Archer Box Set 1-14 Novels & Stories

“Then that someone should be his father. Let him stay with his father. Don’t tear them apart!” Archer stepped closer, his voice low and deadly. “I’ve already lost Fernando once. I won’t lose him again. Not to a world that wants us destroyed.” “I’m not stealing his child.” “You will, if you care about him.” “I care enough not to do this.” The air was razor-thin. My heart pounded. Then Archer’s hand went up. He turned slightly and gave a simple, horrifying command. “Shoot the man.” “No—NO!” I lunged.

He looked at it. Roman: “Working, Why.” Archer typed back: “No reason. Carry on.” And then he put the phone down again and pressed both hands flat against his sternum because his heart was doing something he felt was disproportionate to a two-word reply. Archer sent it and put the phone down and then picked it up again to check the timestamp on when Roman had last been active and then put it down again and then reorganized his bookshelf for fifteen minutes because he needed to do something with his hands.

Lucas shouted. “Relax, man! Don’t yell in my ear!” I huffed. Archer chose that moment to barge into the room. He looked around before walking closer to me. “How much time do you need?” He asked. “I’m done. I was just waiting for you.” I shrugged. “Mia.” Archer spoke in a deep and scary voice as he glared at me. “FYI, they have a small crate with a red cross on it. It has a couple of bazookas.” I told him as I got up. “That’s what I found out after I was done.” I shot him a nasty look for doubting me.

They thought they’d won something. And then Archer smiled. It was slight, just a flicker of movement at the corners of his mouth, but it was enough. The tension shifted again like he was about to play some sort of game. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, perfectly wrapped box—a pristine silver bow on top. “Lila,” he said, voice rich and even, the way a diplomat might smooth over an international crisis. “Apologies for my wife’s… enthusiasm.” A calculated pause. A gentle incline of his head. Just enough condescension to make Lila feel superior but not enough to be obvious. Then he extended the gift, holding it between two hands like an offering.

Archer greeted politely, his tone calm and respectful, even as he set the gift bags neatly on the coffee table. Inside the bags: a massage device, nutritional supplements, a silk scarf, a men’s wristwatch, and the latest model of a high-end laptop—clearly meant for James. Archer had thought carefully about each one. Nothing too extravagant—he didn’t want to come off as flashy or arrogant. A massage chair had seemed too much for a first visit, but a handheld massager? Practical, thoughtful. Just right.

Livia’s Point of View Agitated and thrilled. That is how I discern. I hoisted my porcelain hand and knocked on the door three times. My heart was pounding hard and my fingers were shaking. Regardless, the door creaked, and a dazzling man showed up wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist as drops of water fell on his hair down to his mesomorphic shoulders and went to his hard stomach. I bit my lip seeing Archer standing in front. His stern eyes and stoic face greeted me whilst holding the box of the necklace he asked me to drop by.

“We need every hand ready. There is no room for hesitation when we march.” He bowed. “Understood.” I turned and walked across the yard, feeling the crunch of gravel beneath my boots. To one side, a group of archers stood in a loose line, each holding a shortbow. Their arms moved with practiced precision, drawing arrows and letting them fly into distant targets planted in the wall beyond. I recognized their Westwind wood arrows, they carried a faint golden glint, designed to blind the eye in bright daylight. “Captain Trell,” I said to the archer commander, young but hungry for victory. He stood ramrod straight, fletching arrows with care. “Your bowmen, how many can shoot true at a hundred pac

“Rember generalizations, and you can say anything.” “How exactly is Archer? And how can I get out of this?” I saw a glimmer of hope if I had this woman on my side. “Archer is a more vial creature than your father. It’s bad. I’ve been instructed to tell you not to fight back and always say yes. He won’t hurt you if there is no challenge. He enjoys breaking someone's will.” She rolled her eyes and slammed her fists into the seat. “But even then, there is no guarantee. They want you pregnant as soon as possible. Are your heats regular yet?”

Archer firmly says. Beam hesitated for a moment before he looked at Archer in the eye. "Take your shower .. Ar…Archer" Beam stuttered a little while trying to call Archer by his name. "Please prepare my pajamas and boxers. I believe that's what wives do" Archer whispers in Beam's ears before he pecks his lips. Beam just stands frozen beside his wardrobe even if Archer is already inside the bathroom. Dazedly, he placed his fingers on his lips with a blush. He can't believe he let the man do such a thing to him.

"She wants to play a game in our house, brother. I say we let her. And I say we make it one she has never played before." The silence that followed was a different kind than the one before it. Archer had gone completely still, not the stillness of restraint but the stillness of a predator that has just been handed exactly what it wanted and is taking one measured breath before it moves. His black eyes were bright. The mischievous smile that was his most dangerous expression was spreading across his face with the slow confidence of something inevitable. "I love the sound of that," he said. He turned to Alaric. The smile didn't waver. "Do you like the arrangement, Alaric?"