Christopher Lightwood Novels & Stories

Liam shook his head and walked toward the big guy nursing a beer at his kitchen table. "Hey man. You remember my little brother, Ethan, right?" Liam stopped beside the guy as he glanced over his shoulder and nodded at me. "Your brother is the next James Bond, idiot. Of course I know him. Everyone does." He stood and extended his hand to me. The thin bony kid that looked like he was always scrapping for a meal was long gone. The dude in front of me looked like something out of a special ops group. Dark brown hair cut close to the scalp, tanned skin and a mean ass look on his face that warned anyone that came around, this fucker wasn't buying anything, including Girl Scout cookies.

"Ms. Leighton, this entire diary is obviously fabricated nonsense. There's no point reading any further!" As he spoke, he pulled out his phone and tried calling me. "You little jerk! Get over here right now and explain yourself to everyone!" But how could the call possibly connect? I had already died in the hills from snake venom. The livestream comments went wild again. [He's not answering because he feels guilty!] [That diary was definitely written afterward! He just can't stand seeing his brother get into Kingstone College!] [Exactly. If he was really assaulted, why wouldn't he call the police? Is he dumb?]

Could I do that? "Hello, love" That voice made me smile "Has he visited you yet?" she asked. “Oh yeah. Thanks for the gift, Sofia, they didn't have to do it,” I replied. “We didn't have to? Are you forgetting everything you have done for us? Christopher, it's about time you start to live, you no longer have to prove anything to anyone, you have everything a businessman is expected to have. You deserve to be happy Chris, but you won’t find happiness in the office or in your apartment which you have above your head; when was the last time you went out to see the light of day or the moon?” she asked, although thank God I didn't have time to answer because I had no answer for that. “Tell me you

She doubted that some eleventh-hour miracle would save her tonight. Christophe reappeared and shed his toweling robe in an untidy heap on the floor. He looked at her, blazing all-male satisfaction, and Lara shrank under the sheet. He stood half in shadow, half in light, the long, muscular planes of his golden body a glorious vision of rampant masculinity, and Lara felt her own hunger stirring, insidious as a secret invader.

They were sharp and observant, reflecting his keen instincts and unwavering focus when facing the forces of darkness. In terms of physical appearance, Christopher was a staggering 6'4", with the body of someone who had seen their fair share of action. He possessed a strong, muscular build that spoke of years of training and combat experience. His body was honed to perfection, a testament to his dedication and unwavering resolve. His broad-shouldered frame spoke of strength and determination. As he approached Logan's desk, Logan couldn't help but notice the confident but measured way Christopher carried himself. Christopher took a seat, his back straight and his eyes focused. It was clear he

He walked over to them, his grave voice issuing silence and commanding attention. “I am Nicholas Lightwood of the Lightwood's pack,” He began and murmurs of acknowledgement enveloped the pub. Of course they knew who he was, and they all suddenly adjusted, composing themselves. A true born Alpha werewolf was towering before them. Well, except for one man, a bulky, short man in dark shades stood up. Seems to be the leader “Yeah, we know you are,” his response was curt, unwavering. “What brought you down from your castle in the sky to come talk to us?” He asked fearlessly.

the young man announced, taking my hand and placing a tender kiss on it before letting it go. I smiled at him, and he returned my smile with a bigger, brighter one that revealed his beautiful teeth. Lycan Christopher was a dark-skinned man with jet-black hair. He had sharp cheekbones and deep-set hazel eyes that seemed to sparkle under the chandeliers. He held himself with a confidence that was both commanding and inviting, making it hard not to be drawn to him. “Chris, you sure know how to make an entrance. I thought you were so busy with work and couldn’t make it,” his mother teased.

Valerius contemplated before turning to Cassian Lightwood: "Cassian, what is your opinion?" Cassian Lightwood, renowned for his literary talent from a young age, had passed the imperial examination at twenty and was now around twenty-seven. Valerius trusted him greatly, having sent him on diplomatic missions and tasked him with significant responsibilities. Cassian replied gently:

I clicked on my lighter, but nothing happened. “Here,” and a flame appeared from my right. I leaned in, pulling on my cigarette to get it going. I looked further up the arm, and there stood a young man, probably a little older than me but not a lot. He had a buzzcut, something that looked like he did it himself, with impeccable green eyes. “Don’t mind Ed,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “He was born that way, and we can’t seem to change it.” His accent was so thick, I had to concentrate a little to understand what he said. “I’m Liam,” he ended, holding out his hand.

If not, his Saint Realm dream would go down the drain. “Haha, time’s up. Miss Fellowes, tell everyone who the Hammer of Thunder will go to now! Archimedes is a coward. He doesn’t dare to bid anymore. I was right just now. He’s just an heir, how could he have so much money? The Lightfoot family is rich, but it’s their money. Archimedes can’t represent his family. I guess I’ve won. Archimedes Lightfoot, admit your defeat! You will only live in my shadow for the rest of your life. You will never walk out of it, haha!”