Exiled Souls Mc Novels & Stories

The werewolf healer no one can find, no one can trace. How? How could these two letters arrive at the same time? How could he— I rip open the first letter with trembling fingers. Aria Sinclair, By order of Alpha Declan Cross, you are hereby summoned to return to Crescent Ridge Pack territory within fourteen days of receiving this notice. Failure to comply will result in you being declared a rogue and hunted accordingly. This is not a request. Alpha Declan Cross The words blur. My chest tightens. I grab the second letter and tear it open.

And there they were both. Sitting on one of the luxurious sofas in the VIP area of ​​the big nightclub in the small town. Cristian did not understand how his companions had convinced his alpha to let them go. In recent times the great wolf was reluctant to give them a well-deserved vacation after the scandal that had formed with Dylan and a woman, where more than one wolf was involved. As a reprimand, he had filled the very busy work schedule for most of the members of the pack and the very capable quartet had been confined in the house guarded by Dakota, with whom they would not dare to leave the limits of the property.

Her arms crossed, watching Mortus scream in pain. “I think that is enough torture,” I sniffed, holding on to Creed. “What could be worse than losing your soul mate? No matter how evil he is.” The crowd did not share the same sentiment as the naked vampire yelled profanities, no longer begging me but Scorpia who stood on and watched. Her fingers grazed her lips, eyes looking longingly at her fingertips.

She called their names enthusiastically as she dropped down to the ground and meet them with hugs, she carefully whispered, “I miss you guys.” Both Asphalt and Code Nine wiggled their tails, saying they missed her too, together with The8. “It would take light years to finally reach the second world, but we got no choice but to leave,” The8 started saying while he faces the Automator. “Are we really in danger now? But you know… I could just fight them.” “No, it’s dangerous. They’ve prepared for this. I know they got something on their back. They’re confident. It’s hard situation to just let your Soulwaker fight with them. We don’t know what could happen.”

she nodded gently, her face so intently focused on him now, as he sighed again, struggling to answer her without saying too much. Lukas stepped forward, pulling up one of the chairs from the small dining table, and sitting facing her. "Very few know about us," he said softly, "but the ones that do, they call us 'Shadowsouled'." Jason could feel her apprehension growing, as she likely sensed his nervousness, her eyes drifting between the two of them now.

The men riding behind me know what we're heading into and, like me, they're ready to die. We're ex-cons and we've drawn our line between the wrong we're willing to live with and the wrong we can't abide by. Fox making plans to sell Kiley to a child molester was the line we drew in the hot desert sand. The Desert Crows MC is made up of ex-cons like us. I have no idea who will have my back and who won't. One thing I do know-I'm not going back to prison or standing by and allowing Fox to continue his shit. The Desert Crows' clubhouse is a mile off Highway 87 in Peach City, Arizona, an hour northeast of Phoenix. Around a thousand people call Peach City home, and the area is sparse with a tempera

Dax My acquaintance was the guy who had helped me change my last name. He wasn’t a private investigator, just a guy who sold identification documents (passports, birth certificates, social security, etc) to people who needed it under the radar. Most of his clientele were immigrants, but vampires use people like him given how we don’t age, and we need someone who won’t ask questions. In this instance however, I did need him to do some research, which would probably take some convincing.

Today, I—Anika Rhodes—am exiled. Every eye in the room is fixed on me. Usually, I’d shrink under such scrutiny, but not today. Today, I don’t care. Because exile isn’t a punishment. It’s freedom. It’s a life above ground, away from the dread of the Underworld. Away from the chains, the rituals, the watching shadows. It’s a chance, however slim, to be something more than a curse.

I wasn’t sure if it was because I grew up here and got used to it or because I didn’t like noisy places. “Good morning, m’lady,” an older woman came out of the rest house’s kitchen. She was the caretaker of this place. I knew her because I had visited a few times before. “Aunt Seneng, how are you? It’s been almost a month since I last came here.” I looked out over the vast farm while the wind blew through my hair. She stood next to me. “Oh, I’m still taking care of this house as usual. How is your relationship with the alpha?” Alpha... they still considered Azriel as their alpha even though it had been a long time since he was exiled from Lysidamus.

in a world of giants. "Good," she said, a sharp, dangerous smile crossing her face. "The Architects think the game is over because they deleted the board. They don't realize we just brought the Puck into their house." The Feral Six have bodies. They have the million souls stored in a local server. But they are "Underground" in the Macro-verse, hunted by the most powerful corporation in existence. It’s time to stop playing defense.