Anastasia Rdr2 Novels & Stories

She was lying on the ground, unconscious and naked. “Alpha Connor…” She called my name and I could feel in her voice how tired she was when her wolf come out from earlier. I remove my shirt and wear it to Anastasia to cover her naked body. “Let me take good care of everything, Ana. Just rest well, and I will bring you to your room.” I whispered in her ear and after that, I carry her body and then started walking away from the rooftop. I am still captivated by Anastasia's green-eyed wolf. That image is still in my mind and I felt scared about her protection even more once the others might see her. She was different from other wolves. Anastasia's wolf was rare, and I will never allow anybody t

That little girl deserves better than growing up under the control of a twisted Alpha like Darius. I reach the SUV, pull the door open, and slump into the driver’s seat. My breath comes out in a sharp exhale as I lean back, staring at the ceiling. The anger I’ve been trying to bury bubbles up again, and I smack my hand against the steering wheel, the sharp sound echoing through the quiet. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. I can’t stand waiting around like this, knowing that bastard’s got his claws in her, that he’s hurting her. But I can’t act without her. I need her to make the choice, to reject him.

“You were never welcoming, you know.” Her head snapped toward me, familiar piercing blue eyes staring into mine. She placed the glass on the table, walking toward us, her heels clicking against the floor. “Rhea Blackwood,” she introduced, her hand outstretched in front of her. I placed my hand in hers, hesitating before shaking it. “Anastasia Brooks,” I supplied. She nodded. Her eyes flickered over my face, my disheveled hair, and the sweat sticking strands to my forehead. Her brows drew together.

Roland hadn’t noticed, but she was living in an interrogation room, her move were being watched in each step. “You know my mother isn’t an issue,” he said. “She wasn’t, because she thought I could be more controlled than Sasha,” she thought to herself. “I want to take a shower, do you want to join me?” Roland asked. “Take your time baby,” she said, smiling softly at him. Anastasia waited until she heard the water run in the shower before she discreetly pulled out her second phone, “I will soon be a Conrad,” she typed, sending the quick message.

“Oh, and now you’re joking. Ha-ha, so funny. It only took you twenty-five years to develop a sense of humor. Just you wait until I tell Anast—” A blacked-out car pulled up beside the plane. The back door opened and out stepped the woman who haunted my waking—and sleeping—thoughts. Anastasia wore a little red dress that matched the roses tattooed down her arm. As she slipped out of the car her long, tanned legs were on display, along with the ruby heels on her feet. There was a slit in the dress that opened up as she moved, revealing a hint of the tattoo inked onto her thigh.

Ruining Denali to avenge Anastasia for her ruin after her mother and my bastard father. “Now,” TJ announces, disgustingly. “For the main event.” “Not yet.” Anastasia’s voice rings out, indicating that she and probably the two other thugs were already here, waiting. Fuck, this bitch was sick enough to actually want to sit here and watch TJ and his friends ruin Denali. But could I expect any less from someone who was willing to use their own child as a pawn? “Before that,” Anastasia continues, beginning to move. “We should get some pictures for her loving husband.”

Cameron yelled at Anastasia with a livid face. "Dad, is she threatening you? Why are you acting like this? I'm Tasia, your daughter!" Anastasia looked at him desperately. ‘Rhea must’ve hypnotized him! That’s the only explanation!’ Anastasia wanted to snap him out of it. ‘I can’t let it go on like this!’ Rhea, on the other hand, seemed unconcerned. She turned around and smiled faintly. "I'm not in a rush." This seemed to trigger something in Cameron. He suddenly grabbed Anastasia by the hand before forcefully dragging her out. Although she was heavy, he wasn't just any man. His muscular physique and brute force allowed him to drag her to the guest room before he threw her to the ground.

“What are you doing?” Anastasia hissed. “Dmitri is fully Russian, not American.” “How are you so sure about that?” I asked, turning to Anastasia. Her eyes widened, darting between me and Mikhail. Seems like she has opened something that was meant to be closed.

"Unless any of you would like to question my decision?" Silence. The white-blonde woman stepped forward. She possessed a chilling beauty, akin to a blizzard—cold, deadly, impossible to ignore. Her icy eyes met mine, holding them captive. "I am Anastasia Volkov," she announced, her voice as sharp as frost. "Leader of the Siberian pack. And I have no desire to witness a half-blood embarrass herself in the ring." "I didn't ask for your interest," I retorted. Anastasia offered a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You have spirit. I appreciate that. Perhaps when Niklas breaks you, I will collect the pieces and forge something useful."

" She added Again, her child kicks as he wants to get out of her tummy. "Oh, baby, I know you're excited." Emily lay on her back in bed. She was facing the right side, where the window was. She closed her eyes, thinking about Drake again. ** Drake felt excruciating pain in his stomach as the hunters continued to punch him. "Hey, come on! Be the ruthless alpha! Where's your brave? " The prince of the rouges growled.