Clone Cadet นิยาย & เรื่องราว

He turned on his heel, gesturing toward the vehicle idling in the private bay. My jaw dropped slightly. I had expected a nice car. Peter drove a McLaren, so I figured it would be an expensive sedan or a standard luxury SUV. What was waiting for me was a literal tank. It was a matte-black, heavily modified Cadillac Escalade with reinforced steel panels, windows so thick they had a distinct, dark green tint of bulletproof glass, and run-flat tires that looked like they belonged on a military transport vehicle. The engine let out a low, menacing rumble that vibrated through the concrete floor, echoing off the walls of the garage.

“This one is numbers. I’ll send it to you. Seems like there are over a dozen?” Maddox nodded. “I wonder if that is the rest of the information from the sheets he gave us. “Could be,” Cade said, pulling that one out and inserting another. “This one has two pictures..” He held out his phone to show Maddox. “I know him…” Both men looked down at me. “What?” “Yeah. The first guy. He was a regular at my shop. He owned a black Dodge Challenger and could come in regularly for tune ups.” Snapping my fingers together, his name finally clicked. “Clint… Clink Stevens.”

That’s why I joined the Cadet Program. You see, the Cadet program was created about 50 years ago to help train warriors. Ghost Pack had just ended a war and had many casualties, and many buildings were destroyed. The war showed the former Alpha that his pack members weren’t trained well enough, and weren’t prepared to defend themselves and their pack.

Thus, the application and heartbreak that damaged his entire life, will it give way for his heart to accept Mike without any hesitations? Welcome to CAM and find your ideal streamer!

I shook my head, then smiled a little bit. “It is something that I cannot disclose because if I do, he will force me to do that,” I replied. “In the name of Devious Clan, I Marcus Devious, son of Roger Devious, shall be your shield and will never leave your side to protect you from harm… You may summon me anytime you want… my flesh and my blood is in your hands… through this drop of blood, I shall be your loyal knight throughout your life and shall die if I become disloyal to you, my master, Clementine Westernia, half demon and half human, the princess of Westernian Empire and the heir of the demon world,” Marcus said, then he cut his palm using his sword and drop the blood in front of me. A

October 15th, 2045 Golden light bathed the Citadel Plaza. Tunde stepped out of the sleek black limo, welcomed by a graceful burst of camera flashes and warm orchestral music rising from a live quartet nearby. The plaza sparkled with white marble tiles, water fountains, and floating light drones capturing every moment in soft focus. He was dressed in an elegant white agbada embroidered with fine gold thread, a custom piece from the Citadel’s top designer. His smile was calm, collected, but unmistakably proud. This was not arrogance—it was earned triumph.

"Marcus mentioned you are from the Northcrest territory. I have heard your pack produces the finest trackers in the entire continent. Is that true?" My grip tightened involuntarily on the delicate flute. Marcus—not the dead heir whose body my father had supposedly desecrated, but his younger cousin who had inherited both the name and the insufferable arrogance. "We do pride ourselves on our hunting skills. My father was considered one of the best before he passed." "How tragic. My condolences." He did not sound remotely sorry. "Perhaps you would honor me with a dance? I would love to hear more about the northern territories." "But of course." I flashed him a smile that promised absolutely no

"The more he looks, the more he'll realize he’s looking at a shadow of what he used to have." ​As we walked toward the parking lot, the silver glint of Mateo’s car passed us, heading toward the exit. Mateo didn't stop, but he gave a single, sharp flash of his high beams—a silent salute to the mission. ​We reached Ashton’s SUV just as the first few heavy drops of a Manila downpour began to hit the pavement. I climbed into the passenger seat, the familiar smell of his citrus soap grounding me. ​"Hungry?" Ashton asked, starting the engine.

The man was either not a people person or he clearly didn’t get any sleep on the flight over. “Cadillac Escalade,” Joe answered. “What make?” “Huh?” Talia blurted out. He couldn’t be serious. “2013 Hybrid,” Joe answered, not missing a beat. Enzo nodded his approval, stepping closer to Joe. What? Was DeLuca’s royal ass really too preciously selective about what he would dare ride in? Calm down Talia. You’re tired and sleep deprived. Just don’t say it out loud.