Grimjow Novels & Stories

finally shift. I went to look up and the person carrying me and was shocked to see it was the man from earlier, his tattoos were visable at his shirt edge showing me that he was most likely covered in them, his hair cut was so much different then the men around here, the sides were shaven to the skin but long on the top; I couldnt help but notice a scar running down his jaw. This man was very much my type, old style warrior vibes flowed from him and dam was it sexy. He probaly saw me as a weakling but I couldn't help but be thankful he didnt seem to noice me looking at him because I really liked the view. "Rouge." His voice startled me as he suddenly looked down at me his eyes I thought wer

He gained on me as I backed up on the large tree,I tried getting to my feet but the excruciating pain in my ribs made it hard . Coming head to head with me ,he stops I couldn't believe my eyes there was no one a black mist that was impossible I blinked hoping I was dreaming Suddenly he blows up in a cloud of pitch black smoke then am pulled to the darkness

"Go home, squirt." He scowled at me though his gaze never left my sister. "Hathenemeira," he said, "I am Jarismorthistal, Knight of the Nineteenth Plane and I challenge you for status." ***

Jamari is the only wolf I have ever seen displaying any kind of magic. “We told you you would get stronger.” Mischief twinkles in the eyes of Clotho. What the fuck is happening!?

Blake looked at me, his eyes appearing haunted. “Hey, are we making plans to go get Jasmine back yet?” Jasmine’s cousin, whom I recognized from earlier when we’d taken family portraits, walked into the room. “Because I can get a flight chartered from Alaska and have a good number of my warriors here in less than twelve hours.” “Thanks, Alpha Tyce.” Blake shook his hand. “Hey, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I’m Alpha Alex Adalwolf from Pine Forest Pack.” I put my hand out to him, eager to make relationships with other alphas.

He looked like he'd been stung by an entire hives-worth of bees, and was still waiting for the swelling to go down. And then there was Aaron. He was the same height as Big Jim but looked like a rake beside him, which was crazy. Aaron was broad shouldered, almost three times me across and well defined, though you could never tell just how much until he had his shirt off. His hawk tattoo glistened with the trails of sweat running down his tanned chest, its inked talons raking his shuddering stomach as a feathered wing arched itself over his right shoulder.

Whatever that thing was, but how were they connected? My visions of Grisha were painful, they were draining, and they were chilling. But my vision of the burning bird was calm, peaceful, and utterly soul-fetching. But why did it scream Grisha? Because I heard it, I heard it loud and clear and I knew it screamed Grisha! What in the hell was Grisha and what did it have to do with the burning bird? For an umpteenth time ever since I set my foot in Varagrafena, I laid awake at night, filled with nothing but questions, and more confusion!

he said with a tone of frustration in his voice. He called then through the phone. A few minutes later they walked inside, able-bodied men with heavily built muscles. All of them bowed to me out of respect, except one. He walked to me and stretched forth his hand with a smile. “You must be Grim the hybrid. I am Jace Montero,” he said. My eyes darted to Hunter, who had an ‘I don't know what went to his head’ look. My eyes moved back to Jace; most of his body was covered with tattoos and a scar by his neck.

Confused, I glanced up and realized that I wasn't alone in this space. Across from me sat a guy, holding a blunt in his hand. His gaze locked onto mine, and in that moment, I almost forgot why I had been crying. His beautiful dark skin glowed under the moonlight, adorned with an array of tattoos that covered every inch of his body. Neatly braided cornrows cascaded down his shoulders, and his chiseled jaw tensed intermittently. His lips had a captivating shade of pink-a striking combination of features. And then there were his eyes. A light shade of gray, almost blending with the white of his eyes. They possessed a cold yet captivating allure.

Ragnar opens the first folder and looks at his friend with furrowed brows. "Moreira already gave me the results of the tests he did on Katrina Grimlore's blood yesterday afternoon, and I want you to see them first," Ramiro says, pointing to one of the papers. Despite Ragnar's attempts to understand the signs, he is unable to do so. "She's a hybrid breed, brother," says Ramiro, trying to add an air of mystery to the moment. Ragnar smiles and shakes his head. "Tell me something I don't know, Ramiro. I found that out the first time I saw her."