Greem Novels & Stories

Levi said in a whisper voice Azrael and Lexi both jumped down from the vent following Levi. What welcomed them was the stinky dungeon. The stench of body odor and dried blood lingers through the air and Azrael was just trying her best not to vomit. The smell made them nauseous but determination took over. They all looked through the cells of the dungeon. They were wolves from the Crimson Crest pack, lying down without strength. At first glance you might think they are dead but they are not. They are only covered with their own blood and sweat but they are still breathing… barely alive.

Denver would leap forward at any second to tell me about how this was all just some elaborate prank. However, as the second hand ticked on and an entire minute was squandered on my incredulity, I began to realize that this wasn't some sick joke. "This is Alpha Orion Kessler from the South portion of the Greystone pack," my father introduced as he gestured to the non-tattooed Alpha. He then shifted his attention to the grim Alpha with tattoos swirling over his pale flesh, "and this is Alpha Miles Kessler from the North portion of Greystone pack."

I am, after all, an experienced Luna. "Welcome Cadet," the instructor moves aside. "Introduce yourself to the class and then show us what you've got." She turns and her gray-blue eyes freeze me in place. "Alexis Greystone, Silver Crescent," she smiles as she gives a little wave. A few of the other trainees begin to whisper. "Isn't she the one who was married to Sly Sterling?" Gretchen gasps.

“Damn. Just her name already makes my butt tingle. When is it? Now? Should we cut class?” “Idiot! It’s tonight. At our bar,” Green said. Jeygreen Xris Gutierrez, known simply as Green, was born into a life of luxury. His mother was a businesswoman who married a wealthy Portuguese heir to Hacienda Gutierrez in Portugal. Green’s father was an excellent sommelier, and this expertise led the family to establish a wine business in the Philippines, becoming one of the country’s top distributors of fine wine. Green had inherited his father’s skills and, even at a young age, was already adept at identifying quality wines.

They carry the weight of permanence, the kind that creaks with menace when pushed open, like they are warning you that once you step inside, there is no easy way back out. And as if not enough, they are framed by bouncers in all-black with that dead-eyed stillness only men paid to break bones can manage. Bass music pulses faintly even through the metal, a promise of chaos waiting inside. The air reeks of sea salt and flowers, mixed with the sharp tang of spilled beer clinging to the pavement. “Is that …” Lee sounds a bit lost, so I butt in. “Yep, that’s Damion Grimm. A beautiful specimen of the male species — champion, adrenaline junkie, big on speed, not big on taking things slow. Mel’s hub

Three days later, Shawn came to see me looking happy, with a thick stack of documents in his hands. "Nina, it's done. Harrison agreed." His voice was trembling with excitement. "A ten percent share in Grandview Tech under Fletcher Group. Harrison transferred it directly into your name and said it was a gift for his future great-grandchild!" I raised an eyebrow and took the share transfer agreement from him. That was certainly generous, but it only made Shawn look even more useless.

His ride dipped down so that Gavin could return the wave and share a smile with Nya before the dragon shot back up into the air, its wings flapping furiously to gain the proper height. One of the dragons, a large green one with no rider, fluttered down from the sky and came to rest not far away from where they were standing. He quickly transformed into a familiar form. Nya cringed. It was Gator. At least his clothing stayed with him, as it had with Slate and Flint, and he wasn’t standing there undressed. “Gator! It’s great to see you!” Flint said, running over to clasp hands with the trainer. “You as well,” Gator said. His eyes fell on Nya, and he grumbled something that might’ve been a gree

Jakkon regenerated, a cold gleam in his eye. “Where is it?” Samael demanded. A twist of the limb, a snap of the neck. Jakkon waited coolly beneath Samael, watching with disinterest as the Grim Reaper dismembered him. He raised his brow in appraisal. “It's been quite some time, brother. You seem to have lost your touch.”

“I don’t have time to explain the whole thing. Luna Seraphine mentioned something during our… conversation, and I need Nova to confirm if it’s true.” Creed’s voice hardens. “What did she say?” “She mentioned a Goddess,” I begin, stopping by the window to look out at the dark forest that surrounds our territory. “Marle or some shit. Said the entity in Morana can’t be removed because of this Goddess. I need to know who the hell this Marle is, and if Seraphine’s full of shit or not.” His growl vibrates through the phone, a deep, primal sound that sends a chill down my spine. Creed doesn’t lose control like this often, which tells me that this name—this Goddess—is something big. Something bad.

I said. A few seconds later the team moved from the trees in single file toward the sliding doors. They were on the patio now, wearing combat blacks in the darkness. They were armed with SRS A2’s and Glocks. Nick bent down and started fiddling with the door. To our ears he was loud, but to them it was barely audible. I put the phone off and we moved to our different positions.