21 Savage J Cole Novels & Stories

Lily said proudly, and I nodded my head absently as I watched Savage ruffle a little kid’s head after he accepted a bottle of water and the boy grinned at him, happy with the praising looks his alpha gave him. Savage stretched a little, then he stared at what they have built appraisingly. I held my breath as I watched him take off his sweaty shirt and used it to wipe his face and chest. This was the first time I had taken a good look at the male, who was supposed to be my mate now and again. It hit me. He was huge. His back was so broad, and his muscles rippled as he moved. His blonde hair was cut short in what looked like a military cut.

As they three start making subs, I head to my office to call Alpha Hunter. It rings four times before he answers. "Alpha Hunter here," he sounds tired. "Alpha Hunter, this is Alpha Tyler Savage from Savage Pack and Biker Club. I need to speak about your beta male and his mate",he pauses so long I thought he hung up. "Yes," he sounds worried now.

Aurelia was grateful for that in a way she could not articulate. Mara sat to Aurelia’s right, jaw set, eyes sharp. She had sensed this coming hours ago. So had Aurelia. The summons had been too formal. Too collectively worded. “Thank you all for coming,” Aurelia said calmly. No one responded. She nodded once. “Let’s not pretend this is routine.” A man near the middle of the table cleared his throat. Jonah. Longtime coordinator. Thoughtful. Once brave. “There’s concern,” he began.

There was a wet, tearing sound, horrifyingly soft. For a second, everything was still. The rogue stood there, a look of profound surprise on his face. Then a dark line appeared across his throat. It welled, split, and a torrent of blood cascaded down his front. He crumpled to the filthy asphalt, a heap of rags and fading menace. The world telescoped, sound rushing back in a deafening wave. The thump of music from the club, a distant siren, the frantic beat of my own heart.

I challenged him, but he answered with a shake of his head that made me look away again. "Yes, I am Daxton Sullivan Carancho, and yes, I am the one who wants to put your parents behind bars, Savvy. That's me, and I won't hide it anymore. And yes, I'm very angry with your parents, and yes, once in my life, I thought that they should be the ones who died and not my parents," he continued to admit. But his confession is the same as stabbing my heart with a million needles. It hurts to hear that someone really wants your parents dead. It hurts that that person is still important to you.

Loves Leah but fucks Edel. I want him to be confused and stressed, who he wants to chase. Both or get rid of Edel or still want to rummage through my grave. To my dear friend, Natalie. She would suffer without money, nothing and constant humiliation. I have no conscience for either of them anymore. The pain they will feel is not just from bullets exploding into their brain or heart. That's a light punishment for those who have been rude to my parents. You will pay a heavy price for this pain!

It was calm and peaceful but almost like a whisper like there was something stuck in the speaker's throat making their voice come out as if, along with white noise. The both of them turned around to the speaker, it was none other than Jelena Savage herself! The Coalition Chieftess of the Als race!

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. I felt a presence behind me, and I knew instinctively it was Damario. "How does it feel to be exposed as imperfect?" he smirked wickedly. "How does it feel to be a failure and a disappointment?" His words ignited a spark within me, and I snapped. I punched Damario squarely across the jaw, the impact resonating through the stunned silence. Cameras flashed, capturing the moment, and I knew I'd just made a catastrophic mistake. The media would have a field day and my father would fucking killed me for dragging the Pack's down with my foolishness.

“Safe.” “Finally,” I say, snatching one of the daggers. “Something good.” We each take what we need, eat a little, and drink from the river water we filtered earlier. It almost feels calm. Then I hear it, branches breaking. Heavy footsteps. Too heavy. “Company,” I say quietly. The sound grows louder and closer. Then three hulking figures step out of the trees. Gorilla warriors, massive and armed with clubs of bone and stone. Their eyes gleam like wet coal.