Novel & Cerita Beautiful Creatures Ethan Wate

One of the armed men didn’t even have time to move—he took the full brunt of the door to his chest and went flying backward into a broken beam with a crunching sound. And standing in the doorway— Ethan. His chest heaved like a beast who’d run through hell. His hair was a mess of sweat and blood. His eyes… his eyes weren’t even human anymore. They were glowing—silver and golden, like twin moons set on fire. And his mouth was parted just enough for me to see the flash of teeth. His fangs. Oh god. Blood dripped from his hands. It soaked into his sleeves, his knuckles torn from tearing through whoever had been stupid enough to stand in his way.

"The humanity patch... Beatrice said it only reacts to genuine emotional spikes. To things a machine can't feel." "I know," Ethan said, his voice steadying as he looked at the Weaver. He reached out and took my hand, his grip crushing and warm. "But to create a spike large enough to short out a body made of silk and stone... it has to be a total surrender." The cliffhanger hung in the air like the scent of ozone before a lightning strike. Ethan pushed the car door open and stepped out into the red dust. He didn't have a weapon. He didn't have a plan. He just had the resonance—the messy, unpolished love of a man who had broken himself to be real.

It’s so wild, and peaceful, andfree. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Princess,” says Ethan. “The water’s pretty—” I shriek as I step into the shallow water. The icy temperature jolts through my body and I shudder. “Cold,” finishes Ethan. He’s rolled onto his stomach to watch me. There’s a wide grin on his face. “I’d rather be... a little cold...” I begin, trying to hide the violent chatter of my teeth, “than caked in dirt... although you clearly don’t feel... the same.”

Echo’s Pov: I am Echo Belle Johnson. Really long name, right? Many people gets confused when I actually say that I own both the name Echo and Belle. Both of the names are contrasting with the actual characters I own. I don’t even understand why I have the name Echo when I was the most silent person when I was kid and why I got the name Belle when I was an ordinary beauty who wasn’t even in the top twenty beauty of the classes I attended to.

She sits up straight in her chair, leaning in. I nod. “Well, imagine something like one of those beasts—the long snout, pointy fangs, enormous tongue that doesn’t quite fit, uncontrollable slobbering, mangy fur, and these evil-looking unholy eyes. Imagine being caught somewhere between that wolf-like creature and a human. Mangled, twisted bones set at strange angles with patches of skin and tufts of fur.” I shake my head, my stomach turning just thinking about it. No, I can’t allow her to see me. Bexley isn’t leaning away from me. She doesn’t get up and dart out the door. Instead, she reaches a hand across the table. My paw lies within her reach. I want to pull it away, but I don’t.

"Things have changed since you left." "What kind of things?" "There are people living here who's not..normal. People who can transform into creatures at night." My eyes widened. "Werewolves?" "Yeah. But the beast is unlike the others. It's vicious and bloodthirsty. It kills people in its blinded rage." "So that was what dad talked about." "The Hunter group is going crazy for the beast. It's deadly and unpredictable. Not to mention that there's more than one." "Meaning the werewolves?"

This left me in the shadows, overlooked and undervalued, like a beautiful wallflower blending into the background. “Are you hurt?” Ethan’s voice, tinged with genuine worry, broke the silence. It was an unusual display of concern from him, revealing a vulnerable side to the typically impulsive and aggressive werewolf. Ethan, with his youthful charm and bad-boy aura, his double-slit chin, deep brown eyes, and beautiful dark brown hair, stood before me, a striking figure filled with concern. “Just a scratch on the thigh, it will heal by tomorrow. What about you?” I studied Ethan closely. I couldn't help but notice the dried blood that marred his face and arms.

She opens her mouth to retort when the bell rings and she unnecessarily widens her eyes before she turns to the mirror at lightning speed then leaps to the door. And I hear several squealing and smooching voices while I try not to gag. When they go on for about minutes with no intention of stopping, I can't help myself, "Get past my door already, I'm hardly interested in a live demonstration of how rodents colonize!" I hear snickers before I see them, clung together like chewed chewing gum to sienna, is Ethan. He's Latin American with a sweet Bronze complexion and a dozen piercing and ugly tattoos. He's smiling sickly with his teeth on display, "Darling Ree, you sound awfully jelly~ I know a

"You go to your room first. We want to talk in private." Cindy nodded, and she walked upstairs. After Cindy leaves, Mike pushes Ethan's shoulder. "Are you OK?" Ethan continues to indulge in his dream. He mumbled. "Beautiful." "What do you say?" Without answering Mike's question, Ethan continued talking to himself. "She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life." "You mean Cindy?" Mike looked at Ethan suspiciously. "She's as beautiful as an angel," Ethan spoke again. He was mesmerized by Cindy's beauty.