Armon Warren Novels & Stories

You must be at least a year working here to repay that favor. "And your son?" "I already took care of him. I'll send him to another country, he won't be back for a few months. I just hope you know how to fight like a wolf. We're going to war against the mafia in the south." I felt a little calmer, but I watched as a guy arrived with tools to make tattoos. I didn't really like what I saw, I didn't want to get any tattoos, but it was obvious they were going to make me.

Jake replied and grinned as he drove them back to the clubhouse. Warren didn’t say anything, but he gave Jake a look as he pulled up to the clubhouse and parked his truck at the back of the bar. He followed Jake when he got out and headed to a side door. Jake scanned his palm and typed in a code before the door clicked open. Inside the clubhouse, Warren was greeted by men wearing Warrior cuts. He glanced around at the men all staring at him and he knew then that he never would’ve made it inside this place, not with the intention of walking out again.

Valerie spoke with authority, as accustomed to her as she curtly waved the maid away who bowed and left. Valerie rapped her knuckles against the sturdy wooden door and called softly, “Dear, are you in?” A permitting call reached her hearing and she held the little silver round tray that conveyed his black coffee, opening the door with her free hand and stepping in with a well-practiced homely smile. McArthur Warren was a well respected and self-made entrepreneurial man, just like his son was. A steadfast and resolute veteran business mogul who stood at the pinnacle of the W.M Lands.Inc, a Real estate business he ran competently.

Harley arched a confused brow while a small smile still hung at the corner of her lips. “Yeah well not everyone knows but I had a cousin that was killed at camp too, she schooled here” Bonnie answered with a faint smile then quickly turned to attend to bring out more candles to pour them on the table “I’m sorry for your loss” Harley said “It’s fine, it’s nothing really. God gives and God takes. So who’s your friend here? You want a candle?” She quickly changed the topic and focused her gaze on Roman “Oh yeah, this is Roman. He’s my friend and he’s new here” Harley introduced

"Mr. Warren, it's been a while. You're looking quite well. I suppose the new project is progressing smoothly?" Aurora greeted an older gentleman with graying hair warmly yet respectfully. David Warren seemed momentarily surprised by Aurora’s presence but quickly smiled in recognition. "Miss Walton? It really has been a long time! I didn't expect to see you here tonight. You've grown even more beautiful." "You're too kind, Mr. Warren," Aurora replied modestly, lightly clinking glasses with him. "I hear you've recently been exploring hot spring developments. I happen to have some experience in that area myself—perhaps I could learn a few things from you sometime?"

the lead singer, Warner, announces, throwing an arm over Eli and Carson’s shoulders. I pay no attention to Carson as he makes introductions. I know each member from TV award shows and entertainment sites. Warner Bradshaw, the bad-boy lead singer, wears black from head to toe. His skin-tight jeans, boots, and V-neck t-shirt are his trademark attire. A thick, gold chain around his neck draws my eyes toward the dark chest hair peeking out. I’ve often thought of him as a Jason Momoa look-alike. Although he’s not as bulky in stature, his long, highlighted hair and large forehead resemble the star. His look is never complete without his tousled brown waves touching his shoulders, the mirrored shad

] Warren began a lengthy explanation as to Severin's request for him to help save Keagan and Linette. [So that's how it is! What a sneaky little rascal you are! I didn't think you'd blend in with the bodyguards just to meet him!] Horace could not help but laugh when he found out the truth. Soon, the final war god, Calum Irminger, said, [I was wondering why my phone kept on ringing. It was you three all along! And my goodness, you're amazing, Warren! I'm surprised you had the chance to spend some time with Master.]

There’s a tense moment of silence as Warren continues to stare my uncle down in some sort of Alpha display of aggression. “Alpha Warren, I am Alpha Arman, Alpha Cyra’s cousin. As we mentioned to Alpha Cyra, my father and I are here to make amends and to speak to Alpha Cyra.” “Apparently one of you has some good sense, then,” Warren says. It’s an obvious insult to Alpha Ramin and a threat. He won’t tolerate him hurting me again. My uncle growls at the threat, but Warren just continues to stare him down. Arman, however, gives his father a warning growl of his own, quieting my uncle.

it sounded very familiar. I took a closer look at him and realized why I thought he was so familiar. He was Armon, son of the Beta of Glowing Dusk pack. What was he doing in Elana’s room? Did he not recognize me? I was shocked that he had forgotten me so easily then I remembered I had half of my face covered. I took off the glasses and cap I had on. “Good day to you Armon,” I said to him as I shoved the items in the pocket of my coat. His eyes widened in shock.

Aragon calmly said. What could this secret be? Why had his father not told him by himself? "Tell me, for I am listening," Wayne urged. Aragon squared his shoulders as he prepared himself to reveal a deep truth. He began "Warren Wyatt was a very compassionate and a wise king. I served his father, your grandfather, as his Zeta. And I must say that from a young age, your father had always shown empathy and commitment towards family and friends." Aragon had paused to catch his breath and Wayne felt an impatience like no other.