Daphne Omori Novels & Stories

She knew if Sarah saw her like this she would act over dramatic as always, she never wanted the Luna Queen to go around without her hair and make-up done as she felt it was a personal insult to her that she couldn't do her job. Daphne left the room after taking a deep breath, knowing all eyes would be on her fully exposed neck. But then she thought, she could either be proud to sport the hickeys given to her by infamous alpha king or be ashamed about it. She was far from the latter. Walking into the dining room, she came face to face with the culprit of the imprints on her neck. Seating at the end of the table, with a buffet in front of him, Dwayne had his laptop on the table as he sipped on

When the two of them left, I noticed Daphne remained. "What's wrong other than the obvious?" I asked her. She was perhaps the brightest of all of us. Her skills with computers and videos, including creating medical 3-D imaging was incredible. Why she wasn't working for some big think tank instead of the medical examiner's office I'd never know. But I was grateful to have her. Maybe unfortunately she also shared the last name of Wolf. I wasn't certain about the relation, but it was entirely possible she was pissed I'd had a drink with Julian. I couldn't tell from her expression.

Stopping, Persephone jumped back, looking up and saw an albino girl standing on a cliff, with her white locks flowing in the air, hands on her waist, smiling at her. “Woah, please halt, Miss Phoenix.” She smiled, getting down. “Number 2, hmm?” Persephone noticed the number on her hand, contemplating her form to know her strength but it surely is lower than hers. Well at least it’s not someone I know. She sighed internally, reaching to fight her. “Yes. Daphne, My Lady and I apologize but I cannot allow you to go further.” She bowed a little, putting her hand on her chest. “Move out of my way.” Persephone ordered, not in the mood for unnecessary fights.

“Good day, all. I am Mary Vaughn-Hamilton, daughter of Gerald Vaughn, Alpha of the Phoenix Pack, but some may know me as the Luna of the San Francisco Pack. Before drafting this message, I battled with myself, because I was unsure if it was the best thing to do. It is now clear to me that I should never have allowed myself to be silenced. My story deserves to be heard.

“We need to be quick. You have a big night ahead of you.” Daphne forced a smile. “Of course.” She sat in front of the vanity as Britta began working. The blow-dryer hummed in the background as Britta expertly handled her curls. “You have beautiful hair,” she commented. “So thick and natural. It’s rare here.” “Thanks. Filipino genes,” Daphne replied softly. Britta’s eyes lit up. “Oh! That explains your skin tone. No wonder you look so exotic.” Exotic. Daphne wanted to cringe, but she held the smile. She had to be charming. Harmless. “Right.”

Yet Orvyn is left with me - the fat and unattractive one. If only I could turn back time, I’d not succumb to my wolf’s desires and have gone through with the divorce. Someone’s arrival pulls me away from my bitter thoughts, but makes my stomach knot again as a new anxiety fills me. “Your teacher is here,” Daphne announces. I gawk at the teacher, frozen in place as she extends her hand to me. Black straight hair, cat-like black eyes, button nose, small face… Oh my goodness! Lady Olivia?! What is she doing here?!

"Arthur told me to expect you." To Megan's uttermost surprise, the man looked to be in his late fifties; presumably the only one in the entire building who was. He was bald, African- she guessed West African from his accent- and quite muscularly sound for his age. He radiated power and authority just like Arthur did and for a second, the fear she had felt at the latter's sight came flooding back to her and she cowered a little. "Who are you?" she asked. "Dennis Ahmad," he replied, extending a handshake. "I'm the Director of UNCADTAR's paramilitary response's division. Or as I like to call it, Olympus."

Their hearts pounding loudly, everyone wanted to go near her but with a dagger, she’s holding on her neck might hurt her anytime. Morrigan’s a few feet near Fiachra’s statue that stands in the middle of the pool and also serves as a marker. When Morrigan felt that no one would dare come near her, she slowly let her dagger go, slowly sitting down by the edge of Fiachra’s statue and letting her silk robe slide down her shoulder. The servants watched her from the surface finally heaved a long deep breath as they watched the queen calm down. Watching her scoop the water and throw whatever her hand can get over her shoulders. Her hair is dancing around her as it stays afloat in the water. Morriga

I called Elijah, my tech guy. “what?” he groaned. I rolled my eyes. “find me David from the college” I hear him type somethings and shuffle around. “there are 50 David’s, which one?” “streamline to psychology’ “about 5 of them” “send me all their pictures and names via email, I’m waiting” the images popped into my email and I printed all of them out. I took the pictures back to Camila and asked her to point out which one was her David. She was hesitant but after some persuasion she pointed at David O’Connor. I pecked her forehead and walked out of the room to make a phone call. I called the vice-chancellor of the college.

It was a blessing in disguise though, because the little show of pain made it possible to see the owner of the voice. It was a woman. Dark skin, with a fading scar running from the right side of her upper lips down to her jaw. Her eyes were coppery, contrasting the brown dreadlock that was tied into a ponytail. She was no fresher with the spear and held it masterfully as if she was one with it. “One funny move" the woman glared, "and you are a dead meat.". Dead meat? Ejima shivered. Despite the threat, she felt sweat and fear covering her body. Her eyes strolled down to the woman’s feet and the notion in her stomach elevated when she saw the missing toe…