Cordelia Fine Novels & Stories

I helped Liam down from the island top and walked out in hand with him to greet our visitors. Even though it was still only morning, Mrs. Cordova was already spiritedly chatting away with her friend, pointing out all the details and ornaments along the walls as Ms. Mellisa stared at the interior of our house in awe. I guess it was the first time Ms. Mellisa had visited our home due to Achilles's overprotectiveness, but I figured that Ms. Mellisa was a safe person. She had apparently been friends with the Mrs. Cordova for decades, even before Mrs. Cordova married Achilles's father, and generally acted as a good balance to Mrs. Cordova's overly energetic personality.

One could see the flicker of excitement on people's expressions. A little girl somewhere asked her mother what they were buying for Christmas. Cordelia watched under her hoodie, her gaze blank as she observed the mom dusting the snow from her hair. “A doll,” she said. “With blue eyes, the one you've always wanted.” Cordelia dropped her gaze away from them. “Humans. What a psycho creature,” she mumbled, sipping from her red wine. The door's entrance bell rang. Cordelia looked up, her lips curling into a small smile.

"I am Alpha Ezekiel, this is the Bloodhound pack. And you are a rouge in my house, surrounded by my warriors, and my pack of 1500 men. You're not the one with the power here, I am. So when I ask a question I except it answered. Now. Who. Are. You?" I clenched my jaw in frustration, he was right. I had no power. No choice. He could do anything to me right now. And I wouldn't have any help or any way to stop him. I nearly reached at the thought. I was fucked. Royally. With that in mind I responded to his question; "Cecil." "And where did you came from? Are there any more like you?" He fired the questions in quick succession. "The East Coast, I travel alone and have not come across another fema

Thankfully my hair is all-natural, unlike Steph. "Are you okay?"I asked Carmen. We were sitting at the bar. She was calming herself down with her fourth gin and tonic. "I've never been better actually. She deserved everything she got after what she did to Ethan. All this time she was just as fake as her hair."She threw Stephanie's extension towards me on the bar and chuckled."I always hated her." "I think it's safe to say that she's not coming to your wedding now. She's probably already called Ethan and told him."

Mary Redferne As the music throbbed and the chatter of the party filled the air, Judith and I found ourselves tucked away at the bar, indulging in some light-hearted gossip. We sipped on our drinks, occasionally rolling our eyes at the flashy displays of wealth around us—the flashy jewelry, the designer outfits, the pretentious conversations about stock portfolios and exotic vacations. Suddenly, Judith nudged me, her expression eager as she leaned in close. "Mary, there he is," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the din of the party. "Joshua just walked in. It's time to put first phase of our plan into action."

The morning after the midnight confrontation at our doorstep, the estate was hit by a different kind of chaos. Before the high council could even convene to discuss the bruised throat Draven had left on Valerie, a piercing scream echoed from the southern gallery. Cordelia had collapsed on her way to the morning chapel. Her personal maids found her face-down on the cold granite floor, her breathing shallow and her skin a terrifying, translucent gray.

“Two Way Street. Cordelia, 7pm, High Street.” Cordelia. Cordelia was the name of the wedding singer they had hired. A pretty, young woman with a slightly husky voice that Owen had thought was great. She’d had a good repertoire, and an easy-going charm that made her very approachable. Emily had thought she seemed a little spacey and vague and had hoped she would not prove unreliable on the day, but Owen had been keen to give her a shot.

Cordelia had listened in whenever she could, and little by little learned more than her cousin did. Flopping down onto her small bed, Cordelia revelled in a moment of relaxation. Her blue skirt landed around her like petals. Although her room was tiny, and sometimes chilly, she loved it. No one else ever climbed to the top of the house where she was tucked away. She had slowly collected the stubs of candles until she could fill her tiny windowsill. As she lit them, she felt as though she were casting a spell. Running her hands along her quilt, she could feel the scraps of her childhood dresses. She reached for one of the books she kept hidden behind her dresser. Lately she had been entranced

Just as I was about to step into the exam hall, a red Porsche pulled over on the side of the road out of the blue. The car door opened, and Cordelia emerged from the car, rocking a full face of makeup. On top of that, her designer purse and her big, wavy curls were a complete mismatch with the solemn atmosphere at the exam venue. Next to her, Nathan held up an umbrella, carefully shielding her with it like an employee attending to his boss. When Cordelia spotted me, her eyes lit up suddenly. Then, she strutted toward me in her heels. "Well, well. Who do we have here?" she exclaimed, her voice as sharp as nails on a blackboard.