely his father's that it still caught me every time.

What it meant that the fourth figure in this version wasn't the killer but something else entirely. Behind me, the cellar door at the top of the stairs opened. I turned. Ezra stood at the top, looking down at all of us gathered around the tablet. He wasn't surprised. He didn't have the posture of a man who had been caught or followed or found out. He had the posture of someone who had been patient for a very long time and had just watched the last piece of something fall into place. "I was wondering how long it would take you to find it," he said.