Andestine Novels & Stories

Antonio had agreed to Dushanbe’s condition, and Dushanbe had set up a meeting between Antonio and his contact within La Corona Nera. The meeting place was an industrial warehouse on the outskirts of Los Angeles, a location Dushanbe had described as what you may call a “neutral ground.”

— Sarajevo. Amaro frowned. — Too volatile. Bianca nodded. — Too watched. Lucia’s voice was calm. — Then we choose somewhere unexpected. Somewhere that says: we’re not hiding, but we’re not playing by old rules. Bianca tapped a key. A new location appeared. — Valletta. Malta. Lucia’s eyes narrowed. — Small. Historic. Surrounded by water. Amaro added: — And overlooked. Perfect. — In Palermo, Dario Mancini sat in a darkened room, speaking into a secure line.

“The first letter read: ‘I, Prince Habeb, the Prince of Suramy demand from you, Banabella, whose name I discovered in my dreams. I beg you in the name of your own god, grant me my wish, and avoid being uprooted from the face of the earth.” The second parchment read: “Because you have hidden Banabella in an unidentifiable place, with the intent of deceiving me, I’ll tread upon your bodies and make your kingdom bare like ordinary earth. Till I see Banabella, the people of Muzagah shall not be privileged to take in air into their nostrils before the sun sets tomorrow. Prince Habeb speaks!’

If it was true, what he heard over the link earlier—the Alpha’s mate was in danger. Michael's keen instincts sensed that there was more to Annie's story than what she had revealed. His gaze bore into her eyes as he asked, "Do you know who it was?" Annie hesitated, fear etching her features, her voice barely audible as she whispered, "Feral Glen." Michael's jaw tightened at the revelation. Feral Glen was known for its brutality and ruthlessness, a faction that operated on the fringes of the shifter world.

Even the moon seems to take notice. Within moments, false trails bloom like smoke across three countries. One traces Alejandro to the deep mountains of Kilimanjaro. Another places Zenith in a village tucked beside a holy temple in Bhutan. A third, perhaps the cruelest misdirection, shows the boy’s scent in the heart of the Crimson Deserts, surrounded by deadly storms.

She said. Lucien laughed again while clapping his hands together, as if he was watching an interesting spectacle. "Moonwood. A city ruled by wolves ... Protected by witches ... And inhabited by many humans. Interesting ..." commented Lucien. The breeze hit their facial skin. Another figure came —joined in the midst of the easing of the tension. Leona breathed a sigh of relief when she knew the figure. Loui. The big brother. "Ah. Another Argent." muttered Lucien slightly bitterly. Lucien immediately looked away –avoiding Loui's intense gaze.

She said, “I just needed a short rest, we have been walking for hours.” “Yes. We have. But we don’t have much further to go before we can rest.” “Where are we headed?” “To a small village by Valle mountains. It called Resina.” “Will we be safe there?” “I suppose not, but it is a good place to stay for the night, the staff at the inn are ... Discreet.” “Do we have the money to stay in an inn?” Astria asked, knowing that they never had a use for money in Lacus, but that the world away from the swamp was much different.

Kendall asked "Cos he's a nincompoop" was my only answer "I need to find him" I said getting ready to go out "So, do you know where he is?" Kendall asked "No, i'm just going to search all the clubs and hotels in the city" I said smiling at my stupid brain "You know there are over five thousand hotels and clubhouses in this city" Kendall said stating the obvious I rolled my eyes and slumped on the chair "But you can collect it tomorrow at school" he said

LaRosa rushed, spotting the obvious. “He was last seen entering here” Gina echoed, pointing at a luxurious looking building which evidently sashayed itself to be a clubhouse. “Club Erebus” She continued, calling out its name. “This is where things get interesting” She said, dragging her hands through the texture of the pictures and paper as though in search of something. Then she paused on a particular picture. “Lil Joe” Marco and I echoed simultaneously, looking over the picture which showed Lil Joe coming out of the Club.

DAMIEN’S P.O.V “Of course you want the short version. Fine. There’s a safe house. Third floor of an abandoned tenement on Via Calder. Apartment 12B. Locked up tight, guards rotate every hour. If you want her, you’ll need my help getting in.” He paused, letting the silence crawl into my guts “And help costs, Damien.” Skylo’s eyes narrowed. He muttered under his breath, his Italian accent slipping out like a hiss. “Boss, Non fidarti. Don’t trust him.“