Elizabeth Carruthers Novels & Stories

Elizabeth said standing up. There was a tap on the door, before it opened, and Carter walked in. “There is my princess; I will take her now,” Carter said before wishing me a good morning and walking back out the door. Elizabeth chuckled, “He is obsessed with that little girl,” she commented before looking back to me.

She sighed, although the fear of returning into such a sinister nightmare alarmed her but she could not control her dropping lids…. Knock! Knock! "What? Huh!" The sudden banging against her door, jolted her back awake. She panicked once more before calming herself. She looked towards the door, getting up from her bed and stalking towards it. Elizabeth acted smart and leaned her ear against the door. "Who is it?" She asked loud enough for whoever was behind the door to hear. "Madam, I am Calista, I have a message from Mr. Thompson for you." Elizabeth did not know who this Calista was, but she knew well Mr. Thompson. This was the lowlife pervert bar owner who also owned the room she rested in.

“You look like her. Elizabeth. Same fire.” Camilla didn’t lower the gun. “Then you know why I’m here.” Calista sighed and crossed to the table. She poured herself a cup of tea. “You want to know about the boy.” “The truth,” Camilla said. “All of it.” Calista gestured to a second cup. “Sit. I won’t run. I’ve been tired for years.” Once seated, Calista began. “Elizabeth was never meant to survive the Program. She wasn’t a killer. But she had a mind that frightened men. She knew where the bodies were buried—because she helped dig the graves.”

Salvador turned to Carissa and asked, "What have you found out about the noble families that have close ties with Eleanor?" Carissa replied honestly, "I haven't finished my inquiries yet, Your Majesty. So far, I've discovered that one of Henry's concubine's daughters is at Stillcrest Estate. Her name is Tabitha. After questioning her, it appears she hasn't been involved in any tasks. "That's because her biological mother passed away the day after she entered the Marquis of Stillcrest's family, so Eleanor couldn't get hold of her weakness. Since she is favored by the Marquis of Stillcrest's heir, she has since distanced herself from Eleanor."

He was willing to do anything for her just to see a smile on her face. On the other hand, Elizabeth was the same age as Kira, but she was a bit fleshy and not slim like Kira. In fact, she has a perfect body shape with long natural hair. Her lips were red and they were natural as well. Elizabeth was a graduate, but what she did for living was living the life of a stripper. She strips for a living and satisfies both genders in one of the clubs very far away from her home and is filled with influential rich men and women.

WRAITH’S POV “I had never seen anything quite like it.” Elizabeth said to me. I could tell that the fact she had no idea what was wrong with Tessa left her slightly embarrassed. Especially being one of the pack’s oldest healers, who always seemed to know about every type of illness. Her ancestral line were all healers, and she’s spent every moment of her life researching and studying in the department. More than that, she was unarguably one of the best in the world, and yet, she had no clue.

Cara looked up over Veronica's head at me, "our Luna she left.” It was that second I felt her bond to our pack break." I looked at Cara and spoke softly, "Cara, go inside, rest for a while to calm yourself," I pulled Veronica up and we walked inside the pack house. Once I was inside, I found that Elizabeth had taken the money from my closet safe, and anything she could get her hands on that was worth money. I always knew she was materialistic, and it never bothered me, especially after finding Carol. If I could appease her with material things and not have to be physical with her, it would be worth it.

For the first time in years, she was seeing Elizabeth create something brimming with vitality. She had always thought Elizabeth capable only of those dark, grotesque works steeped in death and despair. They were brilliant, but suffocating.

Father. Not billionaire. Not strategist. Just father. But instinct didn’t erase risk. Her phone buzzed. Unknown number. She frowned. Answered. A woman’s voice greeted her. Warm. Polished. Intentionally calm. “Elizabeth Carter?” “Yes?” “My name is Miranda Collins.” The name meant nothing at first. Until the woman continued. “I used to work very closely with Lewis Anderson.” Elizabeth’s stomach tightened. “In what capacity?” A small pause. “Personal.” Silence.