Fe Ophelia Novels & Stories

Leona stood there watching as Ophelia tore the check and the pieces fell to the ground. "I must say, Leona, you have guts!" Leona raised her eyes to Ophelia as she began to speak. Her face was shadowed and gloomy, and her eyes were darkened with unyielding rage. When Ophelia took a step towards her, Leona felt a shiver run down her spine. Leona took a step back with each step Ophelia took until her back was against the opposite wall of the corridor. Ophelia stood tall, her shoulders flaring, making her appear even larger. Ophelia's body towered over Leona, and she yelped as Ophelia's hand slammed against the wall just beside her head.

But here she was proving it all wrong. Ophelia walked inside the room. She looked so familiar yet so foreign to Noah. She now had bright caramel-colored hair. Her eyes were different, darker almost. It was hard to tell the violet in her irises if you didn’t know what you were looking for. It turned a deeper shade like wine. Somehow, she looked more down to Earth than ever. And yet, she looked just as ethereal as before. At least, to Noah’s eyes. Everyone was trying to contain their expression. They tried to pretend that it wasn’t their first time seeing Ella when it actually was.

, Damon asked. “Take it off. Please” “Who are you!?” Damon said louder. “Make it stop!”, she said tearing the headphones from her ears. “Who are you?”, Damon sled one last time. Ophelia regained herself before replying. “I am a Xylnn”. Ophelia had expected that after telling Damon what she was, an iota of realization would set in but it didn’t. “For an Alpha, he isn’t all fireworks upstairs”, Bre commented.

She already had much on her shoulders already and she wasn't ready to add to it. "Hmm," Ophelia hummed in response, stopping herself from pulling her daughter into a hug. She removed her eyes from Hazel, staring at the man behind her. The color of her eyes dimmed a little, glaring at Theo. How could she forget the man that almost risked her daughter's life?!

Her eyes are misty, a concerned frown on her face. “Damian, I’m okay. You’re okay.” She says. “Of course. But what did you do?” I ask. The glassy look in her eyes vanishes. She looks aside and then pales just as Henrick comes in clapping. “This is a miracle!” He says. “Calming energies. Mist.” Ophelia gasps, and before anything else– She slips from under my arm. And then she dashes away. Confusion rings about the room. Henrick exhaled, locking eyes with me.

What we had experienced in his hands before now was going to be so little compared to what he was going to do by the time he sent out his army. “Ophelia has been put in the deepest part of the dungeon and I fear there's really no way she would get out. There are a lot of people who want her dead and at this point, based on what she has done, she’s never going to get out… This is going to be a straight judgment.”

I tried covering myself desperately while tears blurred my vision. Phones appeared, camera flashes, laughter filled my brain. “Oh my God, look at her!” Jenna stood there watching everything happen. Ophelia stepped closer slowly, holding up her phone proudly. “Now,” she said softly, “everyone gets to see exactly what happens when people disrespect me.” I felt physically sick.“Please…” The word escaped before I could stop it. Ophelia’s smile widened instantly, enjoying every moment, “I’m posting every single photo if you ever touch me again.”

I stared at the lady in a stunning blue dress and glass stilettos. She slowly took off the shades she had on, revealing her piercing brown eyes, and my heart stopped. Vivian’s expression mirrored mine as her eyes bulged out in shock. She gasped audibly beside me. “Ms. Ophelia… THE CEO of Westbrook Limited.” Her assistant ushered behind her. My jaw dropped involuntarily. Standing before me, looking more elegant and poised than I ever imagined, was my ex-wife—Ophelia.

Barely there. But her power short-circuited for a second. And in that silence… she could still taste That night, Ophelia snuck into the training dome. She needed to burn something. Punch something. Anything to get the Maddox Effect out of her system. She loaded up a memory sequence and projected it into the air — her fighting herself. Every strength. Every weakness. A perfect mirror match. She charged. Dodged. Struck. Twisted. But the memory version of herself whispered something mid-fight:

The Delta laughed as she ran up the grand stairs, her dress soaked with her tears. However, the moment Ophelia was safely in the privacy of her rooms, she moved towards the bathroom and pulled out the button she had stolen from his suit. Right now, the one she had used to replace it was a tiny bomb. With her eyes focused on the mirror, she reached for her burner phone and typed a message, 'High Target 10's shirt. Detonate the bomb.' Exactly five minutes later, she received a message, 'Done. Target wiped out.' Ophelia Storm could barely believe her eyes, and had to zoom in severally.