Romans & histoires Acik Lana

Lana was dressed in a vibrant crimson Bohemian-style maxi dress, adorned with feathers of the same hue along the hem. The square neckline complemented her flawless skin, making her look incredibly unique and eye-catching. With minimal makeup and her long hair flowing naturally, the only adornment on her face was a red spider lily placed between her brows. Despite her subtle appearance, she radiated a fiery aura that was captivating. Playfully, Lana knocked on Chris' head and teased, "Feeling quite daring today, aren't you? Flirting with someone like me, the esteemed Ms. Clark?" Chris quickly raised his hands in defense, saying, "No, no, I was just expressing my admiration, I promise."

Kendel started, running her fingers through her short pale blue wig. “She looks good, don’t you think?” Micha clapped. “Yeah, just,” Lana began, adjusting Aislyn’s top so that the fringe settled at an angle which allowed the silvery fabric to settle just at the curve of her breast. “It’s meant to tease, not cover.” The soft stroke of Lana’s nails nicked her peak just so sending shivers through her body. “Oh, sensitive…” Lana grinned. “This will be quite the night, eh?” “That’s what we’re hoping,” Stina was sure to follow. “No heels right?” she asked, dumping hers on a lounge chair along the wall.

Lana took her time to have a look at the principal, drinking in her beauty. “Hello there, you must be Lana West.” She asked, extending her arms politely for a handshake. Lana reciprocated the gesture, gripping her hand firmly while the principal indicated for her to have a seat. “Yes, I am Lana West, and you must be Beverly Akinfemi-Williams.” She read the name on the insignia proudly while sitting on her desk, pronouncing the last few words badly. Lana was curious about the name, and she had to ask. “Are you Scandinavian?”

"She might misunderstand your silence." "She won't." "What makes you so sure?" "Olivia is the kind of person who understands without needing to hear whatever excuse you've prepared. I believe she already understands." "I still think you should tell her," he insisted. I nearly rolled my eyes. "Lately," he continued, "rumors have been spreading about the Lycan King's sudden change in attitude toward the strange lady. People think you're letting your emotions cloud your judgment, especially toward someone who was rejected by her mate."

I took the wine goblet with me to Akyran’s door and knocked. I heard him call out, so I opened it. He was standing, looking out the window at the darkening sky, whilst Ithyles finished buttoning his cufflinks. “My Prince,” Ithyles murmured, seeing me. Akyran turned his head with a smile and looked surprised. For a long moment, he regarded me, the surprise fading into an expression I could not put a name to. “You were right about the dress not needing jewels,” he said finally.

Lana breathed, her cheeks red but not from the heat. “About time.” I grumbled, twisting my lips. “Let’s go!” “Yeah, just... one second,” Lana murmured and took a step forward, ignoring my confused look. She held out her arms, letting a slight breeze brush past her fingers and ruffle at her bonnet clad hair. The omega tilted her head back to look at the clear sky, inhaling sharply. I noticed as the smile on her lips began stretching, eyes squinting due to the sunlight. Why was she acting so strange?

Elita Someone clicks their tongue, mocking the condition I am in. I sigh and open my eyes, only to see the vast darkness surrounding me. It’s so cold here. If I was alive, I would have died just trying to endure the drop in temperature. “ What do you want now, Lana? ” I ask, shifting to my side, to rest the side of my face on my arm. Lana’s familiar face is peeking back at me. She is still wearing a white dress, and it makes her blonde hair appear so shiny and golden.

Lana said, her voice strained as she shifted her weight on the passenger seat and gripped the door handle until her knuckles turned white. "We are practically there, so just breathe and try to keep your hands out of your lap for five more minutes, Lana, because if you start rubbing yourself in the middle of traffic again, I’m going to get distracted and we’ll end up in a ditch," I replied, glancing over at her and noticing how her skirt had ridden up her thighs, exposing the pale skin that was usually so calm but was now flushed with a frustrated, hormonal heat.

Her green eyes roamed over Lydia as she exclaimed, “Oh my God!” Lydia stifled a laugh; she knew her mom would soon comment on her beauty and how she would sweep every male off their feet that evening. It was clear that Lydia resembled her mother, both standing tall and slender, with curves that could captivate anyone. Lydia had inherited Luna Alice's striking green eyes, long tan limbs, pointed nose, and beautifully shaped lips.

The picture was a close-up of a Black woman whose lips were quirked in an almost-smile which only called more attention to her aesthetically-pleasing asymmetrical features, further emphasized by almond-shaped russet-colored eyes that reminded Camille of autumn. She had one of those unconventionally pretty faces which happened to be impossible to look away from, and could’ve passed for a Modigliani painting or runway model. “Christ, she’s a ten,” Camille said again, looking up at Tavie who grinned at her. “Who’s the lesbian here?” “I would turn gay for her,” she shot back, handing back the cell phone. “Don’t test me.” “Her name is Lana, and slow down, she’s mine.”