Ethan Frome Novels & Stories

I stared forward, looking at the person that stood in front of me, a person really dear to me. Ethan was dressed in a white suit that made him look so handsome. His hair was slicked back, making him look like those mafia bosses from Italy. He stretched out his hands and pulled me gently away from Mrs. Thompson’s. I walked and stood in front of him, with a pastor standing in front of us.

The faint scent of hay and earth still clung to him. There was nothing about him that should have drawn the attention of a Moon Warden. No noble blood marked his features. No symbol of rank. No striking aura like the Alphas carried. And yet my breathing would not steady. Ethan had truly stopped crying in his arms. His tiny fingers clutched the rough fabric at the man’s chest as if he had finally found something he had been searching for all evening. His cheeks, wet moments ago, now glowed softly. His breathing, once broken by sobs, had become calm and even. The corners of his small lips lifted into a faint smile that made my chest tighten painfully.

A tiny old man approached us, and I pushed off the tiniest bit of jealousy I was experiencing when I saw Jessica. The man's bony shoulders protruded against the striped dress shirt he was wearing because of how skinny he was. If not for his belt, his pants would have virtually fallen off of his hips. His beady brown eyes were like chocolate, and he had hollow cheekbones with white stubble down his jaw. tiny, sparkling drips. Ethan welcomed the skeletal man, "Brad." Shaking his hand, greeting him, "How are you?".

His own personal prison. Ethan crept along the edge of the building, then leaped down onto the roof of another, his eyes rooted on the movement of people below, searching for the weak member of the herd. But he didn't comb the crowds merely to satisfy his own needs; he needed to find an alchemist with an open flesh wound, and he knew for a fact that any rogue within a mile radius would not be far behind.

I sat on one of the coach facing the stairs and crossed my legs leaning back with the papers far ahead on the center table. Some few minutes later Ethan emerged from the stairs , he walked slowly and gracefully , it tugged at my heart. He looked so pale and tired. He was wearing black sweatpants and white turtle neck sweater. He's lips was blue but still kissable. He was sick. He looked so tired, I felt bad for dragging my ass here to disturb him. It made me more concerned. I tried not to show, He's going to land me a nasty comment anyway. "Afternoon Mr Ethan," I stood up to great him . he nodded.

I gulped down the fruity beverage with one sip and almost choked at the end. Mr Arrogant patted my backside until I felt good enough and then he came to my view, still smiling like he won a war. He came close and whispered in my ear "You know, you look absolutely hot when you are angry and well I am "Ethan Maxwell" not "Mr Arrogant." Saying this with an amusing expression, he kissed my cheek like no one was watching and dropped my hand from his gentle grasp. Ethan walked to the spot where Elle, Mrs Maxwell, Victoria were chatting.

“if you are listening , hear me out last time , don’t cause more trouble for you father, After this become a good man , don’t kill more , I know you only killed bad people ,but with you also killed several innocent ones too. Before our marriage ,I talked to our father. I was terrified when I got to know that Ethan royal will be my husband, I want to immediately reject the offer of getting married . your father convinced me , he told me Ethan was lively man , he wanted to conquer world by love not by fear , he want to be king and miss rose to be queen but he wanted to fill the world with smile , but he did totally opposite , your father told me that the good Ethan was locked up in a box i

“Let me see His Highness.” The door opened softly, and Harrison quickly stepped inside, moving to Ethan’s bedside. Ethan lay there, his eyes closed, his face gaunt but still exuding an ethereal beauty, like a celestial being in a deep slumber. Unable to resist, Harrison gently slipped his hand under the blanket, holding Ethan’s icy hand. The soft skin, cold as ice, made Harrison’s heart ache. Sensing the warmth from Harrison’s hand, Ethan slowly opened his eyes. His gaze met Harrison’s, filled with worry and genuine affection. Seeing the concern in Harrison’s eyes, Ethan managed a faint smile.

And Ethan is very important to me, even if he is not my son. As we continued driving, the outskirts revealed a stark contrast to the vibrant city lights. Dilapidated buildings and overgrown vegetation painted a desolate picture, and the moonlight cast long shadows that seemed to dance in the stillness. The SUV navigated through deserted streets, the only sounds being the soft hum of the engine and the occasional howl of a distant wolf.

ETHAN'S POV From the murky depths of his addled brain, a gentle voice pulled at his consciousness, urging him to rise and locate the source, but he was tired, so tired and emotionally bruised from all the beatings, and Ethan felt safer locked away in his mind. The voice persisted though, and despite his best efforts Ethan felt himself slowly begin to rise towards it, compelled to discover who was calling to him... "....I've always wanted to help people you know, I have this knack of touching someone, and knowing what they need, take yourself, for instance, I had to wipe the blood off your head so my hands came into contact with your skin, and I knew...beyond the beatings, despite your statio