Helena Rojo Age Novels & Stories

"That doesn't suit you at all. You should just go back and put on your warrior suit. Why pretend to be girly now, huh?" I wince and shift nervously. Helena is the pack's future Gamma and is only mean to me. I have no idea why she hates me. There's no way someone like her could be jealous of someone like me. Helena is gorgeous, with brilliantly long, wavy strawberry-blonde hair, bright blue-green eyes, and long creamy legs. She's wearing a bold sleeveless white-and-gold dress that leaves little to the imagination, and her makeup is on point, making her beautiful features pop even more.

Helena said, and suddenly her appearance began to change. Her hair grew longer and darker. Her face shifted. Her eyes turned a different color. Within moments, she looked like a completely different person. "Glamour magic," Rosemary breathed. "You've been hiding your real identity." Jennifer smiled cruelly. "For two years, I've been working at the Council headquarters as 'Helena.' Building trust. Gaining access to powerful magic. Learning everything I needed to destroy you." "But why?" Rosemary asked. "I investigated your complaint three years ago. The Council cleared me of all charges. I did nothing wrong."

His tone was sharp, but the hunger in his eyes betrayed him. Helena had a remarkable body for a woman of 48. Thanks to botox, bbl and breast augmentation surgery. Years of carefully maintaining her physique had sculpted her into a woman who drew stares and silenced rooms. She’d married Harold Valdez, Marco’s father, at nineteen, a decision that cemented her place in the Valdez legacy. By twenty, a year later, she’d given birth to Marco, trading her youth for a life of power and privilege. Helena didn’t answer immediately. She stretched lazily, the curve of her body on full display, her hand sliding provocatively down her thigh. “Don’t act surprised darling ” she purred, her voice a siren’s c

she asked me with her wide eyes full of expectation. I clenched my teeth until they gritted and sat in my chair across from her. "Kate Johnson in my sophomore year of college," I finally answered. “So, you were...” "Almost twenty years," I said looking in amazement as her pupils dilated and her mouth parted, "Are you okay, Helena?" “How old was the girl?” she asked in turn. Oh no. I shook my head before speaking. “Forget it.” “Was she younger than you?” She asked looking at me thoughtfully, "she was older! Shit... senior year?”

" asked a female voice, interrupting her trail of thought. Helena turned to look up and her mouth slightly opened with admiration of the woman standing next to her.The woman had her hair tied up in a ponytail, the face of a supermodel and amazing curves that were to die for. "Uhm sure go ahead", she gestured with her hand. Helena couldn't help but stare at her as she elegantly took a seat and she smiled when the woman noticed her looking at her. Was she star struck? "Hi, i'm Roselyn. I live on the sixth floor", she introduced herself, offering a handshake. "I'm Helena, from second", she responded, accepting Roselyn's hand. "Did you just arrive here coz I haven't seen you around?" Roselyn ask

"It's true, Serena. Helena is... she's the one who saved me from the orphanage." "Orphanage?" I repeated stupidly. Nothing was making sense. "But your parents..." "Are not my real parents," Elena said, tears now flowing freely down her face. "I'm sorry I never told you. I was... I was ashamed." Helena moved further into the room, her elegant dress rustling softly. "It was during one of my world tours. It was twenty years ago. I visited an orphanage in San Francisco as part of a charity event. I was just going through the motions, really. Shaking hands with the director. Taking photographs for the press."

“What?” “Oh, you didn’t know. My birthday is December thirty-first and Chris’ is January first.” Helena just closed her eyes and shook her head. “You couldn’t just do the midnight thing. But two different years too. I should have known that you wouldn’t do anything so pedestrian like that. Everything with you two must be to the extreme. I want to know how you plan on staying alive if you paint a target on yourselves.” She was honestly worried about them.

Mario shouted and the sounds of music filled the whole house. Before Adelard could say anything, someone immediately caught him and dragged him along. It was a young woman in a long dress and with flowers in her hair. "Monsieur, look, these flowers were made by me," she said, holding his hand. "Very beautiful." "Dance, Monsieur. There is no need to be shy." "This is Helena. She is only eighteen years old. Don't be surprised, but she's in love with you," Mario whispered in his ear.

as Celeste twirled around in ever-prettier dresses. Helena had her dress at home already, originally purchased for her upcoming eighteenth. It was a deep, mysterious ruby red with a thigh-high leg split, a clingy body leading to a high neck halter top fastening. It wasn’t covered in cheap sparkle like the other dresses, the vivid red did all the talking. The exposed back of it was unlike anything she had ever worn before, she had felt like a different, more confident person when she stood in the mirror with it on.

Truthfully I had never been near anything that grand and like a mistress, I was never taken out anywhere so there was no chance of coming across such an item. "I am sorry," I exhaled after a minute, opening my eyes, "I have not seen anything like that." Helena sighed and ran her hands through the frenzy of brown curls she had exploding out from her scalp. I had tried to style it all back sleek and smart once, she had hated it. I had to confess the crazy curls suited her energy. She was a dynamo. My sloppy, haggard bob matched me perfectly too now I guess. "Then have you ever met a man with three red scars in a line across one side of his neck?"