Is Enemy At The Gates A True Story Novels & Stories

Thousands of Questions whirl in my mind as I stare at the most famous person in the werewolf community. Alejandro. No matter how much I turn the situation over in my head, it doesn't make sense. What was the enemy doing in our camp yesterday, and why did he never kill me? There was a chance he spared my life because of the mate bond, but the same couldn't be said for Dane. He was the enemy and nothing stood in the way of killing him. Hence, we are not with Dane now.

This time, the driver’s voice was quick and rash. With that, I kept my mouth shut, assuming that he didn't like questions after his last response. Instead of focusing on what happened earlier, I tried to ignore it as I watched the car drive past a tall gate. The tall gate was colored black, and some people locked it as soon as the car drove past it. But inwardly, I knew that what happened earlier was a testament to my arrival at the Crescent Moon Pack.

They were three men, dressed in suits, and they seemed nervous. “Who are you?” I asked, stepping a little closer to them. Two of my bodyguards positioned themselves behind me for protection. Safety first. The chubby man cleared his throat before speaking. “I’m Mr. Grayson’s lawyer...” he began to say. “Excuse me?” I blinked several times because this had to be a joke. My father is dead. “Mr. Andrés Grayson died ten years ago; is this some kind of joke?” I looked at them disapprovingly.

I say turning to run out the garden gate, the border guard hangs back while grabbing Martha's dad. "The Alpha wishes to see you" he growls before dragging him away from his house, this left me and Reece standing in complete chaos. The police were running around everywhere, some were even trying to help Martha's dad escape but failed dramatically. The guard would just push and the dudes would end up flying back, towns people ran of their houses and started to panic looking around.

Slowly, Anya’s fingertips left the wall until she stood up then jumped into the home. Is this...It? I already took her home, as I promise Liam--well, kind of. And should I go? Should I say ‘Toolaloo~! Farewell~!’? Or maybe just escaping is the right thing to do? I said nothing and did nothing but stare at the gates which are also weirdly crafted at first sight, but I get the gist of it now. It’s supposed to be swirly vines with thorns all around but there are longer daggers near the middle, where the lock and latches are I suppose. People think they’ve done something but this is the worst fake-deep I’ve ever seen. And this one is not even from the internet! I hope the design of this is over

Riley mumbled as he kept his eye on his surroundings. "I am not saying that we shouldn't trust him. I'm just saying that we don't know enough. We have no idea what is going on and we are acting like mindless people who just follow orders. We found out that Ryder was actually the enemy's son. We are forced to believe that he is good because he is our friend and he knows where Sam is. And lastly, we are outside an abandoned building to kill his evil twin brother who we can't even smell or see for the past 20 minutes.

Alicia Iminz, Alicia Alexander or Greyshon, the name she'd given herself the day of the final battle of Gatekeepers War. A war that she never wanted to be a part of even though she had visions of it year's before it happened. She was a piece in game of chess that could never be won, the weapon her mother and rest of the goddesses wanted but didn't truly understand or deserve. All she had always wanted was a normal life. It's why only she and her cousin knew what really happened at that final battle. If the Goddesses or Collective knew what she did God only knew what may happen. That piece of evidence would tear down the world she knew in many ways.

I reminded myself that I was doing this for Deangelo, for our love, and for our future together. Approaching the gate, my anxiety started to unravel. Sweat trickled down my back, and my palms became slick with moisture. I almost turned around and ran when the door swung open. Standing before me was a tall and imposing man, dressed sharply and wearing a cold expression. I recognized him as one of the gammas, and his piercing gaze seemed to cut through me like knives. "What do you want?" he barked. Swallowing hard, I fought to maintain my composure. I knew I had to choose my words carefully. "I'm here to see the alpha, Deangelo," I whispered, barely audible.

"Hahaha, what about it? Do you want to take revenge on me? I'm so scared!" He sarcastically said, "Listen well, I am Gaston Gates! I am the person your wife offended at the reception a few days ago! How about it, are you angry? Flipping out for your confidence! Pity you, a cuckold, worthless to carry my shoes. Forget it, I don’t want to fight with you." Turns out, that was the Sir Gaston Gates. This person was not a big shot, just a nephew of an executive in a subsidiary of Thousand Miles Conglomerate.