Blake Gray Imagines Novels & Stories

Not two seconds later, a knock came at my door, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and turned it on, the brightness of the phone practically blinded me but I could still make out the 2:00 am and the Saturday written under it. I yawned, "Come in." the door creaked open and Blake walked in, I was too sleepy to be the least bit surprised, I noticed that he had on active wear. He turned away, "You wanna come with?" he asked, almost sounding shy. I smiled, the sleepiness I had was swept away by joy, but the words of our screaming match--well mine, "Well, I kinda took back my invitation, so..." I teased. He chuckled, seeming more relaxed now, "I'll be waiting outside." he left.

No creases or signs of wear, unlike this whole damn trip. My life has been akin to the grease and fingerprint stained menu at Skippy’s, instead of this unmarred, obviously expensive paper. That’s Blake’s world. He’s clearly wealthy, most likely a lot wealthier than I initially thought. He’s not just a bigger fish than I thought; dude’s a friggin whale shark. Or an actual shark depending on how dangerous he actually is. Probably a great white. “Are you sure that’s all you want?” Blake’s smooth vocals coax me from my thoughts. His fingers play along my palm, drawing my attention towards him.

I might be naturally psychic but unable to control it. "Hey." Blake takes a seat by my table. His eyelids are swollen, and his expression screams grief. I'm guessing he has been informed about Harriet's death. It would explain the signs of exhaustion on his face. He is wearing a black hoodie, with his eyes so swollen that I can barely make out their color. The surrounding air screeches sadness, and he could use a shaving session. His hair is hanging down in streaks, definitely in need of a shower, and his skin looks dirty—as if he has been running through mud and not bothered to wash it off his face.

"I mean, I don't know what we—" Pablo waves me off with a knowing chuckle. "Please. You should see how he looks at you. Trust me, you're definitely something." Relief floods through me at being rescued from that mortifying conversation, but Gray's still watching me with that insufferable smirk. "Besides," Pablo continues, "anyone willing to go to war with Edward Blackwell over a girl is either completely insane or completely gone for her. And Gray's many things, but he's not insane."

Imagine you forgiving Oliv after everything she did to you, ain't you just wonderful? Lena held back her tears staring at Gray, her heart beating so fast and her face turning into tomato every now and then. “How about we start afresh?” Gray asked. “what do you mean??” “I am Gray Smith, the founder and CEO of Sunny Media. I'm here for a business deal, I kinda noticed you some days back. You are amazing, beautiful and just perfect for me.” “Well,I don’t want to be perfect for you, I am in love with another.”

he replies before smiling and walking out of Stanley's office. The man wants to laugh at how gullible and trusting the lawyer is. Finding his target is easier than he thought. He slides his phone out and sends a message to update his employer. Unknown- *I am looking into a family with the last name of Gray. She has gotten a job on their ranch.* Nick reads the message instantly, but he doesn't respond as fast as he did before. Seeing the name Gray makes him freeze and shatters the plan he had in place. Every shifter in North America has heard about the Grays, but Nick's family is more acquainted with them than most considering the pack was against everything his grandfather stood for.

One bright square in the middle of shadows. He was alone out there. Blake. Sweat soaked through his shirt. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead. He skated hard, circled back, and fired again. Missed. He cursed under his breath. He didn’t see me. Good. For a second, I just watched. This was not the Blake everyone else knew. Not the loud captain. Not the man who filled interviews with sharp smiles and easy words. This one looked… worn. I stepped closer to the glass. “You’ll ruin the boards at this rate.”

They’ve lived longer than I have. But here they are, acting like harmless pets, cuddling with him. An image flashes through my mind. Me at the stove, Caleb on the sofa, reading a book and laughing his stupid, obnoxious laugh I’d heard with his friends, the hounds cuddling around him. I’m so stunned by this image, I shake my head in disgust. “You know, he’s not her.” Gray says as we leave my room. I shoot him a glare that would be withering to others but not him.

Gray sits on my bed and pats the mattress next to him looking at me in a somewhat psychotic way, but I do as he says anyway and sit next to him. "You're finally going to tell me your plan?" "Exactly, it's time you hear this," he settles a little so he's facing me and clears his throat, "You're a very beautiful omega, Midnight, did you know that?" "I know it now," I reply, honestly. And Gray smiles, nodding his head as if pleased.

I heard another voice. I looked up to see Blake standing there—and he was a mess. If I was bad, Blake was ten times worse. His once cheerful face was hollow, his usual smirk long gone. Dark bags hung under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for weeks. His hair was unkempt, his roots growing out, and his skin was ghostly pale. A sudden, gut-wrenching wave of agony tore through me. Inside, my wolf howled in despair. What's wrong?! I demanded.