Declan Prescott 소설 & 이야기

he whispered as we stepped outside into the fresh afternoon air. “And next?” I asked. “We should get me that presidency,” he replied. “And after that?” “We burn everyone down who tried to break you”, he said as he turned towards me with sharp eyes. A chill ran down my spine but not from fear but from power. “That is very good” I uttered, nodding at him. Declan opened the car door for me like a gentleman and the moment we were inside I turned towards him. “I want to destroy Ryan West” I said as he leaned back in his seat, closely watching me.

It’s time for him to make the announcement. “In accordance with the conditions of the duel that the two parties had agreed upon. I hereby declare that Declan Mcgregor is no longer recognized as the Gamma of the Moonvalley Pack. Declan Mcgregor and his daughter, Stacy Mcgregor, are now banished from the Pack,” Jericho formally announced. Stacy propped one arm on the ground and clenched her heart with the other as she winced in pain while Declan’s wolf howled inside of him when they both felt their connection with the Pack snapped in half.

“You’re the reason we’ve been able to keep the peace. You’re a true leader.” Donovan smiled, basking in their praise, feeling the camaraderie that bound them together. “I appreciate all of you. It’s not just about me; it’s about all of us. Together, we’re stronger.” As he watched the video of the inciter’s failed attempt to rally the factions against him, he felt a sense of pride swell within him. Despite the dangers lurking in the shadows, he had established a network of loyal allies, ensuring that his reign would not be easily threatened.

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.

It was the stance of an elite combatant—primed to draw and put down a target in under a second. Declan hadn't come for a friendly neighborly visit. His eyes were cold, probing, and deeply calculating. "Miss Pierce," Declan's deep, level voice cut through the intercom grille with crystal clarity. "I know you're standing behind that steel plate with a shotgun leveled at my chest." Astrid didn't lower her weapon. Her eyes stayed locked on him, registering every micro-tell in his posture. In her previous life, Astrid had heard Declan Mercer's name whispered among elite mercenary circles. A former special operations commander who had cut ties with the military to live off-grid. When civilization

He doesn’t sit—he remains standing, hands clasped behind his back, occupying the space with that naturalness of someone who never learned to ask permission. “I came to retrieve my fiancée,” he says, direct. Declan laughs. It’s a sound without humor, dangerous like breaking glass. “Your fiancée died at the altar when the doors exploded,” he answers. “What you have here is my wife.” “Beatrice Prescott is legally mine. Signed documents, medical records, six years of careful construction. What do you have? A ceremony in a country chapel and a bought priest?” “I have her,” Declan leans forward, the proximity of the knife is no accident. “I have the way her body responds when I touch her. I have t

The live-in son-in-law can’t possibly top my donation,’ Declan thought. “Declan is back as the highest donor, with a total of seventeen million! Such generosity!”

But I shake the ideas out of my head before I have a chance to overthink it. Taking a deep breath I knock on the black door. Seconds later the door swings open and a very shirtless looking Declan comes into view. With his shirt off, you can see his tan six-pack and those two faded scars. Grey Nike sweatpants hang low on his hips and his bony feet are bare of socks. Gulping, I tear my eyes away from his beautiful figure, a burning blush encasing my cheeks. His green eyes connect with my own, a grin taking over his gorgeous features. Butterflies flip and flop in my stomach.

"Get in there!" Declan turned his face and for the first time since this started, smiled at my dad. "Y'all ready for a show?" he asked. Chase laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Don't get your hopes up, Big Boy. I'm a national champion." Declan's smile was slow and steady, but when he raised his head all laughter vanished. They squared off and went into their fighting poses. Chase was our small town hero and every girl's wet dream. But by the way Declan paced, I knew he was going to bring a new league to this

Trying to stand up, my legs feel wobbly but I manage to grab onto a chair before I fall and I turn my head. There, sat Austin Dechart with a smirk on his face and I could feel my blood run cold. "Hello principessa. Long time no see."