Henry Golding Height Novels & Stories

Henry wasn't short; he was 6 feet, but her savior looked like 6'2. There was something dark and ruthless about his whole vibe. He could easily be taken for a gangster. "You want to lose a bone or two?" Her savior sneered menacingly while dropping his head to Henry's height, who stepped back with an ashen face. Without another word, he hurried out of there while his friends had already left. Once Henry stepped into the club through the back door. Mr. Knight in shining armor turned to face her. Her breath hitched when his dark eyes met her gaze.

I laid on a king size bed, there was a tall glass window frame which allowed the moonlight to shine in. 'Where the fuck was I?' My inner wolf, Lisa, asked, totally confused about the situation. The doors were opened, letting in a tall figure. "Oh great, you're finally awake. So how are you feeling?" The figure asked with a thick English accent prominent in his voice. He came closer to me. He was strikingly handsome, he was six foot tall with golden brown hair and a pair of golden eyes. They looked unreal. "I feel like I just got ran over by a fucking rhino, what do you think Goldie?" I said, placing my hand on my head.

Perhaps they were. Eleanor pulled in on fumes, stepped out of her car in a silk blouse and linen trousers, and looked around with the measured calm of a woman who had navigated far stranger social situations than this one. A man came out of the garage bay wiping his hands on a cloth that was doing the cloth no favors. He was perhaps twenty-eight or twenty-nine, tall and lean in a way that suggested he’d been built for actual labor rather than the performance of it. His hair was dark and needed cutting. His eyes, when he looked up, were the specific gray of the river on an overcast day.

“In case you forgot my name.” Callum. The memory rushes back—his towering frame blocking out the dim light of the ginnel, his voice sharp but protective as he carried me out of hell. God, he’s massive, like a human skyscraper. Seven feet, maybe just under, but to me, he’s impossibly big. Not just because of my size, though—I barely clear 4′10"—but because of the sheer presence he commands.

He ran his fingers through his gorgeous wet hair, and as he did, his biceps swelled ever so slightly, calling attention to his toned arms. In his swimming trunks, Hunter cut a lithe, strong figure. He was nearly six feet tall, had wide shoulders and a nice strong chest. The pool water ran down his body and sensually slid down the defined cuts of his well-formed abdomen. At 18 years old, Hunter was a young golden god among men.

He'd always been a bit thin due to his wrestling and stayed that way through adulthood. He was a relatively decent-looking guy with short-cropped thick brown hair, small squinty blue eyes, a narrow nose, thin lips, and a mediocre square jawline. He was 5 feet, eleven inches tall, and about 180 pounds even though he rarely worked out unless watching Mixed Martial Arts competitions counts. "Yeah, I'm on my way to Fantastic Fabrics, so I figured I'd bring your lunch by," Chloe said and did a little finger wave past him to his father, an older grayer version of Jonathan with a slight heft in the gut area. He nodded in return.

It can be very confusing, but that was all he needed. He knew his mate was nowhere in his pack, or he would have smelt her already and he refused to take anyone that is not of his kind. Gore stood up, throwing the papers in the bin, then he walked over to the mini fridge in his office. He had to bend all the way down to the floor just to get a beer. His brother, Derek, always joked that he had his own gravitational pull, because of his height; at seven feet, four inches. Suddenly, Gore's head snapped up at the sound of distress.

Unfortunately. "I wouldn't be responsible for what happens if you keep staring at me like that," his voice snapped me out of my trance. My eyes widened at how close his face was to mine. I batted my eyelashes in shock and cleared my throat. I wiggled out of his grip and landed on the ground. I almost sprained my leg upon landing. He is so far from the ground. Just how tall is he? "Seven foot three inches," he said. "Huh?"

She quickly spit out the pit and, looking up, saw Reginald staring straight at her, waiting for her answer. So, this was his test? He was more boring than she thought. Seeing her hesitate, Reginald's gaze gradually darkened. "..." She could do it. When Heloise had previously researched Reginald's details online, she had come across some information. Sitting there, Heloise began to search her memory for relevant details. After a thorough search, she finally arrived at an accurate number. "192 cm." *Smack!* Reginald flattened her paper crane with a palm and said coldly, "That's with shoes on. My actual height is 191."

“What did you do to Henry? I swear, if you hurt a hair on—“ “Who the fuck is Henry?” He narrows his eyes at me. Something dark lurks in his gaze and it makes me feel nervous for a bit. But I’m not going to let him change the subject by intimidating me. He should know all his tactics that might have worked on me before won’t work on me now. “The man I was with.” I moved closer to him, squaring my shoulders so I appeared taller. Nature really did me a disservice by making this man this tall. And I wasn’t short. At least close to normal people, my 5’8 was perfect.