Heather Heavenly Escort Novels & Stories

Nora’s face was deathly pale. Her lips trembled, and her eyes were unfocused as she muttered repeatedly, “No... It can’t be... How could she be the heiress of Sanscape Group…? This can’t be…” Mr. Watson finally snapped out of it, and his face turned pale too. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his legs trembled slightly. He instinctively tried to step back, but a chair behind him blocked him. He looked like a complete mess.

At the end of my life, this means something. But then Heather appears behind the Silver Hunter, a palm-sized, circular talisman in her hand. She jumps onto him and presses it against his neck. He shrieks as if he's on fire and goes to bat her away, but it's like he doesn't have the strength. He slumps to the ground, unconscious. I'm stunned for a moment, wondering how Heather managed to take down such a powerful opponent. Heather grabs my arm. "Come on, let's go!"

Stepping closer to the bars, to get a better look at Heather, I see her still sitting on the floor, with her head down, as she continues to laugh, and I begin to wonder what the hell is going on here, before she says, “Did you like your little goose chase, I sent you on? Did you really think it would be that simple to find your precious mate?” “Look at me.” I commanded Heather, wanting to see her face, because the words coming from her mouth at this point sounded not of her own, but like of Natasha’s, and I wondered how this could be, but after what happened last night, I am realizing that anything is possible. Heather’s head at that moment slowly began to rise, and when she opened her eyes,

Nathan says and I cry they both pull me into a hug. “Thank you. She will always hold a special place in my heart. I would be honoured to wear this. She didn’t deserve this, and neither did you.” I say with tears and grief lacing my words. Taking the locket out of the box, Heather takes it from me and places on my neck and she kisses my cheek. “Alpha Destinee, you are a beautiful soul. You and Alpha Titus are always welcome at our door. Now spend time with your family,” Heather says with a smile on her face.

In its place was now a sincere and warm smile. “Madam Heather Quelch, don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. I’ve been sent by Brother Tyr to protect you. From now on, your surgery and safety here in America will be taken care of by our Regal Palace.” Heather was still in a daze. That scene earlier had truly frightened her. Nevertheless, she was the wife of the Southriver King, Carson Yorke, and she herself came from a profound background. Hence, for all her life, scenes like these were a common sight for her.

That the earthquake was just a freak coincidence, a natural disaster unrelated to the events she had been part of? The thought was comforting, but something about it didn’t sit right. His gaze flickered toward Kathleen, who sat beside him, her face pale and silent. He knew her well enough to see that she was barely holding herself together. Christian’s thoughts shifted to the last coherent memory he had before being sedated—the words Samantha had whispered to him. A warning. A plea. It had been cryptic, almost nonsensical at the time, but now it carried an unbearable weight. "You've been dragged inside here, I had to cover you with my remaining light, so they couldn't completely devour you.

She smiled back and wrapped her hand around my arm tugged. “Will you be my escort Beta Victor?” She asked coyly, peering up through her lashes at me. “It would be my honor, Miss Tori.” I flashed a wide smile at her. I stood tall and proud as I placed my other hand on her arm and lead her out the door. I heard the Alpha chuckle behind us as we left the office. We walked down the hallway into the main part of the house and could hear the other pack members talking and milling about waiting for the Alpha. As we appeared in the main room, everyone bowed their heads and greeted us. A chorus of “Alpha” and “Beta” rang through the room.

Although the other car was not severely damaged, the driver died on the spot. Onlookers gathered around, but no one dared to approach Sheila's car, even though she was pleading for help from inside. Suddenly, a commanding voice ordered his guards to rescue her from the wreckage. It was none other than the number one wealthy businessman, Alexander Westwood. As the guards finally rescued Sheila and the taxi driver, they were swiftly transported to the nearest hospital in a convoy of luxurious cars. Upon arrival, Sheila was rushed to the emergency section, but the doctor delivered the heartbreaking news that the driver had passed away, and Sheila was in a coma.

“Tell Damien to keep decoding. Every record, every fund, every hidden ledger. When we’re done, the truth won’t just defend us—it’ll define us.” Athens - Temporary Clinic A single bandage crossed Adrian’s temple; monitors hissed faintly above him. He lay half‑awake, listening to the muted rhythm of rain and machines. Hale sat nearby, still running surface scans from a small terminal. “You bought them time,” Hale murmured. “Doesn’t look like Charlotte expected you to survive it.” “She never does,” Adrian said, voice low, steady. “But she’ll change tactics now, she always does when the ghosts start screaming.”

The concierge watched, as Nick Henderson and Gabriel Swann escorted their delightful lady friend across the foyer of the hotel. She was beautiful and had an innocent charm that would have his countrymen giving very long second glances. "Mademoiselle Ashton," he bowed over her hand. "Enchante," he murmured. He turned to Nick, "I have ordered the best limousine for you, Sir," he raised his hand for the doorman to open the door for them.