Dorothy Dawson Novels & Stories

"She is yet to wake up. But according to the marks on her body, she has been under abuse for a long time. Others were still fresh." "It's like she had been whipped for a good number **of** years." The doctor said. "Do your best to make sure that she wakes up as soon as possible," Ashton said. "Yes, Alpha. We will do our best." Ashton waved his hand and walked towards the study room. Theo was following him. "What did you find out from your investigation?" "The girl's name is Maya Brown. She was saved by Mark Syden, the now alpha of wind winders pack." "What did you say her name was?" Ashton asked. He felt like he was hearing things.

The door locked behind us. “How are you doing?” She asked, finally releasing me from her embrace. “I don't know.” “Let's sit.” Dorothy said ushering me to her white sofa close to the dining room. She had a handmade pillow on her sofa, she had gotten one every year from her grandmother in Massachusetts. I sat down and Dorothy went to the fridge getting me a glass of cold water. I was thirsty…. not for water but for a $350,000 cheque. “I got the news I contacted my manager at the company where I work. There is a vacancy.” Dorothy started, walking towards me with the glass of water in her hand. “Here, you look pale. Get hydrated a first.”

But I am. Because I know what she sees when she looks at me now. A traitor. A ghost. She’s late. Everyone notices. I glance at the time for the fifth time, then rub the sweat off my palms. Then the doors open. She walks in. And everything in this room goes silent for me. Even the chewing. Even the camera shutters. Even my own pulse. Dorothy’s in black. From head to toe. Not a strand out of place. Her face is done but tired. Not tired like sleepy. Tired like war-torn.

Dorothy closed her eyes lightly, her face filled with regret. She regretted believing Janice and going against Larissa and Ambrose. If she had just kept to herself, she would still be the prestigious First Lady. She would have never been reduced to this. Luckily, the heavens had helped her. Just now she had almost been killed by the clones, but the subordinates of Ambrose had arrived right on time, and she had escaped harm. Now that things had come to this, Dorothy had come to terms with everything. Wayne's head turned stiffly toward Janice. His emotions went from shock to disappointment, then to hate and disgust.

The Devotion Pack has been almost empty, after the Alpha disappeared, and rumours of Phantom Wolves roaming around scared Pack members away. Adrian crosses him from the list. "How about Grayson?" I hesitate, lifting my head from where I was brushing lint off my jeans. Grayson? "Who's that again?" I ask. The name Grayson doesn't ring a bell in my head, which is strange, since I'm familiar with most Alphas. "Alpha of Freedom," Adrian informs me. No wonder. Shaking my head, I slip off the edge of the desk, and take the pen from Adrian's hand, proceeding to draw a thick red line over the name. My blonde haired assistant stares at me as I resume my spot.

“I like noticing details that no one else sees.”-Unknown Dominic POV "Dawson?" I repeated the surname again tried to recall something. I read again all the information that I received from Anthony. Everything about Ara was there, as I requested him to investigate the last three days. "Derrick Dawson?" I narrowed my eyes at the name. "Really?" I turned my eyes to Anthony that sat in front of me. "Yes, she is Dawson but it seems like she is not really being exposed to the media," Anthony explained clearly like he can read the question inside my mind.

“I’m Dorothy. I run the nursery. Are you new to the pack?” “Sort of. I’m staying at the Alpha house.” Her brows lifted slightly. “Oh? Are you related to Lady Evangeline?” “No.” I left it at that. Dorothy studied me for a moment, curious but polite enough not to ask more. “Well, you’re welcome here anytime,” she said. “We can always use extra help.” “I’d like to volunteer,” I said before I could second-guess myself. “If that’s allowed.” Dorothy’s face brightened. “That would be wonderful. We’re always short-staffed. Especially afternoons when the older pups return from lessons. Can you start today?”

It was quite easy to transform Jane Puckett, scholarship student and chronic coffee drinker, into Jailbird, the mysterious masked dancer in Fantasy Island. The hangover would have to wait. Bills didn't pay themselves.

He made the call, and then waited. George Howell picked up on the first ring. "Yeah?" "Hey, George, what's up?" David replied. "It's about time. Where the hell have you been?" David rubbed his eyes, "I’m sorry, been busy" "I'm waiting." "I met a lady tonight." "Is that supposed to surprise me, Dave? Hell, I imagine you meet a lot of broads every damn night." "Not a broad," David said, the edge in his tone evident. "A lady. The one I've been tracking”

We get back to the Wolversons, and walking in we go through to the living room, Emmi looks up at us shocked, moving she takes everything off the table for D to put Daisy on it. As he places her down the doctor is there, going to remove the drape. D quickly moves, punching him and it takes it all to drag him away from the doctor. I stand in front of him. “He needs to clean the stabs and stitch her! Don’t fucking kill him!”