Brat Novel Novels & Stories

Anatoli One week passed with Masha in my home. Seven days of her not coming out of her room. She sulked and avoided me, and that was fine by me. Easier, too. She'd be here, safe and fed, and that was all that mattered. Martin arranged her tutoring and provided her with any needs she wanted—clothes and the like. According to what he reported, she was a bibliophile, a voracious reader. She also played the piano, and that was the only reason she ever left her room.

she responds with an easy smile and then continues focusing on whatever she’s writing, so I feel free to continue until I reach the snacks. Bram is still standing in front of them, but now I realize why he's taking so long. He's grabbing each one and taking his time reading the labels. My gorgeous dyslexic boy. "Hey, Bram," I say, trying to sound breezy and normal, then looking at the snacks like I want one too, "Do you like the selection?" "There’s only unhealthy shit here," he murmurs in complaint, still frowning and trying to read, “And I get super hungry when I’m bored. I can’t just eat this shit all day, I’ll turn into the Whale. You know, from the movie.”

"I didn't see you sneak in." No response. Just those solemn blue-gray eyes. She tried again. "Mind if I join you?" Still nothing. But she didn't look away. Amelia lowered herself into the chair with deliberate slowness, setting her plate between them like a peace offering. She broke a corner of toast and placed it near the edge of the girl's reach. A gesture. An invite. "I brought my secret weapon," she said quietly. "Cranberry glitter glue. The holy grail of preschool warfare."

A six foot, dark haired, athletic, bisexual man who wears eye shadow and earrings isn’t exactly the poster boy for Pakhan of the Bratva. But he grew up smaller than the other boys so he learned to scrap real early. When he got that growth spurt, he almost didn’t need it. No one can fight as dirty as Roman Dobrev. No one can see around corners and have eyes at the back of his head like my brother does.

But beneath all the P*******t perfection a weird undercurrent of tension hums through the place. The kids are not normal. Not in a 'gifted child bites classmates' way. In a genuinely feral way. One little girl, Poe, hissed at me during story time. Actually hissed., tiny teeth out and everything. Jax, who also works here, acted like this was completely normal behavior. “We don't threaten Miss Frankie,” he told her seriously while peeling a banana one-handed. “Remember what we talked about. No violence before lunch.” The child narrowed her eyes at me and slowly ate a crayon.

I just wanted to finish my degree, start my career as an author and lock myself up in luxury till the day I die. Zylith shouted at me many times before that I was not the problem. He was a sick man, I know that but the impression had been a lasting one. I was a freak to him and all he wanted from me was the ability to brag to his stupid friends that he had taken the freak in town to bed.

I jump out of my seat with a big smile on my face and throw my hands around his neck. “Thank you!” I exclaim and hear him chuckle lightly before I get up from the couch. Today has been exciting and eventful; it was the first time that I felt a bit relaxed in almost a week—reading in the Volkov mansion, running with Viktor and then Vanya, and now learning about the Bratva. It is a good thing that I’m a fast learner as well because Viktor had a lot to teach me. I will continue to observe them from the outside and remain nonchalant, and a bit dumb, but little do they know that I will be learning as I watch them.

I pick it up and notice that it has my name on it. Should I open it? I know it's not good to snoop around people's stuff but... at least I have to know what's in the box. I need to know. If it has my name, then it means it's meant for me. I carefully open the box and inside, I find a novel. 'JANE EYRE by Charlotte Brontë' Scott loved to read, alot. I bet he was going to surprise me with this novel later but... whatever happened, already happened. I will definitely read it.

He turned around and tilted his head. "Thank You." Her smile was small but filled with gratitude. "You're welcome and you can call me Azraiel." He watched her nod her head and left the medical wing with the brightest smile on his face. Alone in the room, Charlotte moved on the bed a little to lift the books he had left. She put them on the unoccupied space on the bed and lifted the first one to read the title. A small smile crept on her face as she read the title. "Basics of the Werewolf World" was a fifty-page introduction book for children at the Orchid Primary School at the Blue Orchid Pack. She leaned back and started reading about the new world she was going to be in for the rest of her

This was going to give him some time, and he had been itching to get his hands on more of the information in those books. Walking back over to the bookshelf, Bradford noticed there were thicker books, unlike the journal of his mother that he had been reading. These books read more like history books. These books spoke at length about what was done in order to defeat The opposing clan of casters that tried to take down the Bellevonnes Clan. Flipping through the pages, he could feel their age. He had to be very careful not to tear or smudge what was left of the writing inside of it. The edges of the book seem to be stained with time, and the great smell of glue and leather and paper lifted to