Henry Golding Novels & Stories

She tried to relax and clear her mind. Nathaniel pointed out certain buildings and told her their history along the way. She had to admit that it took her mind off the stone. She enjoyed the scenery as they drove into the countryside. Nathaniel had told her that Barnaby lived in the woods and had no neighbors for miles, so she wasn't surprised by the countryside they saw. She also wasn't surprised when they turned down a well-maintained dirt road.

He places his hand inside his left jacket, taking out his reading glasses and placing them back on his face. He makes his way inside the building towards his dorm. At the entrance to his stairway awaits his childhood friend Brandon. A young boy who is the total opposite of his. Brandon is known by most people. He's popular and outgoing. Dark brown hair and toned fair-skinned, with a sculpted body he likes to show off. Although Russell is in better shape than he is, and could probably kick his ass in an instant. But no one knows of Russell's hidden talent and a favorite hobby of illegal underground cage fighting.

His blonde hair was slicked back and his brown eyes held mischief. He must have been only a few inches taller than me because he looked short. He had a baby face that made him look like he wasn't mature enough. His gold suit was tacky. Did he have to do gold? Couldn't he have gotten a less conspicuous gold? It felt like he wore it just to stand out. Despite me telling him that I didn't want another drink, he gestured for a server. The server placed a new flute right in front of me. He was cocky. Even as he sat beside me, I could tell he thought he was hot enough to get with anyone.

Caleb covered his back, firing at the advancing men. Suddenly, Henry froze mid-stride. A faint metallic click echoed beneath his boot. He glanced down, stomach twisting. “A mine,” he whispered, eyes snapping up to Caleb. “Don’t come closer.” Caleb’s gaze dropped to Henry’s raised foot, suspended just above the ground. “A mine,” Henry repeated, jaw clenched tight. Caleb’s chest seized. He fired twice at two men charging forward; their bodies hit the dirt hard. “A mine?” His voice trembled as he edged closer, spotting jagged prongs jutting from the earth. “No...”

I watched the interaction between them with a slight curve at the corner of my lips. Holding the lead rope around her neck, I led her out of the stable. Leaving her with Stella, I walked back into the stable, spotting Aaron in front of a brown horse, holding out a half-bitten apple to it. I arched a brow, walking towards them. The horse naturally spotting me before the stable boy. “Lord Oliver,” he stumbled snapping his gaze to mine, his arm still held out towards the horse. “How many times do I need to remind you to just call me Oliver?”

“It’s you. Your presence. You’re… familiar. Where did you say you were from?” Henry’s throat tightened. He thought of his mother, of the life they had fled, of the danger of being recognized. He forced a careful answer. “From the east, sir. A small town.” Donovan’s lips curved into a smile that wasn’t really a smile. “A small town? Interesting. You carry yourself differently. Not like a boy from nowhere. More like…” He let the word hang in the air. “…a wolf who has seen war.” Henry’s breath caught. The GM glanced between them, clearly puzzled, but said nothing.

My free hand instantly clutched onto the rosary hanging from my neck, whispering a silent prayer in my head. Mickey's eyes landed on me almost instantly. When I first met him, like Eddie, I hadn't taken the time out to register his features or appearance. I never thought I would see the man again, let alone be hunted by him because he wanted to own me. The fact that he had no hair on his head did not take away from the man's beauty. He looked to be in his late thirties early forties, at most. Dark hair peppered along his jawline, trimmed to frame his face. His eyes were golden brown, almost predatory, and Mickey had a nose that was crooked in the slightest from one too many breaks.

SILAS The moon hung high in the sky, casting a cold, silver glow on the forest floor. My breath came out in sharp white puffs as Desmond dragged me out into the woods, his grip tight on my arm. Around us, the pack of wolves moved silently, their eyes glowing yellow with hunger. The veins in my body throbbed, each pulse like fire under my skin. “Look around you, Silas,” Desmond hissed in my ear, his voice sharp with anger. “These wolves are hungry, and tonight, the hunter becomes the hunted.”

A faint, sickeningly polite smile touched his lips. "The name is Marcus, Miss Montgomery," the man replied, his voice a smooth, cultured baritone that held absolutely no warmth. He raised the blue-glowing satellite terminal, tapping the screen with a single, gloved finger. "And I am the chief archivist for the true author of your family’s destruction. Dominic Vance was a magnificent weapon, a ruthlessly obsessive titan who thought he was dismantling the Montgomery empire for his own personal collection. He actually believed his three-year hunt for you was his own design."

I greet him nicely. He lifted his head and look me in the eye “oh, yes, I am from group 5 as well, waiting for the others. May I know your name? I think it’s raining heavily there in their places” he looked up to see the sky tonight. The beginning of a new year is still in a rainy season and it’s hard to predict the weather.