Bk Borison Novels & Stories

Marks pov I shifted to the back of my cell nervously; It took a lot to make me nervous but the dark look she got on her face was making me shiver. How could a woman that's so beautiful look so deadly all of a sudden? I asked myself and looked over at Raven to see if he felt the same as me. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face; oh he was loving this side of her. I wanted to facepalm myself, because off course he would love it, stupid Russian loves torturing bad people and the sadist in him was loving this. I shook my head and gazed back over to her when more people filled the outside of the cells, this wasn't going to end well. She just kept standing th

He picked up the pigeon and was about to throw it away, but when he saw the note at its feet, he picked it up first. His eyes rounded at the contents of the note. Which was then snatched by Diana in an instant. "Diana and George, it's Karrel, your father. I'm sorry that I was only able to answer your curiosity now. I'm still alive, but I can't see you guys. But I'm always watching you from a distance. I'm very happy and proud to see you both. Use your abilities wisely, if possible, I hope we can meet in the future. By the way Diana, if I may suggest a name for your son, I think Eugene Kyne Wallace would be a good one. But it's okay if you already have a name, I'm just making a suggestion

“Have you ever had this experience with any other person…. I mean, having it with a human?” “Nahh… you fucking know me, Brooks…” “Casey.” Letting out a short, amused snort, “CASEY. Do you feel great now?” “Preferable….. So have you ever had this experience before?” Brooks looked right into my eyes. Casey and I had gone a long way back ever since we were boys. His father was our household doctor who specialized in surgery, and he was fucking talented that he was able to build his household name, Brooks. And I love this name better and preferred addressing all his pups by the name.

"Obviously" "Uhn?" "He's inside. Chit chatting with the boys . You know that's the second thing he's good at. You'll think they've been friends for eons" johnmoore smiled weirdly. "How's lion's son doing?" Dami inquired. "He was discharged yesterday...and...Speaking of lion..."Johnmoore paused carefully picking his words. "I saw him at the party yesterday when we were leaving"

he emphasized, his words echoing with an unspoken demand for compliance. As Donovan loomed beside them, observing the conversation, Boma felt the pressure of Ronald's influence bearing down on her. His words carried an expectation, a legacy of dominance that resonated with his own view. Donovan's silence in the moment was already an established acceptance of his grandfather's counsel, a subtle endorsement of the familial status quo they both shared.

She turned again, but he spoke once more—this time, something that made her stop in her tracks. “I knew your father.” Serena turned slowly, eyes narrowing in curiosity. “You did?” Karl nodded. “Long ago. When I was a boy. I lived in your pack for a few years.” Serena took a few cautious steps closer. “How?” “My father was a traveling blacksmith,” Karl explained. “He moved us there when I was young. We stayed for a few winters. Your father gave us shelter when we had nowhere else to go. He was… kind. Respected. Fair. He gave my father work and a roof. And when my father died in an accident, your father made sure I wasn’t abandoned.”

"Damn! That bastard wolf! I missed him!" Bob cursed bitterly bringing his horse to a sharp halt. His teeth gritted coldly. He scanned the woods for any sight of him or even another unfortunate one of their likes. The werewolf he thought he had just caught had disappeared. He knew a little more distance and he could find their hideout or something that might lead him to them. But he would only be asking for his death if he walked in there. He was totally outnumbered and would be peddling.

He is a perfect A student, even a topper in the entire school. His grades have always been perfect and no one can break his record. That makes people envy him but at the same time his arrogance arises a desire in them to kill him. Mr. Gorge smirked while he adjusted his lens on the high bridge of nose. "Zion...." Someone called him but he didn't hear. "Mr. Black?" This time a more formal and stern voice grabbed his attention. Zion lazily looked at him but stayed quiet. He was waiting for Mr. Gorge to speak first. Mr. Gorge gritted his teeth and said, "Mr. Black would you mind coming here and drawing the whole nervous system?"

Not to mention the fiercest, the most powerful, and the richest. Boris lives in the Silverside Manor with his wife, Nikini Conway, Son, Geoffrey Conway, and daughter, Makena Conway. The most known family in the country and yet somehow, he saw my photography and is interested in it? It’s surreal. “Did you hear me?” Marian asked, eyeing me. “Boris Conway is interested in your photography.” I realized I hadn’t even said anything in response; I was dumbstruck. “I sent it to him,” she answered, I stared at her confused. “He was a huge fan of your mother’s work and when I saw your photography, I saw her within your work.”

Bryson said, “Beckham is not as simple as he seems, Mr. Yarde. It would be best for you not to act rashly before looking into the situation properly.” Kayson asked, “Are you acquainted with this person, Mr. Yost?” Bryson recalled for a moment. “I’ve interacted with him before… It’s hard to describe him, but I find him to be peculiar and unlike an ordinary man.” Kayson was slightly astonished because he figured that Beckham was just an ordinary man, unlike Bryson, who was a skilled fighter. Yet, Bryson described Beckham in such a peculiar manner. Hence, he said, “Noted. I’ll find an opportunity to get in touch with him later.”