Connor Macmanus Novels & Stories

His voice boomed “Is this him? Is this Connor’s heir?” Clive stood and bowed his head and said, “Alpha Colin MacDonnell may I introduce to you Alpha Baylor Dunne.” I stood to shake his hand and greeted him with “Nice to meet you.” Alpha Colin nodded and said, “The honor is mine, your father and I were close friends for many years. Luna Freya and I miss the friendship we had with your parents. The Reed Moon Pack and Skatom Mochain Packs often interacted for celebrations,” he told me.

"Sir P…" "Shut up!" Connor barked. Glancing at the female with the most infuriated but indifferent expression he could possibly conjure on his chubby and food-stained face. "Don't you know you don't speak your master speaks? Of course. That's why you got her so cheap McAllen, this one's slow. They're all slow" he cackled, McAllen joining in. Just then, a figure walked in with a large mug of rum on the plastic tray he 'proudly' held. Still lost in the laughs and insults, Connor payed no attention to the man as he calmly dropped the mug of rum on the wooden table just in front him.

Connor was not sure with the way he was slipping in and out of consciousness. He looked older than Connor remembered. He was now streaked with gray, but his presence was as solid as ever. Tino, the last man loyal to Alonzo Romano—Connor’s father, the former Italian mafia don before their world had been wiped out like ash in the wind. He had been in hiding for almost three years, just like Connor. And now, he was all Connor had.

My woman, my queen, and still too soft for the things I was about to do in front of her. Luca nodded once. “He’s talked a little, the Name’s Connor, Low-level muscle for the Irish. Says the order came through a burner phone after the Commission meeting ended. Cash drop already made.” I released Lenny’s hand and walked straight to the chair. Connor’s face was already swollen from Luca’s work, blood crusted under his nose and his eyes flicked to Lenny and widened. “Don’t look at her,” I said quietly. “Look at me.”

Sandy blonde hair that was tussled around but in a way that made him look good, he was a lot taller than me only wearing work out shorts and the perfect eight-pack with the v-line disappearing into his shorts. I stood there dumbfounded, just staring at him. My head was a muddled mess. I couldn't think straight. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life. But then my head started to clear and I realised something. I was talking to someone. I was talking to another person when I shouldn't have been. I'm not allowed to talk to anyone besides Father and Luna. And I immediately bowed my head to look at my feet. "I'm Alpha Connor. Who are you?" He asked gently.

If anything, this strengthens my resolve to push back against the Mitchells and whoever else might be behind this smear campaign. One thing stands out to me as I read further into the article—Connor. His name is mentioned, not just as a casualty in the crash, but specifically as my bodyguard. That detail is strange, and it bothers me. Connor’s role was something we kept quiet, especially since he was only recently hired and supposedly working for an agency that doesn’t even exist anymore. The article paints him as part of the crew, yet somehow, his real identity is exposed.

My heart would break if she saw me and didn’t recognize me. Fred knocked firmly on the door, and my heart banged against my chest. We waited for a while before a middle-aged woman opened it. Her eyes narrowed, intuitively suspecting that something was wrong. “Who are you?” She stepped back. “How can I help you?” I greeted her respectfully. “I’m Adonis, the Lycan Alpha,” I said, and she immediately bowed on her feet in respect. “Rise,” I said softly to her, and she did, trembling slightly.

The man could easily hurt the whole pack and we wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, not unless we’re able to play him at his own game, which is something that we can’t do as he is an Elder Lycan while we are normal wolves, regardless of our ranking. “Katerina, do you trust me?” “With my life, obviously” I said without hesitation. “Then why are you doubting me now?” Nathan asked, shaking his head in confusion. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to calm myself down before laying my head on his chest, fisting his shirt as I did. He wrapped his arms around me, and kissing the crown of my head, he let his lips linger there for a second before pulling away, resting his cheek

There was a scream of pain from the other side as the wood splintered and cracked under the force. “What have we here?” Connery wondered aloud as he pulled the man out. It was not, as he had initially thought, Logan Wren, but rather the warlock, Aaron. “F-k man!” Aaron cupped his nose, blood streaming. “You f-king broke my nose.”

Low. Bastardly melodious. Unmistakably Irish. I step into the dim light, and there he is. Cormac Donnelly. The Irish Consigliere. He’s taller than I expected. Maybe six two. With broad shoulders filling out a dark gray coat that looks more suited for a winter funeral than a meeting in the stinky sewers.