Eight Years Novels & Stories

EIGHT YEARS I saw my mate again after eight years. I couldn't recognize him at first but now I could. He was even taller, muscular, more tattoos, even piercings. Mouth piercing, eyebrow piercing. He was looking handsome. The perfect definition of handsomeness was right in front of me. He had changed so far. He wasn't the one I knew during my high school days. He was a different person now. An Alpha to be precise. At least, he had ruled his pack for over eight years.

Twenty-eight years. She writes: I am forty-eight years old. Twenty-eight years into the second life. In the first life I was forty-seven and I had three years left and I did not know it and I was not paying sufficient attention to those three years. In this life I have been paying attention to every year since I was twenty.

about that future wedding. Eight years had passed, and I was still waiting for the day that promise would come true. But now, I had decided to go home. I wouldn't wait any longer. The car moved silently through the night before stopping in front of my villa. Mason unfastened his seatbelt, apparently assuming the tension between us had already passed. Out of habit, he leaned toward me, trying to kiss me. I raised my hand and pressed it lightly against his shoulder. "I'm tired, Mason."

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She thought: yes. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She thought: twenty-eight years. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She thought: still.

Elara turned eight in April. The party was the kind of party that a child turning eight in a household that had been through a war and a plague and two cross-territory crises in the past year deserved: full, warm, attended by everyone who loved her, with excessive amounts of food and the specific noise level that made quiet houses feel alive.

Elena Hart's hands trembled as she slipped out of the back door of her stepfamily’s house. She was breathing like someone who had a panic attack. At nineteen, she was already used to hiding from her stepmother, Lydia who always badmouthed her. She dodged her stepsister, Vanessa's glare. She knew Vanessa never liked her anyway. But fate wasn't on her side tonight as she was sneaking out.

“Eight years. Royal is way older than you. He’s thirty-seven. You’re twenty-six. Don’t judge me on ages.” “You’re in high school.” “I should have graduated two years ago. At least I’m sticking it out. He’s also single because his ex was too ashamed to tell his parents he was gay. Do you know who has no trouble admitting they are bi?” He pointed his thumbs at his chest. “You’re eighteen.”

I still drove it all the time. He turned to me and squeezed my knee. “Eight years,” he said. “Can you believe it?” I shook my head. “Time really does fly.” He grinned. “It’s been a good eight years though, hasn’t it?” I smiled back, thinking of the gift I had for him. We were pregnant again, and I planned to tell him at dinner. We both wanted a big family, and after months of trying, we were finally going to fulfill that dream. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

"That's how it is, they'll grow to love one another either way. Mason must be so happy, seeing how they're getting along." Bethany chuckles softly in remembrance. It'll be eight years in a few weeks since he passed on. It'll be three since Martha also left them behind... And in another few months, it'll be eight years since these cat and mouse delights have been born. Eight years old, Bethany's Mason and Eight years old Chara's Cleo Worth. "Where's Arthur anyway?" Chara asks as she finishes the wine in the glass. Bethany chuckles... "He's..."

“As for Uncle Golding, I estimate that you may be able to reach the state of a thirty-eight or thirty-nine-year-old person.” “As for Nana, I’m guessing that your body will be able to return to the state that it was in when you were eighteen years old.”