บททั้งหมดของ The Chronicles of Wolves and Fire: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Vergel shoved the other white curtain at his friend, and it took Finn a second to understand what Vergel wanted him to do with it. When the three of them were nicely covered up, Pearl finally looked at them. Vergel’s hair was nearly as fiery as his fur was. Finn was as dark as his own wolf. Sculpted lines veered down his body just like the other two men. Ethan, on the other hand, was the biggest of the three. He was the most magnificent of them all, a serious-faced alpha among them. They looked like they were built for destruction and power, but also beauty and grace. It was an odd sort of mixture that she had never really seen before. The three gigantic wolves turned into the lycan warriors she met before. Well, at least no one knew she was the princess. "You guys can shift back though, right?" Pearl asked. She was mentally trying to figure out how she could present these three to Alec and still get paid... "Of course we can." Vergel nodded, his jaw locking firmly back in place. T

In the early morning dawn, at the village square, miles from Pearl’s cabin, the scent of blood carried on the thin, wintry breeze. It was faint, fresh, a coppery tickle in the nostrils of the lycan warrior who leaped soundlessly from the roof of one dusk-shadow building to another. It had been hours since Ethan started hunting again, and still he didn't have any idea about his real mission: to either look for the missing princess or guard the woman who saved them.Snowflakes fell around him like floating white ash, blanketing the village that spread out beneath him some two stories down.Ethan crouched on the ledge and surveyed the tangle of bustling streets and alleyways. As one of the high-ranking warriors—a small cadre of lycans engaged in war against their savage brethren, the Rogues—Ethan’s primary objective was to deal death to his enemies. It was something he did with cold efficiency, a skill perfected during his more than seven centuries of existence. But down to his marrow, he

Fire Kingdom Commander Jefferson’s Manor Sir Jefferson Reynolds, also known as Commander of the Fire King's elite warriors, was the king’s most trusted ally and had organised a banquet at his manor. It was the exact and adequate thing to do, given that a couple of well-connected alchemist officials of the kingdom had managed to secure him a favourable post-war political position in the kingdom's politics. Unknown to the lords and noble aristocrats, winning the wars has been possible because of the mighty commander's intervention. However, the previous war between werewolves, faeries, and alchemists has been going on for ages, and a treaty has ended because of the expansion of Fire Kingdom warriors and the end of the lycans' rebellions that killed the Lycan King and captured his beloved sons. Alpha Ethan, and Vergel. Now that he knew that the two deadliest lycan warriors had been imprisoned in the magical box in the dungeon in the Fire King’s castle, Commander Jefferson began to lay

Elizabeth bestowed a wry smile as she hurried into the dining room and took her place at the table. The naughty little whore's cheeks had surged with scarlet color. Shortly, Henry returned and took his seat. On his left was some old elf count who appeared half-asleep. He didn't know the count's name; he was an alchemist magistrate friend of Commander Jefferson, clothed in silver and wearing a left-old-style wig, which had long gone out of fashion. On Lord Henry's right was the young Elizabeth. "I take it you are now properly relieved, my lord?" Elizabeth shyly asked. "Um, yes, thank you, dear," he answered back. The first course was enacted without incident, but Elizabeth was thirsty for something else. Something massive and hard. "You've done so many impressive things for the kingdom, my lord. Words cannot rationalize how much I admire you," she proceeded, complimenting him off the scale. "My dear Elizabeth, you're making me flush indeed," he retorted, smirking and fixing his coa

Raymond’s opponent thrust his blade forward, only to be met by his. Both swords clashed in the air with a resounding clang from Raymond's blade. The man was a master swordsman. Raymond was tiring, and his head was pounding. He brought a fist to the robber's face, snapping his nose into a grotesque look.With renewed passion, Raymond split his blade back and forth. While his opponent charged with a mighty scream. Raymond swerved to the side in one fluid motion when his enemy swiveled in his direction. He wasn't, after all, an expert swordsman. But he needed to deliver a message to Commander Jefferson, yet the latter was unconscious, so he went to the commander's eldest daughter. Elizabeth.And in that frozen second between the draw and fighting, Elizabeth saw the masked rogue's eyes flick from her to Raymond. Their faces were doubtful, without fear or an invitational scowl. When it comes to the fight, there's no honor, no code. All that matters is triumph, and their foe takes nothing f