Atticus Dean Mitchell Novels & Stories

He had not said what it was for. “To kill someone,” Atticus answered impassively. Lincoln and Rowan were surprised. “Who in Clouspring requires your personal attention?” How could a small place like Clouspring have master-level bigshots? “Clouspring isn’t a famous place, but it’s interesting,” said Atticus. “Titus Wood, Bradley Walton, the extended family of the Wolfenden, and the one I want to kill this time.” Lincoln asked in astonishment, “Bradley Walton… the old patriarch of the Waltons?”

“We’re done here.” Carter chuckled. “This is just beginning.” He turned and left. The silence that followed was heavy. Sheila looked at Atticus. “You didn’t deny it,” she said. “You didn’t deny knowing.” Atticus met her gaze fully now. “Because denying it would be a lie.” Her chest tightened. “Then tell me why they care so much.” His voice dropped. “Because I don’t break easily.” She stared at him. “And because,” he continued, “you’re the first crack they’ve seen in years.”

“I’m so very confused,” Presley rubbed her forehead and with her other hand reached for Cruz. She needed his strength as all of hers seemed to have seeped from her body to pool somewhere under the table. She felt comforted as his large hand engulfed hers completely and then he moved sideways and pressed his lips to his temple. The lawyer spoke, “Miss Brookmore, my name is Atticus Marella. I am the legal advisor for multiple families associated with the Phoenix Initiative.”

He bared his teeth, eyes flashing with murderous intent. “This isn’t because of Evelyn. This is because of her no good, pathetic father.” He snarled, bucking against my hold. I pressed my arm against his throat harder, enraptured by the way his face began to fill with blood. “Her dead father, you mean. He was mauled by rogues. You’re trying to get revenge on a dead man.” My father laughed, cold and cruel, and I knew I’d been mistaken. “Please, Atticus Slater is not dead. He’s very much alive, and there’s one thing in this world he cherishes above all others. I’ll let you guess as to what that is.”

He sighs, "I'm not sure. I couldn't see their face. I think they might have some cloaking mask. Which means they don't want to be identified." Of course, no murderer wanted to be caught. "Well, I did bite them pretty hard. If we see them again, we well know." Atticus smirks, then places a hand on my thigh, "Yeah, cause my girl's a badass." I scoff, "I'm happy you know that, finally," I said smugly, crossing my arms across my chest. "Oh, look who's getting cocky," Atticus says playfully. "I already know I'm a badass; I was just wondering when you were going to get with the program. I'm "A Wanted Criminal," remember?"

He’s dressed all in black - baggy pants and an oversized hoodie, and Atticus is in grey pants, with a white shirt and flipping smart shoes. Really? He rolls his sleeves up and I cock a brow. “You know your pants might split?” I try again to make him rethink this, trying not to look at his ass. He looks at me and smirks. “Then let’s just hope they don’t.” “Alright, let’s cut the chit chat. I’ve wanted to smash that face of yours for quite a while. I’m glad you offered yourself up for a beating.” Zade taunts quietly. “Like you said, cut the chit chat. I hope you can live up to your talk,” Atticus replies.

He told me how he wanted me as a mate before he even knew I was his. "What? You...You want my best friend's mate to kill you? I thought...you said so many nice things to me. You apologized," I stutter, and Atticus looks physically pained as he purposefully avoids looking at me. Adeline shifts on her feet before patting Atticus on the arm. Atticus tilts his head towards her, and she just shakes her head, "no." She seems uncomfortable now that the prisoners are dead. "I know, Ade. Head back to the clinic. Wait with the warriors. I have to explain...I haven't been able to," Atticus says, and Adeline nods.

“Good. Because if you do that again, I might actually grow gray hair before dinner.” He peeked up at me, his apology already cracking into a tiny smile. “You already have one.” “Do not start with me, little menace.” At the side, I noticed a maid and a little boy around Atticus’s age watching us. That must have been Reid, the friend Atticus had been talking about and by the looks of it—Regan’s son. Wow. Fucking small world.

I didn’t recognize the scent; however, it had an unexpected calming effect even though I didn’t know who it belonged to. “I just don’t know how she’s going to react to this, between that bastard sneaking across the borders and making it not just to the clearing behind the pack house, but to the sidewalk between the pack house and the hospital… How the hell did he manage to get on our lands, never mind being out in the open long enough to draw TEN moons on the sidewalk in chalk?! And now this block, and apparently the only person who has information, is Atticus, the grandfather of the weasel we can’t seem to catch! Are we sure he isn’t involved in this?” Atlas demanded, his tone was tense and

‘I am – I am – I am not lying. The brothers watched, bewildered by the inspector’s sudden change of demeanour. Jyoti’s face had turned white with fear. She started sobbing. Immediately, as if someone had opened the tap to a reservoir. The inspector settled back in his chair, his eyes glowing red with anger. ‘Do not play the farce of the wrongly accused. I have done my research before coming here. The flat belonged to Mr R Satish, the famous Telugu singer. He has a summer house here in Palampur and you were a live-in