Caraval Stephanie Garber Novels & Stories

she jokingly asked. Stephanie poked her head out of the doorway. She was the complete opposite of Claire: tall, slender, golden skin, long raven black hair, and brown eyes. Your typical beauty queen. Even though Steph was almost 70 years old, the vampire genes made her appear to be about 20. She kept herself in great physical condition and the boys around town noticed. Hell, the men around town noticed. And she loved the attention. “I need something for my date tonight. Brad asked me to meet him at his place again. Bonfire and, of course, some lovin’ time. Soooooo, I need some of your boy clothes. Mine are too nice to be covered in smoke and dirt,” Steph replied.

It’s trapped somewhere between embarrassment, confusion, and the way Lucas looked at me earlier like I was something he didn’t know how to handle. The library is quiet. Peaceful. Predictable. The kind of place where emotions are supposed to stay muted. Then I feel it. That familiar rush of chaotic energy that only one person in my life carries. “Marcella!” I flinch slightly and look up. Stephanie is weaving through the tables, eyes bright, steps hurried, excitement written all over her face. She’s smiling so hard it’s ridiculous. A few students glance up, annoyed by the noise, but she doesn’t care.

Ardolf said. “I like your plan Cara, but your plan doesn't need Ardolf to work right?” Stephen asked as Cara nodded in affirmation. “Well then before we can succeed in this plan, one must remove all obstacles first, go ahead I will meet you there” Stephen gestured to her, his lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “Suit yourself” Cara scoffed and went away. “Ardolf” Stephen called as he turned to look at Ardolf. “I have always hated you, your constant nagging, your attitude and pretty much everything” Stephen hissed as he walked closer.

Garvin’s pov The dancers flowed with so much flexibility and confidence. Every dance step from them drew applause from the crowd. After a group dance, the announcer’s voice cut through the hum of the audience, clear and measured. “Contestant number one…Elena Fob!” She stepped forward and performed his dance, moments later, the voice returned: “Contestant number two… Stephanie brownie,” and that was how he went on and on, until it finally got to Mia’s turn.

Until the sound of footsteps distracts me, and I shift my eyes to see Cara walking away from us. She walks to some girls a few feet away and finally does something I haven’t seen her do since we met. She smiles and opens her mouth. "She’s so strange," I mumble under my breath, and James seems to catch it. "Uh?" I look back at him, but before I can speak, Andrea arrives with two cups in hand. "Here you go." She smiles as she gives one to James. "Thank you." "So my friends are over there, and they want to meet you. Want to come with me so I can introduce you?" She asks with hopeful eyes, and I wrap a hand around my arm, rocking on my heels as I drop my gaze to the sand.

Carter expressed with a genuine grace. Stephie paused, and she emptied the last drops of water in her cup. Carter watched her carefully. The young girl stared at the tabletop, wringing her fingers together beneath the table. All this was simply too good to be true, and if there's one thing Stephie learned was that no favor was truly ever a "favor". There was always a catch. "I'm sorry, you look like a nice guy, or at least this charade you're putting on is pretty convincing, but not for me." Stephie determined.

“I-I don't like this top. It's cool but…I'm just not sure about it. Is it…is it making me look like…?” “Like a person wearing a low cut top but is actually still a virgin?” Stephanie completed with a knowing smile. “Why, yes!” Liv squealed. Stephanie giggled and faced Charlotte. “See that? I got Liv to admit. Within minutes of meeting, I could just tell who she is. I'm like kind of a witch like that.” “Baloney,” Liv said and blew raspberry. “Everyone from California thinks they're kind of a witch.” “Well, not me. I'm a special breed,” Stephanie said. “I can tell if you're gay or straight just by looking at you, how many times you've had sex and even your body count maybe.”

The girl was undeniably better than her. She handed the tablet back to her PA and tapped her fingertips on the table. Carmen, her manager, rushed into the room almost immediately. Carmen's breath caught from running. "Have you heard?" Stephanie squeezed the wineglass in her hand until it shattered, cutting her palm. Carmen stammered, noticing the blood trickling down Stephanie's hand. "I see you... You have-have heard." "Who is she?" Stephanie asked, her face devoid of emotion.

If they had more rebels in the pack, they would crumble and Phoebe would not stick around with them. I leaned back in the chair, letting my hands fall to the armrests. My pack was stable. My warriors were loyal. My enemies were quiet. Yet I felt like everything was slipping. A knock came. Not loud. Not rushed. Just three slow taps. “Come in,” I said, not bothering to sit up straight. The door opened, and Stephanie stepped inside. She wore a pale green dress. Too thin for the weather. Her hair was tied up, but loose strands framed her face. I noticed her eyes before anything else. They looked tired.

It was not because I wanted his money, but because I wanted to show him that I wasn’t the helpless little girl he had tossed aside. The drive to the house felt like a funeral procession. The sprawling estate loomed in the distance, its manicured lawns and marble facade a stark reminder of the life I used to have. When we pulled up, I barely had time to brace myself before she appeared. Caroline, my stepmother, sauntered out of the house in her designer dress and heels, her lips curling into a smug smile. “Well, well, well,” she drawled. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence.”