Harper Zilmer 소설 & 이야기

That's okay, she doesn't need to say anything, she doesn't know me. "What about you?" I ask, needing to change the topic. She nods, "I like the color red, I'm also twenty-five, you're sitting in my favorite place, I have two brothers, and my favorite person in the world is my grandmother." "Why your grandmother?" I'm interested to know, "Is she a good woman?" Harper smiles, "The best woman I know. She taught me how to fight when I was a small child. She even helped me when I had my first shift." She looks up at the sky, sad, "She's no longer here but she's always in my heart."

Perhaps he was right, there was no reason to fear. Taking the microphone, Harper met the crowd’s eyes with a steady gaze. “I am Harper Laurier. I am not a witch spy, nor am I a traitor to our werewolf heritage. I am not what rumors paint me to be. For the past two decades, I’ve been a regular member of this pack..." Harper began to talk about her experiences growing up over the years and her call for peace as one of the victims of war. Thanks to the righteousness of Ruby and some of the citizens, the crowd calmed down and listened attentively.

There had to be a mistake. As we reached the side of the room, the man disentangled from both of us. Looking at me I see an awareness of who I was. He was breathtaking. He had dirty blonde hair slicked back, hair you could run your hands through. His eyes were a breathtaking silver color that sparkled under the lights. He was over 6 ft tall compared to my 5’4” stature he was a giant to me. He was all muscle and looked like he was in his mid 20’s. I wonder what he thought of me when he looked at me. Holding my hand out and smiling, I introduce myself, “I am Beta Lily Thompson from the Golden Moon Pack.”. As I said this the woman who was with my mate smirked. Looking at her I gave her

It was the worst part about being in a small town. After the third time Harper said the word skank loud enough to echo through the cubicles Zira decided it was time to go. She put her earbuds in her ears and turned the music on as loud as her ears could handle. With her empty book cart and clipboard, she took an elevator up to the stacks. Her mind was a jumble of anxiety so she did her best to focus on the music and dance her way through the towering shelves while she looked for the books on her list.

I explained. "So if your theory is correct, Milly's name will be somewhere in this book in red?' Max asked his voice still a little croaky from sleep. "Yep, so now it should be easily distinguishable," I said flicking through pages looking for a sign of red. It wasn't until another hour later that I spotted the next red name. A girl named Elizabeth from the 1700s. I put my slight disappointment that it wasn't Milly aside and continued to search for another thirty minutes.

Nef and Ron were already on the way towards their table. Zion rubbed his brows as he felt a sudden pain but there was no choice to follow the hungry friends. With their tummies, their eyes were also hungry and thirsty and that thirst can only be quenched by looking at the hot girls. When the girls saw them, they were over the cloud nine. Zion is no less than Roman or Greek God. Slightly tanned skin, dark eyes, dark hair, tall height, perfectly balanced and muscled body, high IQ, a heir of the top IT company of the country, in short he is perfect in every way and a dream guy of every girl.

"I am Alpha Ezekiel, this is the Bloodhound pack. And you are a rouge in my house, surrounded by my warriors, and my pack of 1500 men. You're not the one with the power here, I am. So when I ask a question I except it answered. Now. Who. Are. You?" I clenched my jaw in frustration, he was right. I had no power. No choice. He could do anything to me right now. And I wouldn't have any help or any way to stop him. I nearly reached at the thought. I was fucked. Royally. With that in mind I responded to his question; "Cecil." "And where did you came from? Are there any more like you?" He fired the questions in quick succession. "The East Coast, I travel alone and have not come across another fema

he said, and I looked at him, surprised. "Yep, I tested her, and she passed. She is John Hunter's daughter, alright. Her brain is like her father's brain. Her memory is unbeatable." He confirmed. "How?" I asked. "She read and summarised six hunter's grimoires in two days. She can tell you everything about eliminating werewolves, vampires, and witches. Her assimilation skill is very high. Are you sure you want me to train her because once that dam is opened, there will be no shutting it?" He said, and I stared at him, thinking, how could a human being read and summarise six grimoires in two days? I was proud of Karen.

He paused when he heard the door creak. "Miss Coldwell, how generous of you to join us," he said, not even looking. "Sorry, sir," I muttered, making my way to an empty seat halfway back. As I passed, a girl with shiny blonde curls and a ridiculously tiny purse whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Guess biker girls don't believe in alarm clocks." I didn’t flinch. Just glanced sideways at her. Harper Deville. I knew her type. Expensive perfume. Fake sympathy. Raised on champagne and the idea that other people existed only to orbit her.

Harper couldn’t stop the way her stomach flipped every time his name lit up her screen. It was ridiculous. Immature. Reckless. And real. Too real. That night, Harper got home, tossed her bag on the couch, and curled up in her bedroom with her sketchbook. She drew without thinking. Lines. Curves. A pair of sneakers pointed toward the edge of a rooftop. A girl sitting just out of frame, watching a sunset she couldn’t touch. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She glanced. DM again. jaxonbrooks: