Iron Widow Audiobook Novels & Stories

Yet, despite the overwhelming opposition from the Kingston family, she remained firm—she wanted Lucas to marry me. One afternoon, during the wedding preparations, Lucas took Grandma Eve and me for a stroll in the park. As we reached a slope, she scribbled a note, saying she was thirsty. Lucas hurried off to buy water, leaving me to watch over her. Then, suddenly, her entire body tensed. Her eyes locked onto something in the distance, filled with urgent recognition as if she had just seen a ghost from her past. Alarmed, I gripped her wheelchair and scanned the surroundings. But there was no one.

"The security droids are idling. The loop is holding, but the core processor is starting to purge the memory. You have three minutes before the house wakes up." "I don't need three minutes," Dante replied. I heard the muffled thud of a flash-bang from the floor above, followed by the rhythmic, clinical pop-pop of his suppressed .45s. He wasn't auditing; he was clearing the ledger. I reached the server vault a chamber of pulsing crimson light that looked like the interior of a heart. And there, sitting in a high-backed chair of spun glass, was the discrepancy I had been hunting. The Widow. She didn't look like a ghost. She looked like a queen in exile. Her hair was a shock of silver, pulled b

She could feel the worms wriggling in her heart, the squirming of the worms made her stomach queasy. However, her attention was suddenly diverted as a gust of cold wind swept across her face, and blew her long hair. The gust of wind carried voices whispering in her ear, not the whispers of the surrounding leaves, but other whispers that she could understand. Leah looked left and right, it seemed that no one felt the gust of wind and whispers except for her. Even Mia and Grace who were standing so close to her didn't feel what she felt. The whisper called her name, she was sure. Not the sound of the wind, or the voices in her head, someone called her name

The men’s voices sounded far away, like they were underwater. The last thing I saw was the sky spinning. Then everything went black. *** When I woke up again, my wrists hurts badly. They were tied behind me. My legs too. The room was small. There was a tiny window high up that I couldn't reach. It was evening. I tried to move and the rope scraped my skin. I remembered everything at once. The dead troop. The red light. Choosing to swallow it. I started crying quietly. Not loud. Just tears falling without stopping.

I knew that the wolves were out there in the dark, teeth bared and ready for a bloodbath, and the man I loved was riding straight into the center of the teeth. I closed my eyes tightly against the shadows, pressing my face deep into his pillow to breathe in his comforting scent of cedar wood and dark leather one last time before the storm broke. I was the old lady of the Iron Reapers President, and as the distant, faint sound of a single motorcycle engine began to echo from the far end of the highway road, I braced my entire soul for whatever ending was about to walk through that door.

It had anchored him in there. For the first time, Adrian looked like a man standing in front of something he couldn’t control. Like that little boy, peering into show glasses, unable to make Ice cream decisions. The burner vibrated in his hand. He stilled, so did I. Slowly, he turned the screen to himself. I waited very tense while I watched his eyes move across the screen. “What does it say?” I asked not being able to beat waiting any longer. He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes stayed on the screen. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

The sound made my stomach drop. I scrambled back until my spine hit the headboard. “Who are you?” I demanded, even though fear had already started creeping into my bones. “Why are you in my house?” One of them looked around slowly, his gaze dragging over the room before settling on me. “So you’re the widow,” he said. My throat went dry. “You need to leave this house right away.” He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Your house isn’t yours anymore.” My pulse quickened. “What do you mean? What do you want?”

Please help me, I'm begging you! I looked down, taking in his disheveled, undignified mess, and felt a surge of different emotions inside my chest. I felt some disgust, some irony, and even some pity for him. He had been so full of ambition when he first stepped into the workforce at the company. But now, he'd ended up like this. "You never should have done all those things in the first place. You knew that you'd have ended up like this," I said, trying to free my leg but failing.

“Inside. Now.” I crossed the threshold, the heavy wooden door shutting with a thunk behind me that seemed much too final. His office smelled like smoke and cedar, like a powerful wolf’s den. Not comforting—commanding. “Talk.” I told him everything. The figure. The burning eyes. The dragonsteel glaive. The way his voice had wound through the wards like poison through water. Voss said nothing through it all, but something in his bearing steeled. His fingers flexed once at his sides, like he was fighting down the urge to bare fangs.

Suddenly, I remembered the day I had lost our pup. Francesca and I had both fallen. Charalambos didn't even look at me. He scooped Francesca up and rushed her to the hospital. I was the one who bled out waiting for help. ... At night, I returned home. I headed to the bedroom to change clothes. But just as I got near the door, I heard a woman's seductive voice. "You're so bad." The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open, and the sight before me made my stomach turn.