Hannah Montoya Feet Novels & Stories

And then she’s gone, weaving her way through the crowd. I poke at my food absently. The silence around me is a little too loud now. But before I can relax into the stillness, someone approaches the seat opposite mine. I look up. Hailey Montague. Her shinny honey-blonde hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, her makeup so flawless and glowy, in that clean girl way only girls like her seem to pull off. Her full round lips are peach glossy, wide blue eyes sizing me up with a blink.

He stepped around the car and opened her door. “Ladies first.” Montserrat stepped out, and the moment her heels touched the carpet, cameras flashed from every direction. She turned toward him with a small smile. “Thank you.” Another series of flashes went off. Montserrat lowered her voice. “I would suggest we do something like this.” Before Aaron could ask what she meant, she slipped her arm through his and rested her head lightly against his shoulder. Aaron froze. He looked down at her, genuinely caught off guard. “You're getting way too good at this.”

Reynolds stepped aside to reveal the newcomer. As she entered the room, the collective gasp of surprise was nearly audible. Hannah was a vision that seemed to have stepped straight out of a storybook. Her long, chestnut hair cascaded in loose waves down her back, a striking contrast to her fair complexion. Her eyes were a captivating shade of azure, reminiscent of the clearest summer skies. Freckles adorned her cheeks, giving her an endearing and youthful charm. She carried herself with grace and poise, her movements as fluid as a dancer's. Hannah was dressed in the school's uniform, a crisp white blouse and a pleated plaid skirt, but she managed to infuse it with her sense of style. A delic

Her mother’s voice sliced through the air before she could finish. "Miriam," Hannah said, her tone annoyed but polished. She sat comfortably on the leather sofa, her legs crossed neatly, with a glass of white wine in her hand. Her dark brown hair was pinned into a soft bun, and her robe was silk, baby blue, with a floral trim.

Hannah looked her best, following the several interview documentaries that she had watched, this was the best she could pull and to be fair, she tried. She held on to her blue-black pant that clung tightly to her skin. She pulled at her crop top that wasn't so crop to reveal her belly but crop enough to be crop top. Her feet spiked in her black sandal heels, hitting the ground in a thomping sound like the morse code...SOS. She indeed needed help. She was unsettled and anxious, checking her wristwatch, she looked back up at the oval-face lady that was coming out from the office with a bitter look.

“Guys! How many times did I tell you not to bother her so early?” I looked up to see Hannah standing in the doorway, now fifteen years old and taller than I sometimes remembered. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with Apollo’s sharp gray eyes but my features, a perfect blend of both of us. She tried so hard to look mature and responsible, especially in front of her younger brothers. She walked over and gently tugged at the triplets. “It’s still early, let Mum get dressed and come downstairs first.” I stood up slowly and smiled at her.

I nod, walking over. "I'm Hannah," she says, patting the bench beside her. She's young, maybe only a year or two older than me. Blonde hair in a ponytail, bright blue eyes, genuinely warm smile. "I'm one of the healers. Well, healer-in-training, technically. Still learning." "Nice to meet you." "You too! Oh my god, we've all been dying to meet you. The triplets' fated mate. That's so rare. So special."

Even if Simon caught her, she had to fight back with everything she had. "Hannah, hand it over!" Simon snapped, his patience wearing thin. "Okay!" Hannah nodded. "Catch!!" She hurled the candlestick at Simon with all her might, then sprinted for the window. Ignoring the pain as glass cut into her feet, she jumped out. Hannah landed hard and winced in pain. But she pushed herself up and half-ran, half-limped down the sidewalk. Pain throbbed in her feet with every step, but she couldn't stop now.

I thought that Eric would hold me till the morning, but he left me with so much disappointment in myself and coldness in bed. "I like movies too," she said. "Hey, do you know Zaya Henderson? That famous actress? I kept seeing her around here. She's not even British, but I think she's in good vibes with Ms. Amanda." Why wouldn't they? They wear the same feather. "Never heard of her," I spoke in bitterness. "She's not that very famous, but what I know, her family's a big time. And do some dirty tricks to put her face on big boards," Hannah gossiped in a whisper.

Considering Aaron had been able to fly there directly in less than half of the time, she was fairly certain that his lengthy head start would be problematic. But she wasn't willing to give up. Hannah had arranged for a motorcycle rental, which would be enough, considering all she had with her was the serum, her passport, wallet, and phone, all in a small backpack. She hadn't taken the time to pack even a change of clothes.