Aphmau Artwork Novels & Stories

But then again, she was that kind of step mother who just wanted me out of my father’s life, and she worked for that to happen. Arturo looked at me, and I slowly shook my head, silently asking him to close the topic. The elders were here, and this was the last thing that we both needed. He nodded in response as he turned his attention to Jada, one of the She-wolf elders who was also invited. She smiled at me as she took a bite off the small cinnabon. “You actually made all these?” Jada asked, her voice softening as she asked and I nodded. Arturo smiled, seeming proud, making my chest ache at the fact that I knew that this might have been an act, this whole morning could have actually been.

Her. Maybe the next chapter wasn’t in New York after all. --- Later that evening, Nathaniel found himself scrolling through Amara’s online gallery. Her paintings were visceral. Bold. Vulnerable. Some of them angry. Others quietly devastated. One caught him off guard—an abstract portrait. Red and black. Gold streaks slashing across the canvas. Her pain. Her power. He clicked away. But it stayed with him. Across the apartment, Monroe’s assistant sent over the first round of intel. Name. Age. Education. Former exhibitions. Past relationship with Liam Blackwood. Pregnant.

One wrong whisper, one wrong rumor, and everything Sophie and Xavier were trying to build could shatter. I pushed it down. Focus. Protect them. Protect our children. Protect the future we’re fighting for. The first artist lived above a pottery guild. She answered the door with ink on her fingers and irritation in her eyes. “You think I’m sneaking around with protest paint?” she scoffed. “Half my work is murals. The red you saw on the walls? Wrong mix. That was cheap stuff. Mine’s imported. Cost me triple.” She shoved a crate of pigments at me, receipts clipped neatly to the side.

" I paint vigorously as the song plays. I'm desperately trying to get the image out of my mind onto the canvas. My brush travels across his chiseled jawline. My colors hold his textured blonde color in a lock of hair that hung in his face while the rest was pulled back. My shadows play with the rippled muscles under his shirt. I let the music inspire me as I paint the pale blue eyes staring at me. His tanned skin looks almost like I could reach in and feel it. The image in my mind comes alive in the painting. My painting. "Bastian." I whisper as I add tiny dances of light to his face. "Oh, that's lovely." I whip around and my mom is standing. I huff out a breath. "You scared me." She giggles

He drafted a message: “I never meant to make it harder. I just wanted to see what healing looked like on you.” But before he could send it, another headline appeared: “Amara Reacts to Liam’s Gallery Appearance with Mysterious New Piece: ‘The Betrayal of Silence.’” And for a moment, he thought he’d lost her for good. That evening, Amara unveiled the painting unfinished, raw, born of panic and emotion. It was a single figure in grayscale, surrounded by hands reaching out, grabbing, pulling. At the center, a mouth covered by a red brushstroke. The critics called it “a rebellion against misinterpretation.”

Chapter 44 ((Flashback)) Alex sighed, he was in Aromascapes, tired out of his mind. He was combining pack duties, physical pain and college at once. He didn't think it through before he implemented the plan. The reason he couldn't just complain was that he actually enjoyed school. He didn't know that he had the slightest inclination towards anything in the arts, but as Alex stepped into the school's biggest art gallery, a sense of intrigue enveloped him. The hushed atmosphere allowed him to escape from the outside world and immerse himself in a realm of creativity. The vibrant colors, intricate details, and thought-provoking compositions roused his emotions, evoking a beautiful sense of conn

He instructs. Back To The Present Amber’s pov: Time flies by as I work on my art, the only thing keeping me sane right now. Harlow, surprisingly, watches me paint and although it adds to the discomfort of the hot weather, I deal with it. As the brush strokes the canvas, I access the image of Alessandro’s painting that I stored in my memory.

Each and Every statue was made by him , by his own hands and painted in his blood Abhimanyu punched a button and another door Opened , it was still hidden by Taapur . He entered and his eyes brimmed with unshed tears Whole room was full of Taapur's paintings . . When Taapur was in Australia . Abhimanyu spent his six months on painting , making her wax statue and creating his own Scarlet Heaven ABHIMANYU longigly stared at Her smiling glowing picture that punched his heart . . There was an immense pain in his chest and he felt suffocating . He wanted to end this tightness of his burning chest

I told them that no one was allowed to leave the house until we found Amara and the person who kidnapped her. I trotted back to my office still thinking of what to say to Gio then I decided that I would be plain with him. He was my son so he could do anything to me. I opened the door and saw him staring calmly at the new painting I bought recently. The painting was about a woman naked but in chains, she looked wild but her eyes showed how scared she was of bondage . It was one of the best piece of art the artist had, and he had advertised it during the launching of his latest artwork so I bought it.

Alpha Fiama Jay gaped at me without blinking his eyes for a while. He might be looking for words. I was determined to do this today. I knew it would affect him more than me. But I had no option left to secure his life. "Fiama! I guess you're forgetting that we are the students of management, not literature, nor any of us interested in supernatural novels", he giggled. His words were enough to let me know that he didn't believe in our world, nor he was aware of anything.