Novel & Cerita Declan Harp

But slowly, she nodded, trying to wipe her tears, but more spilled from her eyes. “O-Okay, I will, she sniffled. I nodded, satisfied with her response, then turned to leave. It was time to determine the best strategy for getting rid of those rogues. Declan’s mission to attack that rogue camp he discovered was successful. Though no one was captured alive, none were left to report to their other camps either. I suspected that all these rogue camps reported to one person, but to find that specific leader’s hideout was going to be incredibly difficult.

In other words, Declan owned several small islands. Declan was also a really nice guy, the kind of guy you could take home to meet your parents. He was good-looking. Not in a how-good-do-I-look kind of way, but more in the boy-next-door kind of way. His hair was brown - not dark blonde, not brunette, just a nice…brown. His eyes were hazel and not set too far apart, his nose was, well, normal and his lips were not too thin. Individually his features were rather average but they were arranged in such a way as to be very appealing. He wasn’t the type of guy you would regret waking up next to in the morning.

They left. He turned west. He found Declan at the western edge of the settlement, in the specific shadow of the mill building, with Vael and three operators arranged behind him in the loose formation of people who were prepared to move on instruction. Declan looked like his exile. Four years of operating in margins had stripped him of the courtly polish that Xander remembered and replaced it with something leaner and more specific. He was still recognisably his brother, the same jawline, the same precise eyes, the same quality of intelligence that had always been Declan's most significant characteristic.

Standing, I turn to Declan. “Thanks.” “No problem. But I do think we should mark this date down in history as the day you came to me for advice.” “I was actually hoping Phil was here.” “Fuck you.” I laugh. “He probably would have said the opposite.” “No shit. He plays it too safe.” Declan shakes his head. “He’s going to miss his chance with her,” he says, meaning Danielle. “But what am I—” He cuts off when he hears Danielle loudly say someone the bar isn’t open yet.

And that’s when his voice cut through the air like a whip. “Mia Williams.” I froze. Slowly turned. And there he was. Harry Declan stood in front of the windows, a storm in a navy three-piece suit. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his tie loosened just enough to make him look sinfully undone. His dark eyes locked on mine with surgical precision. “How do you know my name?” I whispered. He smiled—but there was nothing kind in it. “I know everything about my employees. Especially the ones who wander into restricted areas and open confidential files.”

As Harry continued his speech, Donovan remained composed, his focus unwavering as he listened intently to his opponent's words. Despite Harry's eloquence, Donovan exuded an air of quiet assurance, his mind already formulating his own strategy for when it was his turn to address the crowd. "In the spirit of unity and progress, I offer myself as a champion for our collective aspirations and ambitions," Harry declared, his tone measured yet impassioned. "I believe that true leadership is not about dictating from above, but rather about listening, understanding, and empowering those whom we serve." His eloquence drew nods of approval from the audience, impressed by Harry's ability to articulate

Reilly said as he continued to follow the others to the cells. Declan fell back behind the group a few steps, contemplating what both Dante and Reilly just told him. Dante had been Declan’s friend and most trusted advisor for many, many years. Reilly was someone Declan raised to be the Lycan he is today. A Lycan that is compassionate, caring, and one who others seek out when they need or want guidance, so why was Declan having such a hard time with this situation? Declan knew he wanted Alsie, shit he already marked her, so why the trepidation?

The two stood out together. Darla was a solid face reader. She had a crush on whoever was good looking. But why does this man look familiar? Her eyes widened when she recognize him. "You're Declan? Declan of the Moore family?" Declan looked at her in surprise. "You know me?" Darla jumped up, happily, "Yeah, yeah, l'm a fan of yours!" The piano world had produced such a godly man as Declan, and with his face value and family history going against the grain, Darla had long since become a fan of him.

“Master, do you still want to inform him? It’s very likely that our mission failed last time because he told Thomas about it! Shouldn’t we be cautious against him?” Dragon Claw said, “We should be more aware of him, but the success of this plan still depends largely on Declan’s credibility. We have no choice but to use him. Just call him over.” Disgruntled, Heron unwillingly went off to call Declan. Declan was over there by the time Dragon Claw finished his breakfast. “Were you looking for me?” Declan asked. Dragon Claw grinned and mysteriously said, “Let’s go. I’ll show you some good stuff! I guarantee it will open your eyes.”

He says with a raised brow. I’m about to answer his question when Gideon and Outlaw, aka Declan Archer, walk in the door. Declan is a tall bastard too. His hair is dark, nearly black, and his eyes are a deep blue color, whereas Gideon is golden-haired with obsidian eyes. Declan is a true black Irish and quite a deadly fucker. The men are a true contrast. We all shake hands in greeting. Unlike Gideon and I, Declan and I are not overly friendly, but we respect each other. Hunter is a little more enthusiastic in his greeting when he steps forward and shakes the men’s hands. “Reaper, Outlaw. How’s it going?” Both men nod and smile in greeting at Hunter’s excited tone. Priest clears his throat an