Bloodedge The Minion の小説・ストーリー

It got even headier when he growled into her ear. “How is it that I can be jealous of my own daughter?” She turned her head to meet his mouth in a brief, searing kiss “Well, it’s not as if you haven’t been through this before… I’m sure you’ll survive,” she replied dryly. He smiled wolfishly, but then took Oona from Cassandra to place her on his shoulder and pat her back with all the dexterity of someone well-practiced in the art. Just then the fruits of his earlier practicing efforts exploded into the room. They were two black-haired, dark-eyed miniature versions of Sébastien, one slightly smaller than the other. They were both pulling at a green rugby jersey emblazoned with the Ireland logo

After searching for him everywhere, Kayla finally found her boo. He was seated downstairs, in the smallest and cosy living area of the mansion. They hardly used that living room and only came there for some alone time. The living room had a glass window which enabled one to see the beautiful view of the backyard. Whoever was in the room could see the backyard but people in the backyard couldn't see the inside. Brian had been in there for a while and he had seen everything going on in the event.

The minions remained impossibly close, their movements calculated, their dark, gleaming blades hovering menacingly near her body. The jagged edges of the weapons glinted dangerously in the moonlight, casting eerie reflections across the clearing. One minion pressed the tip of his blade close to her neck, while another positioned his at her stomach, both poised and ready to strike at the slightest movement. Their eyes, cold and unfeeling, betrayed no hesitation. They were ready to follow through on Thana’s orders without a second thought.

Athena's POV I wake up with a splitting headache, but the soft embrace of my Egyptian cotton duvet covers makes it bearable. Turning to my side, I spot Cassian lying on top of the covers, deeply engrossed in his sketchbook. He’s drawing something, his brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly, I’m acutely aware of myself—my makeup, the clothes I passed out in last night. I peek under the covers and realize I’m no longer in last night’s clothes; instead, I’m wearing a comfortable shirt from my closet. I’m still in my underwear, which means Cassian must have helped me change without taking advantage of me while I was out cold.