Colonel Christopher Brandon Novels & Stories

Brandon’s voice sounded right next to my ear a second later, causing a shiver to run down my spine. “I…I’m n-not!” I cursed myself for stuttering as I turned around slowly to face him. Brandon was wearing a dark red t-shirt today, with its sleeves pulled up to his elbows. The V-neck in the front was low enough that I could easily see the lines of his collarbone and paired with a pair of black jeans, he embodied the bad-boy vibe that he was well known for.

That was just the beginning of Ethan's crackdown on Lytton… … As the memory faded, Brandon sighed. Ethan was like his personal demon. Whenever the man appeared in his dreams, he would wake up from the nightmare drenched in sweat. "Uncle Brandon, are you okay?" Sky noticed something seemed off with Brandon. Brandon shook his head, saying, "It's nothing. Go keep an eye on that new commander." An hour passed. Under the tree, Eric was drenched in sweat. His mouth was dry, and he was feeling dizzy. His subordinates had sat down on the ground, feeling like they were about to suffer from heat stroke.

“Could’ve fooled me with the way you shut Carmilla down in front of everyone.” I shrugged. “She picked the wrong day.” Our food arrived, saving me from saying more. By the time we were halfway through our plates, I’d finally relaxed. My voice returned, and my hands stopped trembling. This, I could do. Work. Logic. No messy feelings. Brandon was in full CEO mode... focused, analytical, and sharp. I almost forgot the man also had a messy personal life tangled with Carmilla and a mysterious past he refused to properly address. Almost.

“I am afraid we will have to trust others to find Mrs Carlson for the moment while you search for things in Italy, '' Brandon announced. Unlike others he could not go, the world knew him as the best friend and right hand of Carlson Cobswell, and there was no way he would be able to pull out a perfect disguise.

Oh, MY GODDESS! "Brandon!"

When the two men laid eyes on each other their grins spread wide. “Hell Brandon, what are ya doing here?” the soldier laughed. “Aidan, me man. Ya are a sight for sore eyes,” Brandon said with a hearty chuckle and a hint of Irish brogue. “Ya are the last person I expected to meet up with in these parts. Why the dickens would ya fight in a war that doesn’t concern ya... and an officer no less?” “Colonel O’Connor to ya,” the man boomed with half-hearted authority as he turned to his soldiers. “This man is a longtime friend of mine. Release him at once.”

“Go on” “We found the identity of the man that had been keeping Miss Smith. He is…” “Brandon's personal assistant..” Ava finished for the officer and Laura frowned. “What did you say?” “Clinton is Brandon's assistant”

Before I could drag Silas to his feet, the unmistakable, heavy sound of combat boots crunching violently over the gravel path echoed through the glass dome. I spun around, drawing my blade in a lethal flash of silver light. I dropped into a defensive stance, my heart hammering. But I paused, lowering the tip of the dagger just a fraction when I recognized the uniform. It was Brandon. He was a junior officer, but one who had always shown absolute, unwavering loyalty to Alpha Kaelen. His black Vanguard armor was heavily dented, his face covered in soot and fresh blood. He looked completely breathless, his eyes wide with terror as he practically sprinted up to us.

"Atrus and Wilbur Penn are nothing as long as elder wakes up. He was already at the Emperor level when he was still alive, and we had prepared so much. As long as he wakes up, he will only have grown more powerful then. Do you think he would be thwarted by one measly Wilbur Penn?" "That's right! Besides, Brandon only has three hundred Special Forces officers and two barely-healed Sanctuary level cultivators with him this time. Meanwhile, we have an army of two thousand men, and all of us are armed. The five royal fleets under our control have also reached Morburn shores. They will be able to take down any force that tries to stop us once we get Brandon," another lieutenant said. Just then, a

Brandon’s voice came through, entirely devoid of warmth. “It’s… It’s uh, Nathaniel. Nathaniel Price.” A long minute passed in complete silence before the command came. “Come in.” I turned the knob and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind me. Brandon was seated behind a massive mahogany desk, documents scattered before him. He didn’t look up, keeping his eyes fixed on his work. The sheer aura of his dominance filled the room, making my wolf want to curl up and hide. “You have five minutes, Nathaniel,” Brandon said, finally raising his head. His expression was a mask of cold indifference. “What is so urgent that you had to blow up my phone like that?”