Aphmau Sasha Novels & Stories

It was finally morning Alexa had woken up with swollen eyes caused from crying through out the night. That morning memories of the previous night of the her failed attempt of escaping flashed through her head, Alexa instantly broke out in tears. She realized she was back to her father's house. Alexa now viewed her father's mansion know for happiness as her very own Prison. She had finally gotten up from her bed with her leg still trembling from her attempt of escaping, her feets still very much sored. She was limping a little due to the sores.

she asked but before her brother could answer a voice chipped in "Xavier is already here!" "Xavier!!" screamed Shamma. Her mother watched in silence at the scene happening before her. Her Shamma was just an ordinary and innocent little girl and she too hoped growth will erase the attachment the two already had towards each other because if the attachment followed them into adulthood,it was going to be deadly

Frowning, Samson stared quizzically between the two ladies. Something wasn't right, he probably thought. However, he seemed to have absolutely no idea on what was going on. "Well, too bad. I'd love to continue chatting but we need to go home." Sasha stood up, fixing the big, black shirt she was wearing. She liked it because it hid her growing bump pretty well. "Home?" Claire flushed. "Yeah, that's what I said." Sasha huffed a small laugh, imagining the ideas lurching in Claire's mind as though she lived in it. Perhaps Samson had become her lover in the her psyche. How silly!

Sasha stopped in front of the raised stand and placed her hands on her hips. Long black hair ran down her back in inky black curls. She was barefoot and dressed in a simple dress that accentuated her curves. Her dark eyes flashed with determination as she stared at Paul. "She's not Pack," Sasha said. "She can never be Pack because she represents all that we fight against. She is one of them!" The noise of the crowd grew.

“Here, you must be thirsty, “ the girl said casually, approaching my bed and handing me a glass of water. “I am Sasha, my mom is the pack doctor.“ she told me softly. I reached out to grab the glass which I gulped the water instantly. For some reason I was not able to move my eyes from her. Sasha looked pretty, her short black raven hair was framing her face beautifully. She had caramel eyes with thick eyelashes, a small button nose and heart shaped lips to die for. There was something about her that I liked, that gave me peace, that told me we will be friends.

“That nice!’ Sasha exclaimed. “Tell me all the details afterwards, okay?” Amelia laughed. “I will.” Then she added, “Thanks Sasha. You’ve been the pillar of support for me.” “Hush!” Sasha chided. “You would do the same for me.” “Yes, I would,” Amelia said and the friends hugged each other again. “Now please go an get ready. You don’t have much time,” Sasha goaded her. She knew that her friend really needed a change and Vargauz was a nice change.

Xander asked, his voice a bit calmer. Sasha's eyes darted quickly to me. "Don't look at her," Xander said, turning her chin toward him. "Look at me. What did they say?" Tears welled up in her eyes again. "Sasha, knock it off!" Xander said. "You're a wolf, for heaven's sake! There's no excuse for you to be afraid of your own shadow! Now, tell us!" "Okay." She squared her shoulders, her tears stopping abruptly.

Her curls were a matted mess on her head, and her lip had been busted and bruised. “Sasha, what’s going on?” She cried, her teeth caked with old blood, “Why am I here? What is this place? This can’t be Iridian!” “Please don’t—” Sasha gasped, lurching away from my mom. She stumbled back, but her foot caught on a nearby stone. I reached forward to help her as she fell, but my hands passed through her body. I was a phantom in this world, an onlooker as I watched the inevitable happen.

she barked at the staff, her voice sharp, cutting through the silence. With a final glare, Sasha stormed off toward her room, leaving a tense atmosphere behind. I stood at my window, watching the scene unfold. It was the first time I had ever seen Sasha cry. Real, raw tears. In that moment, I finally understood something I had never fully realized before: Sasha wasn’t just difficult or attention-seeking. She was starved for love, desperate for it. Her mother’s neglect had created this deep void, and now Sasha would do anything to fill it. I felt a flicker of pity for her, just for a moment. But then, I quickly reminded myself that Sasha didn’t deserve my sympathy.

"Sasha has made remarkable progress since being under our care. Her physical injuries have mostly healed, although she still cannot speak. The doctors assure us that in due time, she will overcome the trauma she has endured. Having family by her side will greatly aid her recovery. I will leave you alone." The realization slowly sank in for both father and daughter, reflecting on their faces. Sasha was alive. She had been brutally beaten by Franco, losing her ability to speak and walk. Left for dead, she was rescued by one of Franco's men, who then informed Dante. Dante had found the perfect facility, providing the best medical and psychological care money could buy. Over the years, Sasha had