Novel & Cerita Hazel Fanart

I ask Arnold, my voice laced with concern. “I hope so.” Arnold replies, his brow furrowed with worry. “But we need to keep a close eye on her.” We make our way to Hazel’s chambers, hoping to check on her and make sure she's comfortable. But as we enter the room, we're met with a sight that leaves us both speechless. Hazel is pacing back and forth, muttering to herself in a language I don’t recognize. Strange symbols are etched into the walls, and the air crackles with an eerie energy.

Desmond stormed away. Who is Hazel? * I felt a cold shiver run down to my spine as an old creepy looking woman walked into the ward and flashed a smile at me. She must be the pack witch, Hazel. I thought as I scrutinized her closely. Her long gray hair fell behind her back as she walked with the support of the oak staff in her palm. She has unnatural pink eyes, pointed and long nose, hunched back, and wrinkled face. She looks so scary. Silent fell into the ward. The atmosphere in the ward changed after she walked into the ward.

Hazel chuckled, seemingly unfazed by my threat. "You mean the mate who has fallen for my fiancé?" Hazel raised an eyebrow. "I think we're in for a bloodbath, because my fiancé won't let her go. Believe me, I despise her, and I want her out of this packhouse. But Ryder refuses to leave her, and Zelda, well, she wouldn't want to lay eyes on you, let alone be with you," Hazel revealed. Her words pierced my heart, yet I remained resolute in my determination to rescue Zelda, no matter the cost or the blood spilled.

Hazel in particular needed it, she needed to get her mind off all that happened yesterday, I couldn’t help but think of the perfect birthday gift to give her since her birthday was approaching. It’s in two months time. I silently wished her brother would respond quickly and better to treatment and I knew the best gift she could get that day would be a day with her brother finally recovering. “It’s so hot out.” Hazel’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts and I looked as she squinted under the gigantic hat she had on as she held it with one hand and tried to fan herself with the other. I saw Lyla rummaging through the bag they’d pack and she brought out an hand-fan

She leaves the door open as she turns and walks away and asks, “Why do you care about me?” I enter the room and close the door behind me. Immediately, the scent of paint is overwhelming. There are canvases all over the room, most of them with beautiful landscapes painted on them. There’s two big doors that are opened for a giant balcony where Hazel now sits on a stool with a canvas in front of her and a paintbrush in her hands. Honestly, it’s a beautiful sight, seeing the sun shine on her light caramel complexion and I can see the roots of her hair from here and it’s a muddy brown color. She’s stunning.

I pushed down the storm of emotions, grabbed my things, and called a ride. Hazel opened her door, wearing paint-stained shorts and one sock. “You’re early.” She let me in, and I stifled a yawn. Her apartment looked exactly as I had imagined it would be - chaotic, vibrant, and unapologetically hers. Paintings leaned against every wall, covering nearly every surface. Half-finished canvases stood near the open windows, brushes soaking in jars of murky water. The air hung heavy with the sharp scent of oil paint, fresh coffee, and a faint trace of cigarettes.

“Your eyes were brown.” Hazel’s smirk widened, but there was genuine joy in them this time. “Very good, sister.” Knox’s hand tightened as he positioned me behind him now, like a shield. His voice was cold now. “Who are you?” he growled at Hazel. His voice was dark and deep—Fenrir was on the surface. Hazel raised her hands in mock surrender, but she looked unfazed. “Calm down.” Then she faced me. “I still hate violet in case you're wondering.” She smirked.

HAZEL’S HOUSE – STILL IN THE MORNING Hazel stood in front of the mirror, slipping her books into her shoulder bag. She was dressed casually, hair in a messy ponytail, earbuds in, head bobbing lightly to the music. The sharp sound of a car horn outside made her flinch. She yanked out one earbud and walked over to the window. Her eyes narrowed the moment she saw the sleek black car parked in front of the gate. She frowned deeply when she saw the plate number , she immediately recognized it has Randy's car.

Hazel was standing in the corner of the shop, starring at the large screen of race cars in front of her as though she was keenly interested, but in truth she could barely see what was in front of her. Her mind was elsewhere, she couldn't help but keep wondering what Freya and Lucinda were discussing.

“Something that hurts Reaper. Routes. Safehouses. Weak points in their security. Prove you’re choosing me.” Hazel didn’t look up right away. She finished writing a note, then set the pen down. Her face stayed calm, almost bored. Inside, her mind turned fast and cold. *Feed him scraps. Make them look valuable. Point him at places we already abandoned or reinforced. Buy time. Learn more.*