Archer Box Set 1-14 Novels & Stories

Chapter Thirteen Quinn I hate being the center of attention. Why did I agree to this? I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, and my heart gets a little fluttery knowing at least four cameras are trained on us right now. “Ready?” Archer asks, looking into my eyes. His are glimmering, and I think mine are too. I nod, and he puts his hand over mine. I’m supposed to be looking at the camera, smiling and making a point to have a nice photo taken. But I can’t look away from Archer. He guides my hand, going to the pull tab at the top of the box. It rips open, and the cardboard flaps at the top of the box slowly push up and the first balloon pops out.

Archer murmured, brushing her cheek, worry etched across his brow. He never should’ve left her alone… But at least they had Nath back. “Give him to me,” Tempest said to Magda, trying to sit up. Archer helped her, handing her the small box. Tempest pressed it to her chest like she’d never let it go. His calloused hand slid over hers on the polished surface. “We’ll give him a beautiful resting place in the finest chapel ever built,” Archer promised, and he meant every word. Tempest let him stroke her cheek and tilted her head toward his touch, her eyes wet but steadier.

The shadows reached out, tightening around me and choking me. "Archer, let go of me," I whispered. Archer tried to regain control of his power and approached me in a weakened state, caressing my cheeks. He looked disheveled, with a silver dagger pierced through his ribs some hurt before. Smiling, Archer collapsed, and I caught him, bearing his weight. Then, Leo entered the room, looking equally injured.

Totally ignoring my question. "Archer I just asked you a question." "I will tell you when I'm ready" he replies tartly "And when will that be?" "Really? You are gonna do this right now?" He asks,his movements becoming choppier. "Do what? I just asked you a simple question. Why are you being weird?" "I'm being weird? You are the one who's still hung up about a damn stupid box!" "I'm not hung up on anything. Infact,it's this exact attitude of yours that makes me really want to know what's in that thing; because everytime I bring it up,you switch up"

(Arlo) After the trip to the pack doctor, my family still wasn't convinced that I was alright. We spend hours there trying to figure out what was wrong which was a waste of precious time. It was now eight at night and I was tired as hell, so I decided to take a shower but not before I had to get rid of Chris who wanted to make sure I was alright. They still think that there is something wrong with me so my brothers took it on themselves to tuck me in bed while my head was resting on a mountain of soft pillows which was enough for me to fall asleep.

“Here, drink it.” “Thanks, princess,” Zephyr finished the entire bottle in a few gulps. Water droplets slid from the corner of his lips down his throat. His adam’s apple bobbing sensuously with every gulp. He licked his lips and exhaled, wiping his mouth on his cuff. I gaped at his lips, and suddenly I was thirsty. He looked at me, and I looked away. “Ok, now that everyone is here. Let’s go,” Archer said. He was holding a considerably big wooden box.

Archer's students were half Frostmarch refugees, half Silver Hollow born. He didn't care. He taught them all the same: "Heal anyone who needs it. No questions. No conditions." The medic tent had expanded over the years. What had once been a single canvas shelter was now a sprawling complex of treatment rooms and training halls and a small library of medical texts that Archer had collected from every territory in the Accord. He stood at the center of it all, his gold eyes bright, his auburn curls streaked with grey at the temples, his hands as steady as they had ever been.

Next were the Viscount Betas, Baron Gammas and lastly the Deltas in each pack. In case anything were to happen to Archer, no part of the kingdom would suffer. It took him thirty years to make his entire kingdom what it was and the last thing he would want was for anything to happen to it. He had more plans for his kingdom but might not live to carry them out. Archer cursed his fate but could do nothing to make it better. He was not even able to take another step forward, for fear of losing himself to darkness. He could only prepare his mind and his house for his inevitable demise. After all, two weeks were just fourteen days.

His gazes were so focused on his reference that he didn't even bother to at least glance at her. Archer sat there while drawing on his sketch pad. He's way so good at hiding his emotions, all he gives off was a senseless presence. But the vibe he has been trying to show is simply direness, and that made Selah feel bothered. Despite the gloomy aura that the man has, Selah stood there trying to read every movement that Archer has been doing. His hands were gently holding the pencil as he tried to perfectly sketch the details of his reference. His fingers were so flawless that they could produce balanced shades of tinted hues onto the paper he was working on. Her eyes landed on his face, and sh

He says which caused such a serge of differing feelings to spread through me, I was of course happy that Hadwin wanted to give me something but also so upset, even though I didn’t like my birthday, it was the first one I was spending without my family. “Did you allow it?” I ask a little worried that he wouldn’t, but I of course understood why, with the tension between the two packs, handing something which was intended to be a present but really something more sinister would be the best attack plan. “After some thought and having people inspect the box, I allowed it.” Archer confessed pulling open one of the draws of his desk and grasping a little black box with a white envelope into his han