Clone Captains Mga Nobela at Kwento

I tried to pretend my blood wasn’t rushing and my heart wasn’t already trying to race ahead of me. And then he appeared. Dante Kade. I didn’t need anyone to point him out. I just… knew. He wasn’t skating like the others. He glided. Effortlessly. Silently. Like the ice belonged to him and the rest of the team was just renting space. His jersey clung to him, black and marked with a captain’s “C” near the collarbone, and beneath it, the sharp lines of his body moved like they’d been sculpted specifically to intimidate. He was tall—ridiculously so—and the way he maneuvered through drills with barely a sound made my skin break out in goosebumps.

"I don't want this. Any of it. The second this contract ends, I'm getting away from all three of you." Silence dropped fast and heavy. "You can't get away from us." Jasper said it quiet, certain. "Not until we're done with you." "Excuse me?" "You heard him." Declan stepped closer, something dark settling into his expression. "You can leave whenever you decide you're finished with us. That's the only version of this that ends with you walking away clean. But as long as we're not done, your freedom isn't actually yours to claim." "That's insane. You don't own me. None of you do."

“Fresh prints! They went off toward the outlands.” “Follow it,” I ordered immediately. “Do not lose them.” Vance leaned in closer to me. “The outlands are dangerous, Alpha. Full of outcasts, rogues, and smugglers. If they took her there—” “Then we burn it down if we have to,” I cut him off. “Avery is mine, and no one or pack law will stop me from taking her back.” “Understood, Alpha.” Vance’s tone was grim but filled with the loyalty of a Gamma who knew his Alpha’s anger was justified.

Seeing the feet pause outside of the stall, I shoved the door hard outward, smacking whoever had been standing there. Not bothering to wash my hands, I quickly unlocked the bathroom door and ran out, only to be captured by the freaking guy. “Let me go, asshole,” I muttered bitterly. “Are you Jade Pinkerton?” He inquired and I eyed him strangely. “What if I am what it is to you?” I questioned. “I am a member of the OCH, and we are a worldwide organization,” he stated, and I gave him a stoic glare. “Order of the Cryptid Hunters and I knew your father. I recognize his ball cap and you have his eyes.”

My own claim sat on the opposite side, dark and fresh, the two marks facing each other across her throat like a war zone. Every part of me went still. "Whose is it?" I asked, my voice flat. She didn't answer. Her hands tightened on my wrists. "Whose mark is that, Keshera?" "It's none of your business." "It's absolutely my business," I said, my voice rising despite myself. "You're standing here wearing another Alpha's claim on your neck like it's nothing. Whose is it?" "I don't even know what that means," she said. "I don't know what a claim is. I don't know what an Alpha is. You keep throwing these words at me and expecting me to understand them."

Rei looked at him. "Then if I destroy the network..." "I die." Dominic's eyes narrowed. "That's why you wanted our bond." Caelan nodded. "Yes." Rei looked at him. "You weren't trying to free yourself." "I was." "You were trying to replace yourself." Caelan didn't answer. Rei's voice became quiet. "You wanted Dominic to become the new anchor." Dominic stared at Caelan. "Is that true?" Caelan looked at him. "The network needs an Alpha."

He sliced his own thumb, then pressed his wound to hers. Pain exploded up her arm. Not the sharp sting of a cut, but a molten burn, as if liquid silver were being injected into her veins. She gasped, trying to pull away, but his grip was iron. When he finally released her, a mark bloomed on her wrist: a wolf’s head, its jaws clamped around a crescent moon, the lines glowing like embers. “The pact is sealed.” His voice was rough, almost hoarse. “Three nights. Midnight. The den.” His gaze raked over her, slow and deliberate, lingering on the curve of her collarbone where her coat gaped open. “Wear something… easier to remove.”

"Your mark? You speak of this?" She curled her fingers, and the air resonated, bits of light spinning like broken stars around her hands. "The cuff-links that kept me captive? Gone. I am no longer your puppet." Vladimir's eyes sparkled. "You think tossing them away sets you free? You've only just begun to learn what true captivity is.". "Captivity? I lost everything—my family, my home, my future. And you? You took it all to build your throne on bones."

The air in the building instantly grew heavy, thick with a suffocating, murderous aura that made it hard to breathe. The triplets had arrived. They didn't come in their human forms. Three massive, terrifying wolves crashed through the glass ceiling, down into the center of the mall. Alaric’s huge midnight-black wolf landed first, his jaws snapping shut around the neck of a cloaked hunter before the man could even scream. A horrific crunch echoed through the wide space as he tore the man's throat completely out.

His empire was about to be dismantled in front of his eyes. "We're going to sell them," Dimitri said to his men. "Put them in the buses. They're merchandise now." The men started moving captives toward the exits, herding them like cattle. They were screaming, struggling, crying. It was chaos and violence and suffering all mixed together. Then Dimitri's eyes caught something.