Elizabeth Sturniolo Novels & Stories

Before they bowed down to her, That stupid thing, that runt, the woman who was in charge of everything that should have been mine, they just bowed down to her. Sienna De Luca. Omega. Nobody. Now the Luna. How could a person like her just become a Luna when she was nothing more than an Omega? A lowest rank, one that he could use as a consort to breed him children. I dug my nails into the soft leather of the armchair, unable to stop the rage bubbling beneath my skin. It burned like acid in my veins, every second of it replaying over and over in my head. He chose her. Publicly.

I asked, looking up at him. Jonathan's face twisted again. "You were serious about wanting a divorce?" "Yes." "Have you thought things through? You're just a woman. On top of that, you have a child now. How will you survive?" How will I survive? I burst into laughter as I looked at Jonathan. "Have you forgotten who I am, Jonathan Myers?" "What?" "My name is Elizabeth Barry, a doctor of the International Doctors Alliance. I performed three major surgeries during my time in Yorniso. I also delivered 43 children in the refugee camps."

She wouldn’t return for another month. Perfect. The house felt deliciously empty.Isla’s stepmommy Elizabeth, blonde, Botox-perfect, forty-eight masquerading as twenty-five, was likely at another charity luncheon, air-kissing donors and performing concern for endangered sea turtles or whatever cause was trending this week.

“What am I going to do with a mate that can’t shift?” His eyes flickered to mine. They were nothing like they’d been before: all the gentleness and warmth had been stripped from them. They were no longer the eyes of an enamoured stranger. They were the eyes of a man who had been wronged. My breath snagged in my chest. “I can fight in this body,” I said, desperately trying to stop my voice from wavering. “And I can organise, and strategize, and plan–” Ryker snorted. “She’s lying, Enzo. She’s no Luna. She’s an Omega, for God’s sake. All she’s good for is cooking and cleaning – and even then she’s no Nigella Lawson.”

That possessive psycho! Elizabeth huffed in indignation as she added the chunks of the cut up bistecca alla fiorentina on top of the rice and tomato sauce in the flask. Sprinkling parsley on it, she left it open and hurried for her room. She was going to be late if she didn't get a move on it. The subway waited for no man! Taking one last look at her white silk shirt tucked into her black, straight skirt in the mirror, she quickly threw on her light brown chesterfield coat and leopard print heels, then picked up her bag and hurried back to the kitchen. Covering the flask and gently placing it in a tote bag, she put in a tissue wrapped plastic spoon and retrieved the bottle of orange juice fr

She didn’t flinch, but her icy blue eyes narrowed, her lips curling into the faintest sneer. While I could just as easily adjudicate the proceedings, I was happy to let Daemon take control. “Elizabeth,” Daemon began, his voice cold and authoritative, “you stand accused of conspiring in the death of the former Luna, Eloise, of attempting to interfere with fated mates and of behaviour unbecoming of a Luna. Do you deny these charges?” Elizabeth let out a short, mirthless laugh. “Deny? What would be the point?” she drawled, her tone mocking. “You’ve already made up your minds. This is nothing more than a formality, isn’t it?”

He held on to my right shoulder, so I turned to face him. "Will you take your hand off my shoulder or I'll turn you into a mouse?" I raised my left eyebrow, glaring at his cold yet undeniably handsome face. "Whoops!" He immediately took his hand off my shoulder. "You two! What are you waiting for?" The guard on the table called us. He's looking at me from head to toe right now. I quickly walk towards him and say, "My name is Alenna Delevigne from the city of Nalaknabak. I'm a..."

"Scarlett." ******

Offering a military salute by crossing their hands over their chest they stood facing her. Jelena Savage was not as old as one would expect from the leader of an entire race. She was only 17, even younger than Axel by a whole two years! Her hair was braided just above both her ears, her eyes watched coldly like a hawk and inside them, one could sense ruthlessness emanating from her whole being. Her voice was a bat match for her personality, she sounded nothing like who she was. This was a strong woman, who ruled with fear and an iron fist.

"No. He's fiancée. Her name is Viola Santangelo." Elizabeth froze. Viola? Idris noticed her hesitation and carried on with the questioning. "Let us see the injury." Slowly, Leonie removed the bandage while Idris and Elizabeth were waiting impatiently. When the last of the bandage fell off, Idris looked away. It was bad. Grisly even. "What is that? That's not a werewolf bite." Leonie shrugged. "That's because she's not a werewolf." Elizabeth answered and sighed.