Novelas y relatos de Hunger Games Portia

I know she’s both thinking about the safety of the pack and my own exhaustion level. “The police are on their way to meet Scar where Channing found the dead human. And,” I say looking up to glance at the clock on my office wall, “in just about six hours, Leader Bruno will be here to talk to us and Scar’s parents about their experiences with the undead, so we can have some ideas in place for when Scarlett contacts COWS. You know she’ll want you in on that meeting, too.” That’s another great thing about Scarlett — she recognizes the value that the mate brings to the table. Zella, Asher and Lupita aren’t just the mates of myself, Bree and Jacob, granting them the titles of Beta, Gamma and Delta

she whispered to me, making me remember the time when we saw him in the abandoned building where the Silver Stag had taken us. “We don’t know.” I shook my head and flicked my eyes everywhere as Lucas searched for him. “But if he’s going to take me, as long as he doesn’t hurt the pack, I’m gonna come with him.” “Are you crazy? You’re not going to let him take you,” she protested, loud enough to catch Giofré’s attention. “Let him take who?” he curiously asked as I rolled my eyes at Agatha. “Portia is trying to play the heroine. She said that she’ll let him take her as long as he doesn’t hurt the werewolves.”

she shouted as I opened the sliding door. I gave her a thumbs up and went inside, scanning the modern kitchens lengthy countertops filled with platters of food and appetizers. “Make a plate, sweetie,” Portia said, startling me from behind. She was sitting at a dining table with a few older women, assuming they were wives of other employees. “Yeah, that’s what I was coming for,” I lied, feeling as though I was being caught for wondering if Mack had messaged me back or not. “All of this food looks amazing.”

- she replied, smiling. Portia rolled off Luna and sat down on the couch next to her. She sighed. -What do you want to eat today? - James asked. - Popcorn? - Portia replied. -Popcorn? - asked James. The girl nodded.

The woman in her thirties smiled politely, hanging on my every word. "I'll need shoes too, black preferably.." I paused, distracted by the clicking of a woman's heels on the flooring. I looked around and found myself unable to say another word once I saw who the woman in heels was. Jamie Harris! Fuck!! Not now!! Of all people to walk through this lobby today, it had to be her. I wasn't prepared to see her yet. I've had a long time to think about how I wanted our first conversation to go,but I was jet lagged and my brain wasn't working. I haven't shaved in months.

“I didn't mean for you to hear it like this but you know everyone's more honest when they are drunk. So I—” “Honest?” Camila repeated, jaw tightened as she leaned towards her. “Does that mean that he really misses me and sees me as his wife?” Portia's face twisted into a frown, she shoved Camila back, applying more force than necessary. Camila crumbled to her knees, grabbing her chest as that was the exact spot Portia had her. It felt like she was drowning as darkness slowly consumed her. She struggled to reach for her bottle of medicine but all her efforts failed woefully.

"Sleep well?" The familiar female voice douses me like a bucket of ice water. My eyes shoot open, and I grip the seam of the blanket and yank it to my chin. I push myself onto my elbows and peer down the length of the bed. Standing at the foot of the bed, Portia stares down at me, her tight curls pulled into a stunning fluffy ball on the top of her head. I let out a rush of air. "Portia?" "Your services are required in the kitchen this morning." She swallows hard and averts her gaze. "One of the kitchen hands was killed last night, and we need someone on drinks until Vincent is finished with Thirteen."