Carter Kane Fanart Novels & Stories

“But don’t worry, you’ll figure that out in no time.” Creeped out, I took a step back, putting distance between us. I hated how he was speaking to me; it was frightening. But at the same time, I couldn’t stop my mind from making up fantasies about this guy, either. “K-Keane,” Kasey said, and she looked so frightened to even speak his name that I almost laughed. “Carter wanted me to show her around.” “Sure,” Keane breathed, flashing a smile at me. As we stood facing each other, he reached into his pocket for a cigarette, slipping it between his lips before pulling out a lighter and lighting it. He took a long, hard drag and blew the smoke into my face.

Oceane saw Carol, she greeted her and took the fruits away with her. Kieran was drawing. When he saw Carol, he put down his brush. “I didn’t expect you to have the time to visit me.” “It’s off season for weddings now, so we aren’t too busy. What’re you drawing?” His drawing was on the abstract side, so Carol could only tell that it was a rose after examining it closely. “Who are you trying to be? Van Gogh?” “The doctor said drawing could calm me, so I decided to practice with Pete.”

Karter kisses our cheeks about fifty times before letting us out of his grip. The woodpecker knocks it’s beak against a tree trunk again, creating this loud tapping noise. It seems to have gotten closer while we were laughing in our own world. Karter groans, covering his ears. “Sage and I were just trying to name him. Got any suggestions?” Kehlani asks him. “Dinner,” Karter responds. His tousled hair lays wildly across his face. Kehlani and I gasp in unison, “absolutely not,” she responds as she pushes his shoulder.

Kane had been gone two whole years, travelling the world or some crap, we all knew it was a mate hunt really, at 21 he was still yet to find her. Kane and Kash were incredibly similar, so similar in fact that they'd often been mistaken for twins by anyone that didn't already know them. Both had fluffy caramel hair like Auntie Cece and dark brown eyes like Uncle Mac along with his fairly muscular form, yet stood a few inches taller at 6ft 7.

Chris laughed awkwardly, “not as much hidden talents, as working at a school and having to do art projects when I started. I can draw some animals. See if you like them?” I shrugged, “let’s see what you fucking got.” Chris went to draw some animals on a paper to show me, while the rest went to work and painted the room pink. April said it was a light pink or what ever the fuck the color is called. It was pink. Suddenly Kane came up with the brilliant fucking idea to look up templates on the computer. “What about like butterflies? Or ladybugs? Or dragonflies? Those much be easier than a whole animal?” Kane said.

KATRINA I thought Kane was a hotcake, which he is, but Cannon was on fire. He was dressed in a business suit, that made him appear like a CEO, and dark shades hung from his neck. He was a few inches than six foot and had walnut brown hair with cerulean blue eyes.

"Uhm, can I have your ticket?" Kane raised a brow, amusement flickering in his blue eyes. "Ticket?" he repeated, his voice deep, teasing. The redhead—Mona, according to her name tag—bit down on her plump lower lip, her gaze darting everywhere except at him. "Sorry, it's just... you look familiar." That made him chuckle. Oh, really? He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering to the large poster plastered beside her booth—a giant picture of himself, fists raised, the underground champion.

“Good.” My wolf stirs. “What about the other?” Nate’s mouth tightens. “Escaped. But.” He lifts his scraped hand slightly. “Not clean.” He opens his fingers. A sliver of dark wax sits in his palm, smeared with lint, like he scraped it from a seal mid motion. Pressed into it is a mark: a simple K cut deep enough to feel even without seeing. My pulse spikes. “K,” I whisper. Rowan Kane.

To which she flaunted, always needing to say, "and I never had braces." As for Kane, he was an introvert. He could even be associated with being a bad boy, since his character was very reserved. He had friends, but his friend group was not very large, and he only spoke when he felt like it. He was mean to people he found no reason to be kind to, and the worse was that he knew nobody would say something to him since his size was definitely frightening. He was six foot three, with wide shoulders and a built physique, a lean stomach with a sharp jawline that many envied. He also had black curls, and wore rings on a few of his fingers, his right thumb needing to have one. His eyes were a dark na

Though without him holding still while I was close enough to see it, I couldn’t read them. But I was immensely curious to know what they said. I could appreciate that unlike many men that had multiple tattoos, the same theme of art seemed to be carried on through all of Kane’s. Like he’s always used the same artist. My eyes slid down the outline of broad shoulders to a trim waist and down to where his backside indented along the edges beneath those silky pants. Mmm. Damn. He turned around across the bar. “So, I brought this stuff in here. He lifted the box. But you’ll have to decide where you want what.”