Arthur Fates の小説・ストーリー

Devon I was sitting on the floor of my shower, sobbing uncontrollably as I hugged my arms around my stomach. I'm trying hard to sift through my feelings and I keep losing the battle. I'm torn from wanting Jennifer to get her memory back to developing feelings for Miss James.

“He won’t get that chance. I promise you. You are safe here, and I will make sure of it and no one is going to hurt you because you are impure.” I wanted to believe him, but the memory of Oliver’s cold eyes and his grip dragging me away haunted me. “Wow, says the man that has killed thousands of impure wolves and has no idea where his sick brother is?” I snapped. Arthur’s jaw tightened, he took in deep breaths darting his eyes away. “Yes, I have killed your kind in the past and I don't know where Oliver is but that doesn't mean that you would be my prey or let Oliver touch you again.”

Who knows what would have happened to me, or Ruby, or our pack, if he hadn’t stepped up. It's because of his actions in the past that I am extra forgiving with him now. He’s been so weird the last few days. I’m not sure if he feels responsible that Artemis escaped, or what. He’s been off and on edge. I haven’t even had a chance to fill him in on the fact that Saph is my mate. He’s my brother, he should have been the first person I told. We don’t keep secrets. After dropping Ruby off at school, I make my way back to meet with Archie at my office. I need him to know, and I need to figure out what’s been bothering him.

“It’s not a blank book see” I hold up the book to show him the page I’m currently reading. He bursts out laughing. “Well it must be written in invisible ink because all I see is a blank book” I look up at Delilah confused as she all but runs to me. “Hmm curious. Faith can you really read that book?” “Yes it’s about the history of the three fates and a some what prophets it mentions the child of light, the moon goddess’s blessed and the dark knight” Both Destin and Delilah look at each other in shock.

***FLASH BACK FIVE YEARS AGO*** To wake up and see that my mate Mark has appeared is the most exciting thing I have felt. I have been waiting for this day to come for years. Everyone is always so eager to see if they have a fated mate out there. Not everyone is so lucky, but I am blessed by Lucifer himself. I make my way downstairs ready to tell my parents. The look on my mother’s face is one of annoyance and disgust.

And I’ll have to figure out how to carefully word my answers. Arthur decides to come back to my sister’s house with me. As much as I have issues with him, especially for the way that he treated Vesta, who was his handfasted for 10 years and later became my handfasted until the end of her days, but he’s a decent guy and a good high priest. He just wasn’t made for being with someone for an extended period. His time in a handfasted pair is limited and that works for him. I just wish he had figured that out before he hurt Vesta and broke up his family with the girls.

He felt incredibly close to Claire, even though they were still separated by walls and family rules. Suddenly, Arthur’s phone vibrated in his pocket. A call from Natalie. Arthur looked at the screen with a gaze of pure disgust, as if Natalie were an insignificant annoyance. He turned off the phone and tossed it onto the hard mattress. "Do not bother me, Natalie. I am busy guarding my future," Arthur whispered. He sat back down in front of the window, gripping his large telephoto camera. Moonlight spilled in, illuminating a face that looked pale and full of madness. Arthur was waiting for tomorrow, waiting for the chance to take more pictures, and waiting for the right moment to make his move

she said, and turned to walk away. “You were right, you know,” he called after her. She paused and looked back. “I don’t believe in fate,” he said. “But I think I was meant to meet you today.” Aurora smiled, her heart tugging in a way she couldn’t explain. “Then I hope you remember it.”

Choices were terrible, but they were obvious. Now the choices are smaller. Who gets water first. Who speaks first? Who forgives first. These are the questions that don’t glow. They don’t announce themselves as important. They just accumulate. Arthur meets me in the courtyard at noon, sleeves rolled up, hands stained with sap. He’s been helping rebuild the old observatory—not as a monument, but as a school. Somewhere children can learn to measure the sky without believing it owes them answers. “You’re thinking too loudly,” he says.