Codename Anastasia Ao3 Novels & Stories

“And she wanted photographs of her with Lycan Prince Enzo. Every moment they were together.” My stomach churns. Anastasia has been tracking me for three weeks. Watching me, photographing me, cataloging my every move. Planning something. “Did she say why?” Enzo’s voice could cut glass. “No. But…” The man hesitates again. “But what?” “But she asked me if I knew anyone who could do ‘wet work.’ That’s what she called it. Wet work.” The room goes completely silent. Wet work. The kind of work that gets people killed.

[WARNING: TRIGGER WARNING CONTENTS!] Rostam Clawmark and Greko Blazul: "!!!" "No way! No way! That is a lie!" Anastasia, who discarded her mate, stomped her broken foot repeatedly as she stripped any soft countenance, revealing her crazy personality to the thousands of beasts she had seduced throughout to march for her bidding. "This all a bad dream! You're a pathetic woman! You should be a cannon fodder, a human furnace for us—the chosen ones! I dreamed of your demise over and over again! Why is it different? Why?"

Caden’s POV “Arrgh damn!” I moaned under my breath as I leaned back, watching Anastasia, a girl I had cast my sights on for a long time now, ride me. She groaned in pain when I smacked her ass but despite this, she didn’t stop. One thing I loved about her though was her endurance and her wildness… She was one of those few humans who could be pushed to the wall but would never retaliate. Again, I smacked her ass, smiling when she bit into her lips, drawing blood, and with a new fierce determined look in her eyes, she began bouncing on my throbbing manhood, whilst throwing her head back.

"So good. Oh, yeah!” Then she felt Arthur's head at her entrance. She was slapped with her femininity. Arthuro built Anastasia. The movement of their body is mixed with motivation. Fast and instant. “Don't stop. hurry up Oh, yes! Oh!” her voices were intimate and sexual. Arthuro was sweating profusely. His sweats are also dripping on his attractive body. Anastashia seems to have gotten into a bad mood. She ran her fingers over Arthuro's hard abs and when she was sure it was coated with sweat, she licked her own finger.

“Some things can’t wait, Mother.” The air crackles. They’re smiling, but it’s a duel. Every word a blade. Anastasia steps closer, diamonds flashing. “You always did have… peculiar taste,” she says, eyes raking over my dress, my bare back, my trembling fingers clutching Nicholas’s sleeve. “Tell me, darling,” she addresses me directly, voice honey over broken glass, “what exactly is it you do? Model? Influencer? Or are you one of those girls who just… spreads her legs for the right last name?”

Beast's cold voice boomed in the room and Camelia Alvarado moved past Ana, crying with her hand placed at her mouth to keep her sobs in. The girl whose back was facing Ana was wailing so bad, that tears started falling down Ana's eyes. As Beast's eyes met Ana's honey orbs, she noticed how vulnerable he looked, before his expressions turned stern and cold. She couldn't help but think of his deadly expressions when he tried to rape her. There was so much resemblance to these two expressions that Ana, shuddered. “ Come on, Anastasia. ” The Hellion stepped forth and closed the door, before turning to her.

Aubrey asked Luca. Luca nodded. "I believe you tackled me first," I reminded him, amusement lacing every word. Ana put her hands up to her face and mumbled something in Italian. "You are not the son I raised," she said finally, looking at Luca in disappointed. "They left Vegas as soon as I had traced her scent, I couldn't just let her go," Luca said defensively. "Oh, and you couldn't trace his scent because of that stupid cedarwood and pine concoction he wears, could you?" Torrey asked me.

There’s something about him that feels off, even in the picture. Who the hell is this guy? I take a picture of the photo with my phone, sending it to Nero. If anyone can help me figure this out, it’s him. Almost immediately, my phone starts buzzing and I answer without hesitation. “What the hell is this?” Nero’s voice is sharp, cutting through the tension. “There’s an Alpha scent all over her place,” I say, my voice rough. “I found a note. She didn’t want to leave, but he forced her. And I found a picture of her with a man, but I don’t recognize him.”

“We should get some pictures for her loving husband.” As she speaks, I feel something metallic against the skin beneath my shirt. Soon, I feel it beginning to be cut open, and once it falls on either of me, she goes for my bra. ‘Kinky,’ I giggle to Anna. ‘Looks like she really wants to see what a real woman's body looks like.’ ‘You’ve got issues.’ Anna sighs. ‘Maybe.’ Turning my attention back to the world around me, I wait while Anastasia starts to work on my skirt. As her blade moves, growls of excitement escape the goons around me, and it takes everything in me not to grimace.

My name: Anastasia Sanchez. “Oh no!” I grunt. I stare at the screen in disbelief, my mind tottering with questions and fears. Still with trembling fingers, I click its title, my heart pounding ever louder in my chest as I face my fears. As the book’s information loads, my eyes widen in shock, my breath is halted at my throat. There, in bold letters, is the announcement that’s beyond dreading—BONDED II WILL BE WRITTEN BY ANASTASIA (ALONZO) SANCHEZ, A GRADUATING STUDENT FROM ADAMSON UNIVERSITY AS PER AUTHOR AGNESS’ PERMISSION, along with a blurb that makes me wanna pass out.