Imperial Fists Chapters Mga Nobela at Kwento

Why did her touch still have an effect on me? "Get. Out!" I ordered though gritted teeth, my fists balled. ****** This Chapter is dedicated to you, Valentina R. Author is sending hugs 🤗

"Why are you fighting it, Pim? If this thing wants to delete Mother, let it! Let it burn the entire empire to the ground!" Chalida’s fingers dug into Pim’s shoulders, her nails biting through the thin fabric of Pim’s silk blouse. The penthouse air felt thin, recycled, and choked with the ozone tang of overheating circuits.

The old woman just smile but didn't answer to her question, instead she looked at the Emperor who has a sad expression glint on his eyes but immediately disappeared and replace it with an emotionless face. END OF CHAPTER 15 END OF CHAPTER 15

Her movements were fluid, and controlled, just like they always were during practice. Fury gushed off her in waves. If she'd still been debating exile or submission, that hesitation was gone now. Another spy came at me. I ducked low, tackled him by the waist, and drove us both into the dirt. My fist connected with his jaw—once, twice—until his head lolled to the side. I stood fast, panting. Blood on my knuckles. Not mine. The council chamber crackled in the distance. The roof had begun to fall thanks to the fire.

he roared, his eyes heavy in rage and a grin of satisfaction secured the brim of my lips. “Tails matched and trembled on, Alfred. You do not have a hand to throw punches, so your mouth, should not also be tied to the back.” I knew well that I was being completely mischievous with my word and it was burning the light out of him. His hand suddenly raised, ready for a punch, but I was quick to grasp it. Slightly shaking my head simultaneously, I pulled his hands down. “Future emperors have decorum, dey do not go about throwing punches, and yes, your woman is mine now you might as well need to fight for that.

Ian shifted into his human form and stepped forward, raising his hand to show them his middle finger. "How about you go fuck yourselves!" he spat. "Have it your way," she hissed as the elders began going down the stairs. Felix and I rushed ahead in a flash movement, raising our fists together to strike one of the elders, but the punch was easily guarded. I was about to raise my other fist when I was pushed back by a wave that felt like wind. The elder smirked as the wave intensified, making it hard for me to move forward. When I glanced to the side, I noticed the rest were fighting, doing their best, and I was the only one pushing them back.

Camden My untapped fists drive into Chase's face one after another. So much anger and rage release through each it, I can't fucking stop. Each hit ricocheting from my knuckles up my wrist and forearm, the sound of skin against skin fueling me toward dominating this mother fucker. Nobody lays a hand on my woman. It's just monster against beast now. He struggles trying to block my hits but his weak attempts are no match for my experience. His legs come up trying to wrap around me and I anchor myself on top of him, he's not going anywhere.

The things that kept men like them in power. What started as a suggestion about visiting the new territory turned into something else entirely. I watched it happen in front of me like a nightmare unfolding in real time. "Your territory's gotten soft," The Mancini, Petro, said leaning back slightly, his gaze fixed on Enzo. A grin spread across his face like he’d just told a joke. "Can't even keep your targets anymore." The table went quiet. Enzo's jaw clenched. I saw it happen, the way his entire body went very still.

“I do.” Magnus covered his mouth with one hand, though I noticed the corners of his lips twitch. Even Ragnar looked suspiciously close to smiling. I narrowed my eyes at all three of them. “You planned this.” “No,” Ragnar answered with complete seriousness. “We merely expected this reaction.” Valerian pushed the top book a little closer to me. The leather cover looked older than anything I had ever touched. “The Founding of the Iron Fang Empire.” The second followed. “Political Structure of the Northern Kingdoms.”

Partner, her mind echoed back, faint but clear. The First War was over. The God-Shell lay in ruins. But as the skiff cut through the gray water, heading toward the open sea, Tristan knew the truth. They had broken the Emperor's toy. Now, they had to break the Emperor. And for the first time in his life, Tristan wasn't fighting to survive. He was fighting to win. End of Chapter 30 End of Arc 1