Brandon Ness Novels & Stories

I look up at him, watching the way his eyebrows knit as he warms the part that Brandon touched. “Brandon’s specialty is ice magic,” he says. “He’s a prodigy in it, but as you can see, he’s got some personality issues. Normally, he’s a nice young man.” Feeling warm at his touch, I caress his arm. He freezes and looks at my face. Overwhelmed by my desire for him, I run my hands along the length of his arm. His features darken and I can sense his desire for me too. “After you are done with Harbin, you could have come to our room,” he says.

a smooth voice teased. I jumped. Brandon. He leaned against the doorframe, his lopsided grin in place, dark eyes scanning me with casual flirtation. He was dressed sharp today—navy suit, no tie, top button undone. Not as sinful as Ryan, but dangerously charming in his own right. “I’m being productive,” I said stiffly, closing the incriminating tabs. “Just…research.” He stepped in without asking. “You always research with that kind of concentration? I waved twice and you didn’t even blink.”

The cars driving into the compound caught their attention cassandra was in a short white pant and a crop top while tay had a beige pant with Kerl's shirt. “Wow, it's finally show time '' Brandon says with so much relief like this was some game to them. “Right this way gentlemen '' Brandon walks over to Roland and Henry who had smugs on their faces. “This place hasn't changed so much since the last time,” Roland says but Brandon is not in the mood for his sarcasm or bad manners. “It certainly hasn't, but you would have known if it did... But it is rather unfortunate you almost had your brother killed '' Brandon replies with a dangerous smug. His phone was hanging in clear view. He was ruthles

I don’t know the voice before I recognize the face. “Fuck”, I say under my breath, “Brandon". He is one of the few kills in my career that I couldn’t accomplish. He stares at me with deep brown eyes fixed inside deep sockets. His skin is almost the complexion of coal. 6'9 and all shoulders, he towers over all of us. Muscles from a naturally active lifestyle ripple under his taut skin. He watches me out of the corner of his eye, and I can tell he wants to kill me---shoot me.

I cannot think of a more suitable luna than you. Love, Brandon

In a family defined by massive egos, volcanic tempers, and enough shredded muscle to fill a stadium, you needed someone to keep the pot from boiling over. Brandon wasn't just some impulsive brawler, though. At 6’4”, with heavy shoulders and a frame built for impact, his prowess on the ice was undisputed. Along with Viktor Petrov, he formed the defensive spine of the Stormbreakers—Viktor was the silent sentinel, while Brandon was the life of the party. That lifestyle hadn't been an issue until a certain elegant journalist decided to splash Brandon’s late-night exploits across a digital front page, earning him a half-season suspension for "conduct detrimental to the pack."

Brandon's stance relaxed, his shoulders easing into a comfortable slouch. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" he said, his tone inviting conversation. Arc nodded, his gaze drifting towards the door Brandon was leaning against, his muscular frame relaxed, like a sturdy pillar. Brandon's brown hair was mussed, and his bright demeanor made him seem like a sun-kissed ray of sunshine. Arc's eyes narrowed as he assessed him, searching for the qualities that might draw Chelsea in. He had an effortless charm, a warm and easygoing persona that would likely captivate Chelsea.

"You look really familiar. Are you at Branston High? Maybe you know my brother?" "Yeah I'm in year eight. Who's your brother?" "Oh same as him, Shane Woodson, do you know him?" The smile falls from her face immediately and she takes a step back towards the stairs. "Yeah, I know Shane Woodson." She gives a wry laugh and disappears upstairs without another word. "That was weird." Nathan leans over and whispers to me. "Right. Clearly not a fan of my brother." We all chat quietly, well almost all of us, Jake is stoic as usual, while we wait for Kim to come out and swap with Eleanor who looks about ready to faint.

His features were more striking, his presence more commanding than I had anticipated. As Brandon drew nearer, I couldn't help but notice the striking contrast between his presence and mine. Standing at five feet nine, I was accustomed to being the tallest among the Volkov ladies, but Brandon seemed to tower over me at a height that must have been at least six feet five. It was a reassuring thought, knowing that I wouldn't have to worry about wearing heels around him; our heights complemented each other effortlessly.