Cold Front Game Augustine Novels & Stories

“Whatever happens, I don’t care. But no one needs to know. Even Fiona and Eitin. - No one will know, I promise. We froze, tense, trying to comprehend what is emerging between us right now and where it can lead us. Then August lifted my face again and kissed me slowly, frankly prolonging the pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she stroked his short dark hair. A good hunter's hand slipped gently under my shirt, pressing me closer. I melted from the soft movements of the hot palm, which slowly slid over my body, suffocated from the gentle touches of the lips and tongue. She clung to his shoulders, afraid to fall, feeling weak and slightly dizzy, as if she had drunk Fiona's strong wine

Northern Coastal City: August's POV- The rain in the northern coastal city of Blackwood didn’t fall; it spat. It was a sideways, freezing drizzle that coated the windows of the black SUV in a layer of grime. ​August didn't care about the cold and he certainly didn't care what day it was back at the manor. ​"Tell me everything, Yellow. From the beginning," he ordered in a dangerous rasp that cut through the sound of the windshield wipers. "Do not skip a single breath."

"The one I sent away. Adrian Dawson." The game was changing. The shadows were moving into the light, and as the blizzard roared outside, I knew that the silence of the Alps was about to be broken forever.

I say. August proceeds. The heat stays for two weeks and then breaks in the specific way Ironveil heat breaks, suddenly and with rain, the kind of August rain that comes overnight and leaves the grounds cool and clean and smelling like something that has been rinsed. The Thursday call in the second week of August runs four minutes. Edrin asks about the mountains. What do the mountains look like today, he says. I am in the room when Selene takes the call. I watch her go to the window.

Mendy and I exchanged puzzled glances before I approached the door and cautiously opened it. Lo and behold, standing in the doorway was Augustine, one of the wolves from the pack. His usually composed expression held a sense of urgency, and I could sense that something significant had occurred. He rarely smiles and does his thing on a low note without minding what other people think of him. "Augustine, what brings you here?" I inquired, my curiosity mingling with a tinge of concern. His gaze shifted from me to Mendy, and he took a moment before responding. "I came to inform you that there won't be movement for three days. Everyone is expected to stay in their pack."

Finally Allen O’Brien sat up, looking groggy. “Lord, it’s warm, ain’t it?” he said. “Why, this is spring, son,” Augustus remarked. “If you’re looking for warm come back on the Fourth of July. We usually thaw out by then.” When he was sure both Irishmen were awake he went back to the house and came out with his rifle. “Well, let’s go,” he said to Jake. “Go where?” Jake asked. “I just got set down.”

"What game are you playing?" Augustus' grin widened. "A game of survival. There's a storm approaching, and alliances will determine who weathers it and who gets swept away." Nate remained stoic, his distrust evident. "Get to the point, Augustus." Augustus' proposition unfolded with a sinister gleam in his eyes. "Return my niece and everything will go back to normal.” I looked at Nate who laughed heartily, “NEVER!” Augustus' eyes narrowed, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "Very well, Nate. But remember, the storm spares no one."

In this second attack, he was unable to cope. The Divine Frost Slayer Blade struck its target. In just an instant, it broke through Augustus’ defense line. The sharp sword essence pierced through him and he instantly died. Until the moment of his death, Augustus' eyes were filled with unparalleled horror. He couldn't believe that he would die like this. Nonetheless, he fell heavily to the ground. Adrian stood tall, the mountain wind blowing past him, adding a touch of solemnity to his demeanor. Having dealt with Augustus, he didn't linger. He was very close to the sacred mountain now. After a brief rest, he continued his journey.

After I made love to Cleo yesterday ; I noticed that she was way paler than the last time I saw her. I blamed the weather because it was frigid outside . The one thing you can be sure of in August in South Africa ; is the gusts of wind and cold fronts that continuously blow throughout the month , and since we are in the east coast , any cold front that passes , is accompanied with cold and wet weather .

Guns are useless on his body in this; they would only make holes. Slash! Augustine cut through my flesh from the back before I could turn. My clothes tore together with my flesh. I managed to turn back, sending a punch into his artificial eyes. Augustine screamed, staggering backward, holding his head so hard. My hand hit his chest, not giving him time to heal. I hit and hit till my hands hurt. I then shifted backward. “Done,” Augustine smirked. “What?” My eyes widened. I thought he was in pain earlier. How the hell did he look this fine?