Cornrows Women Novels & Stories

“She’s practically naked! What have we as women come to? How scandalous!” I did a double take and looked at this so-called scandalous woman. She wore black satin with an over-bust harness. Her shoulders were out and her hair was tied back and one single braid falling down her back. She wasn’t wearing a corset, her dress went down below her knees, and swooped outwards. Dark red rouge painted her lips and she held herself beautifully. I remembered her earlier as the Luna of the Skyridge pack. I knew why Ava called her scandalous. Women were expected to have tiny waists and wear corsets. The standards we were held to were ridiculous. The only time we weren’t laced up was when we went to bed. Si

The world seemed to vibrate around me. I was swirling and falling through time and space, then, I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. I turned, gasping at the contact. We weren’t back in the room, but the three women were standing a few feet away from me. The second older of them smiled at me. The oldest woman’s hair was long and silver. There was a dark crown of thorny-looking branches on her heard, but her eyes seemed to know so much. The young woman wore a crown of bright spring flowers. The third one had a frown of orange leaves and bright red berries. They seemed so different than they did when I was in the room.

Maryam was now the wife of a billionaire and she knew that she had a lot of back-ups, including Cornelia. The two girls entered their class and went to take their seats at the back. "That was great and all but I still don't understand why Adam's making such a big issue out of this," Cornelia said, frowning. Her friend looked at her for a moment, thought about something, and then pursed her lips.

Comfy couches that were clearly more expensive than most of what I owned. Then there was the celestial woman sitting on the couch in front of us. She had the darkest skin I had ever seen. Beautiful cornrows pulling back her hair. In her hands was a book. Clutched as if it was her prized possession. Her eyes looked up at us. Lips tugged into a smile. "Ah, Farren, I was wondering when you would show your face again." The woman mused in an accent I couldn't place. Somewhere in Africa, that much I could make out. Farren snarled softly and stepped forward.

It was the same corridor Nicolai had clocked earlier, tucked behind the glass panels where these women were locked in. The thin anklets on their slender ankles, chains at their wrists, and the faintest jingle threading through as they moved. Gold-thread harnesses mapped specific areas of their bodies, and only when the light touched them, it filtered in fragments on their breasts, hips, and the dip of their collarbones which were left entirely exposed. As the light travelled up to their faces at the center of the room, my breath shook. But it was gone the next second. I knew her. And this wasn't her. Not even close.

Came Cordelia’s voice from across the room. Her greying hair was woven into a thick braid that hung over her shoulder, and her eyes were sympathetic as they looked my way. She held a tiny amber bottle in her hands and pressed her thumb against the opening until a little droplet stuck to her finger. Rowena stood at her side, a white candle and a small leatherbound book in her hands.

As she counted, she looked at her attackers. There were five of them including George. She glossed over him because she already knew what he looked like. He was hard to miss even in a crowd of a hundred people. The other four consisted of three men and one woman. The woman was wrapped up in a scar quite similar to Rebecca. Her hair was grey and her face was covered in scars and sunken from age. She had to be at least fifty. Two of the men were hidden by black masks however one had a jagged scar through his right eye. It looked like he couldn’t open it because of the scar. The other man had striking blue eyes that her outlined in dark coal—he was part of the Crows’ mercenaries, men and women

I searched for the celebrants, I had to give my present before settling down to enjoy the function. Finally, I saw her smiling whilst talking to one of her guests. Donning her attire sassily , and I gleamed with pride, it looked so good on her, accentuating her baby bump. Her hair was styled back in cornrows, typical of pregnant women, the only difference with hers was that it was made with artificial attachments which made it lengthier and it trailed down her back. She had a natural makeup look with very little jewelry but she looked beautiful all the same. I don't know how my feet landed me in front of her but there I was anyway and her eyes lit up with excitement when she saw me.

She was taller than all of them, including Chelsea and had an air of elegance around her. She reminded him of the butler, Freddy with the way she stood and the poise way she clasped her hands in front of her. The white minikilt with gold embroidery that hugged her slim body, the pearl necklace around her long and smooth neck and earrings that hung on her earlobes, all these pinpointed to a fine seasoned woman. The others wore no make-up and hers was a light touch of powder and red lipstick. Her gray white hair was held up in a bun with a white crescent pin. Her white gloves didn't have a stain on them. By the way, who wore gloves in the summer? None of the women were a drop near the refineme

This was still a being who consumed entire people, and I couldn’t let down my guard. The door opened, and Juniper poked her head inside. “May we come in?” “All are welcome,” he said. Juniper stepped in first, followed by Coral, who wore a green dress that complemented her beautiful red hair. The third woman was in her sixties, with gray hair arranged in long pigtails. She wore the kind of denim dungarees that had been in fashion when I was younger, with a white turtleneck underneath. I tilted my head and squinted. Nothing about her indicated that she was a solid spirit.