Annabel Lee Novels & Stories

I was wearing an old white cardigan that I’d had for ages, but I felt comfortable in it. As I started to walk back, I realised that I was completely alone in the dark. Then my phone rang, but when I saw the name of ‘Jack’, I decided not to answer. There was another area where water could fully envelop your body and I was on the point of jumping and letting my body go like Virginia Woolf’s when the phone rang again. Jack. ‘Yes?’ ‘Anna. Please, listen to me. Let me know how you are doing. I’ll meet you soon when nobody knows’.

She might as well get one for herself as well if this butterfly thing is cool. "Yeah, one second. Let me turn it on", Anna said before reaching her finger underneath the butterfly. When the butterfly 'turned on', Kaylee stared at it in shock and whimpered almost immediately. * * *

She’s crying again, only this time it’s rivers of tears, she murmurs, “I’m sorry for everything you suffered Caleb, I’m sorry we weren’t better to you and your family. What can I do now?” “Oh Kate you’re already doing it. You’re here and you are part of my revenge on the high-ranking official who destroyed my family.” “Who was it?” she demands. “Alpha Jackson, Kate” … pausing at the look of horror on her face … “Alpha Jackson.”.

It was there, this strange thing with the eerie light in its eyes. Kill him! “No!” Annabel said. She had already killed one person. That was why she was here, why she could not go home. He is a dirty, old abuser. You saw the girl. Of course, she did. The girl seemed timid. She looked like she wanted to disappear through the sheets of her bed, like she did not want to exist. These were tell-tale signs. It was clear she was getting abused. Besides, the shadowless thing would know. He seemed like… a god.

Annabel twirled the pendrive between her manicured fingers, a sly smile curving her lips as she leaned closer. “Is this what you were talking about, sweetheart?” she purred, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. She crouched down, her fingers brushing against Alex's cheek, sending a shiver down his spine.

ANNABELLA { The Billionaire's Maid... } CHAPTER 31-32 ≺𝕀ℕ𝔹𝔼𝕋𝕎𝔼𝔼ℕ;𝔻𝕀𝕊 𝕆ℝ 𝔻𝔸𝕋??≻

", I asked. She didn't understand the question. "Do you react to something that when you eat it doesn't agree with your body?" I rephrase the question. "Yes, hemlock, nothing else" ,she said. "That is a poison but okay." She sat up with only mild discomfort, my potions had worked. I gave her a plate of the salad and a fork. I had fashioned them out of a tree bark and vines. "Okay now your story." Her name was Anabelle. She was of the Spooky Hollows pack. They were now all dead. It was quite a small pack of about thirty-five people that lived on the edge of the forest.

Bella’s POV I wake up in a dark room, the warm glow of the sun peeking in from behind the thick curtains. I sit up as memories from the night before attack me and push the sheets away to inspect my body. There’s a bandage around my leg, covering a wound on my right shin, and a few bandaids here and there. There’s also a wet towel on the night stand beside me, resting in an empty bowl. The door opens and a man walks in. I panic and pull the sheets over myself to cover my exposed legs since I am now only wearing underwear and an oversized T-shirt.

Not the three-beat military knock, nor the heavy boot-thud of Dexter’s guards. Lighter. The smell of faint tuberose and expensive lavender oil wafts underneath the door, it gives me a dull, persistent throbbing right behind my temples. The latch lifts before I can even drag a hand down my face to clear the haze. Annabel doesn’t wait to be invited. She slips through the gap like a cat looking for a warm hearth. Her cousin Lori might be the one sinking her claws into Damien’s future, but Annabel has made it her mission to keep the rumor mills in the Beta and warrior quarters fat and happy.

The question was a breath, a denial. But Annabelle was already falling into my arms, her weight collapsing against me as a raw, animal sound tore from her throat. I held on, my own tears coming freely now, soaking her hair. It didn't matter that I was half-naked. It didn't matter that I didn't know what to say. That I didn’t know how she got here, or why. All that mattered was the crushing, final weight of the word she had just spoken. *Dead.*