Isabella Frost 소설 & 이야기

" I fully understood the situation now—I was an outlet for Frank's pent-up lust and Isabella's anger. Frank wasn't the light of my world. He didn't even think of me as a human, but a plaything caught in his and Isabella's twisted relationship. He was the devil's right-hand man, an illusion of heaven. He tricked me into falling for him, then tainted my body and humiliated my soul! "Once that old fart returns, I'll kill him in his sleep if you want," Isabella offered. Frank cupped Isabella's face, nuzzling her face with his nose. "Let's wait a little longer. He did raise me, after all." "At least prove to me, then, that I can still turn you on," Isabella purred.

She knew Elara wasn't waking up “Someone did this,” Isabella cried, “Lucas, someone did this.” “Arg!” A scream tore through the room and Isabella raised her head to find yesterday's maid. “No. Miss Elara! Boss!” The maid shook Elara's dead body before her eyes turned venomous. “You…” she gasped and turned to Isabella, “you did this! You did this. You killed her. You murdered her! You murderer!” Isabella's mouth went agape, her eyes wide open in horror. “What…”

We’ll have to take a look after, and see where we can do better defense wise. Isabella is riding on Fenris’s back, using her powers and her connection with the pack lands to take down enemy wolves everywhere. If I thought she was scary before, it is nothing compared to now. After she has been bound to the pack and land through marriage with me and the Luna position through my mother, she has a way better understanding of the layout and where to strike. She keeps communicating with those who are not wolves, using mind-link with everyone who is shifted, and translating to the vampires and witches with us. She divided our ranked troops like a pro, and I would never dream of overruling her when

Her eyes turned red. Her mother passed away before she could even remember, and Ruth raised her. Ruth was a maid brought by Isabella's mother from her own family. She treated Isabella like her own child, caring for her and loving her. Even most of her medical skills were taught by Ruth. Seeing Isabella's sad expression, Frank couldn't help but approach and console her, "Ms. Watson, Mr. Watson will be back in a few days." "Okay." Isabella's tone was neither cold nor warm.

The second his fingers brushed the thin fabric of her underwear, she froze, and everything changed. "No… no, no, no," Isabella whispered, her voice quivering as her hands pressed against his chest, trying to push him away. She was trembling, her breaths coming in shallow gasps, and Logan could feel the shift in the air. The panic rising in her like a wave.

I felt a surge of anger towards my father, but I knew I had to stay calm. "Father, that's not necessary," I said, trying to intervene. But Francisco wasn't finished. He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Isabella's stricken face. "You're just a temporary distraction, Isabella," he said, his voice cold. "A fleeting pleasure. Fernanda is the one who's meant to be by Gabriel's side, and she'll stop at nothing to claim what's hers." Isabella's eyes flashed with disbelief, but she stood tall, despite the hurt and shock that was evident on her face.

Its face was blank—no eyes, no mouth, just the suggestion of features carved from charred bone. “You summoned me,” it spoke through Isabella’s voice. “You cracked the seal.” Arthur’s heart pounded. “What are you?” “I am what your Church buried. What your bloodline abandoned. I am memory and consequence.” Isabella’s body arched as the being channeled through her. “They called me ‘Vestige.’ I am the remnant of divine fire twisted by mortal hands. And now, I demand reckoning.” Arthur struggled to his feet. “If it’s punishment you seek, take it from those who deserve it. Isabella is innocent.”

I didn’t miss the way his eyes were on me for a moment too long, as if assessing me, as if he knew exactly what was going on inside my head. Isabel stepped forward, and the room seemed to fall silent for a moment. She flashed a smile that was all teeth, her eyes glinting with a knowing look. "I’m Isabel Ortega," she said, her voice was practically dripping with charm. "But most people call me Electra."

The weight of everything, of the Mafia, of my pack—it was crushing me. I stiffened. I felt her presence before I heard her. "You're avoiding me," Isabella’s voice was quiet, but accusing. I turned slightly. She stood in the doorway, wrapped in a jacket, her hair still slightly damp from a shower. Her face was unreadable, but I could see the emotions beneath the facade she decided to put up. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You should be resting." She scoffed. "You think I can sleep after everything that’s Happened? After bringing me here and then disappearing? I've been bored every damn day and I have basically nothing to do…"

Isabel without a second thought threw her victims across the room and within the blink of an eye, her canines were buried deep in Dylan’s neck, marking her imprint on him. Dylan, consumed with immense pain, grabbed onto Isabel’s leather jacket tightly, to prevent his legs from giving out. Just when he thought the torture wouldn’t end, her canines were replaced with her tongue delicately wiping off the blood from his skin. There was a glint of pride in her yellow orbs as she stared at her flawless imprint. “Mine” she declared in her alpha voice and vanished in a flash. The crowd stared at the spot where Isabel was previously standing in sheer horror. They’ve never seen anything like this befo