It's Been 84 Years Novels & Stories

Nate said, and I know what he was trying to say. "Crazy love, I guess. It's been 28 years of waiting. I was two years old then, and I am thirty now. I'm old enough to realize that what we were doing before was just insane.. waiting for someone who doesn't know her way back home?.. that's bullshit!" I grinned as I drank the wine. Nate remains silent.

“She is good. The doctor said, she would only be there for a few days for monitoring” “That's good news, I guess. She must be very strong” I nodded with a smile, “Very. With everything she has been through, she still found a way to grieve my dad” Carter looked at me, “Oh, I'm so sorry” “It's okay. I don't care about him. Really. He died eight years ago, yesterday” “Like yesterday made it an eight-year remembrance?” he asked. “Yes” “Same as Catilyn. My sister”

"And the rebuild of the fourteenth site begins in August." "August," I said. "The foundation has been waiting two hundred years," he said. "It can wait until August." He paused. "Not longer." I laughed. A real one. Easy and unmanaged. "No," I said. "Not longer." We ended the call. I sat in the center of the hall. My grandmother had walked out of the council chamber two hundred years after someone had voted against the archiving in the same chamber and had said the day will come. Twelve to zero.

"That is a long story and not the one I'm calling about." "Where are you." "St. Petersburg. I have been here for twenty years." Her voice was precise. The voice of a woman who had been sharp her whole life and age had not touched that part. "I watched the news today. I read the piece your journalist wrote." A breath. "I am eighty-one years old and I have been holding something for forty years and I think it is time I stopped holding it." I looked at the curtain. "What did Aleksei get wrong," I said.

8 years later It has been eight years since the incident, Evelyn was now the trash of the pack, she has fallen so low. The scar is now the biggest part of her personality. Evelyn is now 26 years old and has no mate, that's to say her mate didn't appear before her and that was her only chance of healing. They said if her mate is a strong Alpha she will be healed, but unfortunately for her, she had no mate. People started to say that maybe the scar scared the mate off. Her brother hardly looks at her, only her parents still have unconditional love. Funny even in all this mess, Evelyn missed Blake, she wants him every day, she wakes up every day hoping it would be the day she will see him. It s

he responded. "Good. Because that scared me," Tracy said softly. "It did? So you care that much about me?" He asked. "Of course I do. Who is going to make me feel special and book a whole restaurant for my sake when you go? So you see? No matter how twisted it may sound, you don't have the right to die. At least not in the next eight years," Tracy said. "Eighty years? But that's far away. I'm thirty-two years old now, so the next eighty years makes it one hundred and two years, that is if I'm alive to see that day," Henry said.

Eight Years Later Nikki and I have served this pack for 29 years and time has been good to us all. I can’t say that I would ever wish to have a rogue attack, but the one on the night of the blood moon all those years ago pointed me straight into the arms of my Little Bee. We went through hell and back to be together but I believe that made us stronger.

"Don't tell me you're running from the truth now." "I figured you deserve to know, after all that's going to be happening tonight." He said, buttoning his shirt back up. I frowned, puzzled by his words. "It's been over eight years since I got this and it still isn't completely healed up." Eight years? It happened that long ago? Until now, I was never really curious about Dante's age. I had always known he was older than I am but I never really thought about how much. There was a look in his eyes like he was reliving the whole experience over again. It piqued my interest, made me want to know more.

If it meant she lived to see six, seven, eighty years old, I'd do whatever it took. "Four years," I whispered. "Four years," Dante agreed. The countdown had begun.

Her memory stays alive for every generation that follows. Forty years. And counting. Forever and always. Loving her. Honoring her. Staying there was her request. That reason keeps me going. THE END