August Alsina Stories Novels & Stories

“Or maybe It isnt. who are we to question the godesses plans an motives.” We sat in silence again, both lost in thought. The whiskey was nearly gone. The candles on my desk had burned low. Finally, I broke the quiet. “Thank you, Selene. For not… treating me like a scandal.” She smiled softly. “You’re not a scandal, Alina. You’re a story. And stories like yours are the ones that change everything. Im simply here because i tend to be more curious than whats good for me.” I let out a slow breath. “You make it sound almost possible to get out of this in one piece.”

I rattled off like a 3 year old who had too much ice cream. Alina giggled, her eyes sparkling. Then, she sat up and stared at me suddenly looking serious. “I have never told a living soul of the things I saw in that house. I had just turned 18 at the time. To celebrate my transition into adulthood, my cousin, Diego, and I went to a bar. We had been drinking and decided to walk home rather than drive. As we walked down the street, I heard a whisper. It was silent at first then it grew louder. Someone was calling my name. I can still remember her voice. Like the sound of falling sand, whispering help me, Alina.”

25 ANNALISE I jolted upright, the remnants of a dream clinging to me like cobwebs. A dream filled with whispered promises and stolen kisses under a canopy of stars – a dream featuring a certain infuriatingly handsome knight named Adrian. A giddy smile stretched across my face. Today was the day! The day I, Annalisa du Wales, would finally present my business proposition to the Queen herself, right there in the glorious Royal Palace. My heart did a little victory lap in my chest. This wasn’t just any business proposition, mind you. This was my brainchild, a revolutionary new loom design that would change the textile industry – faster, more efficient, and guaranteed to produce the most exquisi

Alyssa's experiences and the stories she had grown up with could prove invaluable in unravelling the mystery behind Selene. "If those stories hold the key to understanding my past and my kind," I mused aloud, "then I must delve into them. Where can I find these stories, Alyssa? Are they solely within the confines of your family's knowledge?" Alyssa hesitated, contemplating her response, and I could sense the bittersweet nostalgia that washed over her. "Most of the stories were passed down by my grandparents," she replied, her voice carrying a touch of longing. "But they passed away, taking their knowledge and tales with them."

Well, only time would tell how innocent she was. “Queen Elira,” I said, my voice darkening, “this is not the time.” “I disagree,” she said cheerfully, pouring wine. “There’s no better time for forging new connections.” I clenched my fists. “You know why I’m here.” She sipped delicately from her glass. “You should eat. Almira has travelled far to meet her future consort.” I stood frozen for a beat. Then I stepped towards her, slowly. “Stop this game,” I said, my voice ice. “You know where Ashina is. You know what they’re doing to her and instead of releasing her, you—you—parade this girl in front of me?”

Episode 3 Alyssa's pov . I got home and the first thing I did was to crash on my bed. I feel more dumb after that interview . If I don't get that job I can't tell if it's my fault or mr rudes fault. I guess I just hope for the best or even the worst , because that's what happens . I made an heavy sigh and closed my eyes for a nap that drifted me to sleep. I woke up the next day with a pounding headache I couldn't find the reason for.

said Dadang, which Alsava could already guess. Silly jokes can still be heard quite clearly from the back row. However, Alsava was deliberately deafening her ears. Smile with a droopy gaze. "My name is Alsava Oksana, can be called Alsava or Alsa. Hopefully we can be good friends. " Alsava was chewing on her inner cheek. Be prepared for a question-and-answer session, which means that she will have to accept further flirtations from the culprit in her new class. However ....

By the time Friday crept in, St. Valen’s had already learned her name. Not properly. Not the way that mattered. But in the way that traveled fastest in places like this: through whispers and warped retelling. The new girl from Manila. The Sombra heiress. The one with the Rottweiler. The one who told Luca Ashford “no” and smiled while she did it. Althea heard versions of herself she didn’t recognize drifting behind her in corridors.