Cedric 소설 & 이야기

Kiran said and Malachi chuckled. We went down to the basement and the men made a circle around me. In a corner stood Marcus next to a table with his equipment already unpacked. A shiver went down my spine at the thought of shifting into a wolf in a few hours. “Levi Sinclair, step forth and be presented,” Richard said. I took a step forward and Kiran moved with me, taking a step forward out of the circle of men. “I, Kiran Sinclair, Alpha of the Southern Alaskan Pack present your future Alpha Zeta, Levi Sinclair, to receive his mark and emerge as a man.” There were nine loud claps in unison.

His eyes broadened in frightfulness and he cleared his throat to attempt to cover up the truth that he’d fair essentially challenged his alpha over nothing more than a inviting smile. “Ach. Affirmative. Where are my conduct? Cedric, this is Bronaugh Lane. Bronaugh, this is my pack ace, Cedric Kincaid.” Cedric gave her a gesture. “It’s verra decent tae meet ye, Bronaugh,” he told her sincerely.

ALPHA ZAC "What's up Zac" Cedric greeted as he walked into the sitting area where I settled with a hot cup of coffee in front of me. Cedric is my beta and close friend. Ever since he lost his father who was a beta and his mother in a pack attack which the mountain pack rescued him from, he became my beta and close friend.

Then a hand went up. “It’s y equals mx plus b.” I turned toward the voice. The guy sitting next to me was Hispanic. Sharp jawline. Curly hair. Blue eyes. Arms like tree trunks. “That’s correct,” Mrs. Payne said. “And your name?” “Marcelo,” he replied. “My name is Marcelo.”

Caitlin grabbed a chair and sat down adjacent to me, her bare thighs squashing down onto the seat as she folded her ankles and leaned back. She gestured with her hand to let me continue, almost impatiently and I cocked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. This woman… "If," I emphasised. "You're willing. Your target would be Lucas Trevino, software engineer and owner of Godfather nightclub." I paused for her reaction and she simply just nodded her head waiting for me to continue.

Cedric murmurs. Harris immediately notices. His expression hardens, the playfulness vanishing. "Lord Cedric, what are you doing?." Cedric chuckles, a smooth, arrogant sound. "I simply appreciate beautiful things, Your Highness." Harris steps in front of Aiden, blocking the view. "Show some respect. He is my guest." Cedric smirks. "He isn't royal blood, is he? No. So what's the problem if I admire him?" His gaze shamelessly travels over Aiden again, lingering on his ass and chest.

Some of them cried into their wine. Cedric was fifty-two. His hair had gone gray, his knees complained on the stairs, and he squinted at menus when he thought nobody was watching. Gianni was fifty-five, and he noticed every time. He kept leaving reading glasses in Cedric's coat pockets, and Cedric kept leaving them on the counter, and that was the whole argument. Gianni was still dangerous if he needed to be. He was also still the only person alive who had known the boy under the scars and never once flinched.

I turned to look at him. "He told me his name is Elan," Cedrick said. "After his uncle. He showed me his wooden horse and told me his mother plays the piano better than anyone in the whole town." He paused, and something shifted in his eyes, something careful and searching. "He has my eyes, Beatrice."

The door opened again before I could speak. Damon walked in. His large Alpha body overwhelmed the small room, his presence filling the entire space with a new scent. His eyes flipped from Cassandra to me, then to the cribs where both twins were resting and growling. “Cassandra,” he charged, his voice cold. “Leave right now!” Cassandra was angry, but she later walked out. As soon she left, Damon shut the door and turned to me. “They are growing too fast,” he whispered to my ears. “And they carry a scent that does not belong only to you… don’t lie to me.”

“I think that it would suit him well. A strong name, and it would be one that carries his strength as a leader.” Marcel looked at me. “Leonardo,” he repeated. “Strong,” I whispered. “But thoughtful. A leader who listens before he commands.” Marcel’s jaw tightened slightly, but not in anger. In understanding. “Leonardo,” he agreed, his voice low. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to our son’s forehead. “Leonardo,” he repeated again, like sealing it. “Welcome to the world, little wolf.” Then Aria handed him the second bundle.