Alana From Face Off Novels & Stories

The kiss was already unstoppable. Lalisa opened her eyes wide in surprise. Suddenly, she heard the door being pushed open from the outside. An excited voice rang out, “Leon!” Cecilia Rossy plays the role of Alana. She changes into men’s western clothes. Her tall and thin figure stresses her heroic and handsome posture. Standing behind Cecilia Rossy was Leon. He stood there like a ghost, his eyes all falling on Cecilia Rossy, his handsome, mature face flying with excitement. It seems completely unpredictable.

She fanned her face with her hand and flipped her honey-colored hair, saying, “Oh, this is hilarious! Al? You eat ratatouille?” She snorted as she directed her gaze to Alana for the first time. Geneva claimed, “Obviously, Alana. You don’t know anything about Al. He… hates eggplants!” “Oh, no he doesn’t. He loves eggplants now,” Alana said with conviction. Her eyes turned savage as she directed Alric, her voice strengthened at the end. “Isn’t it right, DARLING?” Alana did not see how Alric found the situation amusing. He was smirking while looking at her. His eyes never wandered to Geneva, always at her.

The magic pulsed between us, invisible but strong — a tether made of light and instinct. “What’s happening?” he whispered, his voice shaking. “Why do I feel—” He pressed a hand to his chest. “It’s like something’s pulling—” “Quiet,” I snapped, more to the Moon than him. My voice carried power, and the forest itself seemed to hush. I could hear the pack murmuring behind me. “The Goddess has chosen,” someone breathed. “The Alpha’s Luna is human.” “Enough,” I growled. “He’s nothing. Just a boy who wandered too far.”

“You storm out, you avoid me, you walk away in front of my pack, in front of the elders. Do you think that doesn’t matter? Do you really think that if I do not care about you that I would be here? You are playing a dangerous game against the alpha and you are going to end up embarrassing yourself. It is bad enough that you're embarrassing me. People are going to start asking questions and I do not want that to happen.” “Embarrassing you?” she snapped, stepping forward. “You think this is about your pride? What about me, Nolan? What about the way you dismiss me, ignore me, look right through me as if I don’t exist? Do you think that doesn’t matter? You embarrassed me in front of everyone. Wor

Not with those yellowy, sharp eagle eyes. "Althea Francess Duvey. I have been assigned to give you this," she said curtly. Her accent was strong, suggesting she did not originate from this Pack. Let me guess, Discipline Pack. I shiver, thinking about The Pack we are all secretly afraid of, even Landon told me Alpha Dallas isn't someone you would mess with. A throat clearing noise is what brought my attention back to the table setting. Cyrus looked awfully uncomfortable, as the woman had moved her penetrating gaze over to my companion.

Alaric’s eyes darkened. “How dare you speak back to me?” he growled. “I am your Alpha.” He stepped closer. “I married you. I made you Luna. And you have the audacity to disrespect me in front of everyone?” Donna suddenly laughed. A hollow, broken laugh. “My Alpha?” she repeated softly before laughing harder, her body shaking. Alaric frowned deeply, confusion mixing with irritation. “What’s so funny?” he snapped. Donna stopped laughing abruptly. Her eyes locked onto his.

When we would become the luna, everyone would welcome her. She would be sure to have words with Jacob about how the lack should respect and treat their soon-to-be luna. “Where is my Jacob?” Abigail demanded to know from the driver who had no idea. Abigail spotted cherry and Danielle walking down the steps of the pack house, they were deep in conversation. Abigail opened the car door and stomped over to the girls. They looked surprised to see her again. “What do you want?” Danielle stuck her nose up and glared at Abigail with such resentment.

"Elena is at the bottom of the ocean. She's dead. This woman... she looks like a queen. Elena was a mouse." Alana Vance descended the stairs with a predatory grace. She didn't head for the podium. She walked straight toward the epicenter of her past. She stopped three feet from Adrian, the scent of her perfume—sandalwood and something metallic—filling his lungs. "Mr. Adrian Thorne, I presume?" Alana said. Her voice was an octave lower than Elena's, smooth and dangerous as a velvet-wrapped blade. Adrian fumbled for a napkin, wiping his blood-stained hand. "I... yes. My apologies, Miss Vance. You caught me off guard. You bear a striking resemblance to someone I once... lost."

I heard a woman's voice in front of me. I slowly lifted my head and saw Alana, but I was shocked to see her face. It was as if she had been beaten by someone and her eyes were so deep that I almost did not recognize her. She also has a lot of stitches in her face, jawline, and neck and a still visible bruise on her left eye. Who did that to her? Wait… Is that what they're pinning on me? Is it because Alana and I were the last one who had a fight? But I know nothing, they're mistaken!

Surprisingly, Freya stopped them from attacking by lifting a hand. She chuckled at Alana. “You must really enjoy hitting me, Alana. Does it excite you?” Her smirk was seductive. “Only a shameless, ugly-looking ogre would ever get excited by you. Oh wait, one already has,” Alana mocked. It was Freya’s turn to hit her, and so she did. “Don’t you dare bring him up,” she seethed. “Oh, you can bring up Cillian, but I can’t bring up your stinky ogre?” Alana asked rhetorically. “How rich, very elven-like.”