Novel & Cerita Fenris X Hawke

He looked rather blankly around his living room, shaking his head in disbelief, then left the house for good. Just as Rina was prepared to interrogate her brother, the strong, crisp scent of spice hit her as she stood in the room. It was him. She swirled around and saw his drop-dead gorgeous grey eyes. Fenris, second prince of the werewolves, was standing in front of her, leaning against the wall with a wicked smile crossing his lips. His smile made her breath catch in her throat. Fenris took a step forward, menacingly. “And what are you up to?”

“Yes, they’ve declared war on me and mine, and I will rip each one of them in two for what they’ve done!” Fenriz’s voice breaks through the pain as I notice that he’s on his cell phone. The person on the other end sounds like Alpha Kai, but it might be Alpha Ryker too. I could still smell Frigga’s blood on Fenriz as he rushed to the doctor with me in his arms; I could still feel the thick sadness woven in his scent along with the anxiety of the pending birth of our child.

To keep aside the book and ask him, curious to know more. "And when is that time Mrs Dawson?" " It's now Mrs Fernandes. The death wolf will rise very soon. Or maybe it has already risen but we are not aware." Deadly silence follows as everyone stares at him in fear. To only make Alexandria to scoff, breaking the deadly silence. "Oh come on! Don't tell me that you believe in this werewolves and mate's thing? They are utter bullsh**" She says challenging him, to only have him scoff. It was the first emotion he displayed and oh boy, did he looked pissed .

Fenris had been standing there for hours, staring at nothing, thinking of everything. "You found something," Fenris said without turning around. Nikolai stepped inside. He closed the door behind him. The click of the lock echoed in the silence. "Yes." "Tell me." "The Wolfe heir. We have a name." Fenris turned. His gray eyes were flat, hungry, the eyes of a man who had been hunting for eight years and was tired of coming up empty. "What name?" "Raven. No location. Just a first name that surfaced in an old police report."

I lunged for him as he fell from the sled, his skin beginning to smoke. "Stay back!" he roared, his voice cracking. He tried to shift, but his body wouldn't obey. His bones would start to snap and reform, only to be forced back into human shape by the searing light. From the shadows of the pass, Fenris emerged. He was older than Marek, his hair a mane of white fur, his eyes a chilling, translucent blue. He didn't look like a King; he looked like a predator that had finally cornered its prey.

The air in the room suddenly tastes sharp, heavy with the deeply intoxicating scent of woodsmoke, mint, and rich mahogany. ​"June." His voice is a low, terrifying rumble, thick with a chaotic mix of frantic relief and barely suppressed fury. ​I turn slowly. Fenris is standing in the doorway, his massive chest heaving as if he’s sprinted the entire distance from the ΦΟΜ house to the off-campus strip. His hair is slightly disheveled, and his eyes aren't their usual calm, stormy blue; the edges of his irises are bleeding into a brilliant, predatory, molten gold.

He even went as far as to attempt to get the link between them working for him, only for it to be a bust, for he could not seem to get into Christen’s head no matter how hard he tried. Worry took over him at that point. Immediately, Fenris got Christen on his back, with the blanket strapped around his shoulders and waist to keep her nicely secured, and ran full speed away from the cabin. Heading straight towards his home in the Diamante-Krawler pack. ‘Please… Please let there be a healer who can help her!’ he prayed, not slowing down in his charge at all. After a while of running, he finally made it back to his back, where he saw several werewolves out and about, going on with their days.

AVA Without another word, Hunter moves swiftly away from the lockers, passing by his two friends whose names I'm guessing are Preston and Gomorey. They had been gawking at Hunter with a mischievous grin playing on their lips, and Hunter didn't waste a chance to shoot them both with his penetrating glare. I noticed their pupils retrench as they stared at him, meaning they were conversing with each other through mindlink. It was brief, lasting a couple of seconds before Hunter turns left and straight down the now-empty halls.

Her hand stayed near her jacket, where I knew she’d tucked her pistol. “Three whiskeys,” Fenris called to the bartender. The drinks arrived in chipped glasses. Fenris lifted his, winced as the movement pulled at his split lip, then downed half of it in one swallow. I didn’t touch mine. “Talk,” I said. “You said you’ve seen Isabella.” Fenris set his glass down, ran a finger around the rim. “I haven’t exactly seen her, but I know where someone like her might end up.”

He ran as fast as he could until he reached the west wing of the forest and saw the hunters. He roared; anger was visible in every howl he made, which made the hunter stopped from what they were doing to someone. "The alpha king is here!" The other hunter says, shouting. Drake shifted back as he felt his body weaken due to the tingling sound of the silver weapon by the hunters. He darted his eyes at the woman wearing a white night dress. His forehead knitted as he saw Emily bathed with her blood. She had bruises and was weak. 'D-Drake. . .'