5th Year Books Novels & Stories

“Cyber?” “You’re not going to like it Prez.” He sighed, resigned to the fact that he had to tell me whether he wanted to or not. “I can’t find any trace of Gypsy earlier than five years ago. Before that she didn't exist, or at least, it looks that way.”

A massive emerald, ringed by a halo of diamonds, sparkled in the candlelight. I shivered when his fingertips grazed my neck. “Perfect,” he whispered in my ear. “Like it was made for you.” I raised my champagne glass, trying to hide my racing heart. Orion sat across from me, his gray eyes burning into mine, threatening to melt me. It had been five years since I was reborn. Five years I’d spent by his side. I was his secret. His only woman. I knew he didn’t do marriage. But the way he looked at me, the way he made love to me… it made me hope. It made me dream that he would ask me to be his wife.

“You didn’t read all of these books?” “I read books one through five. That fifth book was when all the fighting happened between them. I don’t know why but I just kept buying the other books when they came out.” She shrugged. “I just. . .I couldn’t stop. I had to buy them.” Maddox raised his eyebrows. “Even though you didn’t want to read them?” “Exactly. It was the oddest thing.” “These are spelled.” He picked them up and turned to the author again. “This Grace Moon must be a witch.”

The bell above the bookshop door chimed softly as Ava stepped inside. The scent of old pages and steeped tea wrapped around her like an old friend. The shelves hadn’t changed much in the years since she last came. Still crooked in places. Still filled with poetry and rebellion. It had been five years since the garden. Five years since she stepped through the glass doors of the Sinclair Wolfe Foundation and whispered to herself, This time, it’s mine. And it had been five years of real, messy, beautiful work.

TIFE OKUWOBI. ONE THOUSAND YEARS ONE THOUSAND YEARS. Copyright©2020 by Tife Okuwobi. All rights reserved. No part of this book maybe used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. Address at ayooluwapelumiolorunlolope@g***l.com. TIFE OKUWOBI. ONE THOUSAND YEARS ONE THOUSAND YEARS. Copyright©2020 by Tife Okuwobi. All rights reserved. No part of this book maybe used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. Address at ayooluwapelumiolorunlolope@g***l.com.

On my journey back to the downtown district, I leaned wearily against the window. Memories of the past five years flashed in my mind. My wolf had never been so silent and couldn't even manage a whimper. I knew that just like me, she was dead and empty inside. How had I spent the past five years? For nights, I'd been alone, wrestling the restlessness and heat from the mate bond. I'd never slept a night in peace. When managing pack affairs, I'd faced the power-hungry elders' schemes alone. When patrolling the pack compounds, I'd fought off rogues in the woods alone.

He ignored the pressure from two Alphas bearing down on him and shouted at the top of his lungs, "I’m telling the truth! Wren left me five years ago, and she was already pregnant! That pup over there? He’s mine! The timeline fits perfectly! What, do you all think I’m blind?" His voice rose higher, thick with accusation. "Alpha Nolan, are you really okay with this? Raising another’s pup like your own?" I laughed. At first, it was a low chuckle, but it grew louder and louder until tears welled up at the corners of my eyes. "Oh, Aiden," I said, voice edged with scorn. "You’re still the same arrogant, delusional fool. You really don’t know, do you? That child you’ve been dreaming of, the one you

—Tracy. Beneath the caption was a video link. His hands trembled as he clicked it open. The screen filled with the image of me, painting. It was a step-by-step chronicle, from the initial pencil sketch to the meticulous finishing touches. Each stroke carried the weight of dedication and love. The version of me in the video smiled softly as I spoke to the camera. "This is my fifth-anniversary gift for my husband. Dennis Malcolm, thank you for staying by my side."

And I actually bought it. I forced a smile, but my eyes burned. "You hid it pretty well. So why tell me today?" Before Jessica could answer, Linda slammed her spoon down on the table. Her voice shook with emotion. "Because I want to see my grandson!" She took a deep breath and lowered her voice, as if trying to reason with me. "Michael, I've been good to you, haven't I? I know you're a good kid. But my grandson has been in hiding for five years, and it breaks my heart."

Zann was braiding my hair, holding a piece of candy, smiling warmly as he said, “Neve, when I grow up, I’ll build you a castle and make you the happiest princess.” Trembling, I mustered my last ounce of strength. With bloodstained fingers, I slid across the screen to send my last message. [Zann, I’m not waiting anymore. My life repays you and Wanda. Bury me with my parents.] Each word drained every ounce of energy from my body, as if pouring all the grievances, agony, and despair of the past year into that brief message. When the message was sent, every shred of burden was lifted. I closed my eyes, utterly drained.