Celeste Dubois Novels & Stories

Well, I didn't know, Kaanadan soon said: — But one thing I haven't understood until now: Why are you training? I moved a little and looked at the tattoo on his chest, running my finger along it to distract myself. — Maybe because I'm tired of being something fragile. — I say quietly. — I'm not like that, Kaan. And while I'm here... I can't deny who I am. — And who are you? We look at each other and I take a deep breath, releasing a light breath through my nostrils. — I'm Celeste... Celeste Brandão, the rebellious and non-standard daughter of the biggest mafioso in South America. Oh, and unfortunately she's married to you.

"I am Alpha Ezekiel, this is the Bloodhound pack. And you are a rouge in my house, surrounded by my warriors, and my pack of 1500 men. You're not the one with the power here, I am. So when I ask a question I except it answered. Now. Who. Are. You?" I clenched my jaw in frustration, he was right. I had no power. No choice. He could do anything to me right now. And I wouldn't have any help or any way to stop him. I nearly reached at the thought. I was fucked. Royally. With that in mind I responded to his question; "Cecil." "And where did you came from? Are there any more like you?" He fired the questions in quick succession. "The East Coast, I travel alone and have not come across another fema

Anastasia’s POV: “You have paint on your face.” I looked up from the mood board spread across my desk and found Celeste Dupont standing in my office doorway in a cream blazer and reading glasses pushed up on her head, looking at me the way she looked at everything, like she had already figured it out and was simply waiting for it to catch up to itself. “I was testing fabric swatches,” I said, reaching up to touch my cheek. “With your face?”

She vowed. Celeste had a soft, feathery voice which sounded funny when she got upset. At five foot six, no one called her short but her height and size didn’t intimidate anyone. Her innocent face and calm aura didn’t help her case but I didn’t doubt for a minute that she would pick up a machete and charge into battle if she set her mind to it. “What do you think is happening now?” I whispered, closing my eyes. The moon’s glow caressed my skin. At a normal time, we would be praying for the final ceremony of the Feast of the Moon as our shifters tore through the woods but not today.

The door clicked shut behind her. Outside, the city kept weeping. Inside, the game had just begun. Celeste poured two fingers of bourbon into a cut-glass tumbler and slid it across the desk. Vivienne didn’t touch it. “I don’t usually take walk-ins,” Celeste said, settling into her chair. “But you’re not a walk-in, are you?” Vivienne crossed her legs with the kind of grace that came from years of being watched. “No. I do yoga with a woman named Elise. She said you helped her… rebalance her life.”

“Miss Elaine.” The voice at the doorway drew her back. Celeste Valencia stood there, one hand resting against the glass frame, a tablet tucked beneath the other arm. Her sharp navy suit remained immaculate despite the long day, and her expression carried the same composed impatience it always seemed to wear. “If you’re done winning private battles,” Celeste said dryly, “we have a hotel project on life support.” Yesha blinked, then laughed softly before she could stop herself. The sound surprised even her.

“That would surely make the boys take notice!” Nestie then realized that Lisa was not alone. He knew Celeste de Luna after seeing her picture many times in magazines and in the occasional society news. “And you don’t need any introduction, my dear!” He then stepped out of his bedroom to come closer to Celie. “You are even more beautiful in person with impeccable fashion sense!” “This is Celie, my cousin!” Lisa said. “Celie, my program manager at the Institute, the one whom I told you would be coming with me.”

She hoped that this year she would be able to breed and bring forth a new generation to protect the forest. But she could not believe her own ears when she could hear the beat of the hoofs of her own sister. How was that even possible? Celeste was dead…she had long gone in body and soul to the Moon Goddess….then how now?? Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;

My name is Celeste and I am the daughter of a peasant couple, I recently discovered that my mother was sterile and I always wanted to know how they managed to have me, but they never wanted to tell me. They considered themselves blessed by the gods and so did I. I was not a millionaire. I could not complain, I was not a millionaire but I had a quiet life in nature and I never suffered from any kind of need. The only thing I didn't like was being isolated from the rest of the world, since I was little my parents forbade me to talk to strangers and never let me go to town alone. When I turned 18 I thought it would be different but it was not.

She answered. Chantelle, I need you to get ready for the party. "Don't tell me you've forgotten that today's is Damien birthday". Rosemary said. "No ma'ma I can't forget" . Chantelle said. We're expecting visitors in a few hours, and there's a lot to do." Chantelle looks up from the floor, her hands covered in soap suds. "What do you need me to do?" she asks. Her aunty continues, "You need to vacuum the living room, mop the kitchen floor, and set the table for dinner. " I believe you can handle that cause you've been doing it for years now". Rosemary said. I think the work will be much for me, please I'll be needing help. Chantelle said. "Will you shut it". Rosemary said. We've been feeding,