Novelas y relatos de Golden Freddy

Mark snatched it up before he even realized what it was and clutched it tightly. "What card is this?" Mark asked. He'd grown up in a rich family. He recognized the sleek black card with gilded lettering. Freddy kept his eyes down, silent. Mark grabbed him by the hair. "Speak! Whose card is this? What did you do?" "Get your hands off me!" Freddy struggled. "I did it for us. There's twenty million in there. Twenty million. We can buy a ten-million property and still have ten million left. If we save, we won't have to suffer anymore."

Stands over me bleeding out on the floor. "I told you. I told you this is where it ends." He picks up the silver knife. "But I'm merciful. I'll make it quick." He raises the knife. Aims for my heart. This is it. This is how I die. Then Freya crashes back into the room. Half-shifted. Her wolf partially emerged. Eyes glowing gold. Feral. Desperate. Powerful beyond her training. She slams into Asher. Knocks him off his feet. The knife goes flying.

“Where.” Kris answered fast. “Halden House. The atrium. Cameras live there all day. Business people, society people, reporters pretending they’re not reporters.” Winnie frowned. “That’s a lot.” Freeda swung her legs off the bed. “He told the world we were still committed while I was asleep. That’s a lot.” Scott looked at her. “No touching.” Freeda glanced at him. “No touching.” “Understood,” Scott said. By two thirty, Freeda was dressed. She wore a black dress, her hair in a ponytail, and no jewelry that meant anything. Winnie fussed with her collar, as if she were angry with the fabric.

I take in a sharp breath, not expecting her to be showing any signs of her powers developing, but I give her a small, reassuring smile. "I know, it's ok. Just try and take some deep breaths." She starts to breathe heavily, her sobs becoming louder. I pick her up and walk out of the bedroom and across the palace to the elders' workspace. Usually, at least one elder is awake in case of emergencies. As we step in, the pain must have become worse as she begins to writhe in my arms. "Her powers are developing." That's all I say, and the female elder is guiding us over to the pond-like area of the room. I place her down into the water, and she begins to float. She begins to chant and pour a few th

A small smile tugged at her mouth. “Okay,” Freddy said, already bouncing to her feet. “I’m gonna go for my jog, and if you help me tackle this disaster when I get back, I’ll show you all the good places to go. You know—the ones that don’t card.” Gemma reached for her phone, then pointed toward the desk. “I’ll help if you bring back a mocha latte. There’s money right there.” Freddy plucked the ten‑dollar bill off the desk and held it up. “Awfully trusting, aren’t you? Just handing me cash.”

"Get down!" Freya d'Or heard the warning almost a second too late. She hit the floor just as an enormous silver streak of metallic fur leapt at the equally enormous tentacled Anomaly that she had been grappling with a moment ago. The silver beast's claws and gleaming teeth ripped into the creature like a knife through butter, severed body parts flying through the air around them. Freya would have felt pity for the Anomaly, if the thing hadn't nearly torn her limb from limb just a moment ago.

“Really? I hadn’t known you were into musical instruments.” She smiled like a wolf. “It also plays music.” Almost daring him, she reached up and stroked the Bell pendant at her neck. His eyes followed it, glued themselves to the golden sphere. Almost strangled, he said, “What a lovely piece of jewelry, my dear. Did you make it?” She just smiled, that cold, hard smile that said, I’ve got you, you murdering bastard. She could feel that subtle change in her eyes, the one that meant they were glinting gold. For once, she didn’t care. She wanted Azion to know she hated him.

"Bring me her alive!" The woman submerged in the wine inside the tub, emerged again from between the sovereign's legs, trying to suck in a breath of air. "Help me imbeciles!" yelled Guildor at his acolytes rising from the tub. His voluminous body dripped huge amounts of water. He leaned with his right hand on his black staff made of ebony with a silver hilt in the shape of a knob. A medallion embedded with a black opal in the shape of a half moon hung from his neck. He had snatched both from his father long ago.

I supposed hugs weren't exactly common around royals. “There you are,” Freddie said, coming around the corner of the hallway. He wore a dark blue suit with a dark green shirt underneath. I pushed images of me taking it off of him in the car out of my head. I smiled at him. “Just making sure I meet requirements.” “You look perfect,” Freddie agreed, giving a nod to Mr. Irson before crossing the hallway to greet me. “I have some bad news though.” “Did something happen? Is everyone okay?” I asked, immediately imagining the worst situations. “Is someone sick?”

"Emma, I saw the video of Hunter fighting last night. What happened? Are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine, Freddie. And don't ask me to go to the Aftershock auditions today. I am not feeling well." Freddie, of all people, understands teen parties. He practically encourages me to attend them for fame, followers, and friends. The three 'Fs' I am supposed to care about. Freddie never thinks about the fourth 'F' for fuck. As in, I don't give a fuck today, Freddie. "Okay, I will let Model Perfect know you aren't feeling well. What are we sick with today?"