James Pleiades Hawkins Mga Nobela at Kwento

I sigh, running my hand through my hair. "Can I see Grayson, please?" Malik looks stunned for a moment. "Right. Ah, he's in the Vengeance Pack right now. I'll let him know you're back." Finally, I follow Malik inside, who still is asking me relentless questions about where I've been the past five days. Honestly all I want to do is collapse my weak body into a bed, but I supplied Malik with the basics of my kidnapping. I left out details of the strange Huntsman named Cal from a Pack unknown. He told me to keep a secret, and at this time, I'm not jumping on the idea of selling him out. I mean, he's proved how good he is with a bow and arrow...

I will my pulse to calm and my posture to remain straight as I push down my emotions. Be bold. Finally, James leans forward. “So, this is the princess of the Southlands.” “She—” Ethan starts to speak, but James’s gaze snaps toward him. “You’ve had your chance to speak, Brother.” His tone is harsh and gruff. I catch a huff of laughter from Blake, where he leans by the door with his arms folded across his chest. I meet James’s glare. “Yes.” “A lot of my men died because of you,” he says. “Good men.”

I questioned, and he turned his attention around, fixing his gaze on a young man engaged in conversation with his friends while they sat around a table to drink. “What’s your name!” I shouted, striding towards the young man. The music abruptly ceased, and all attention was drawn to me, but I paid no heed. As I closed in, I brought my hand down forcefully on the table, causing it to shatter, and I seized the young man by his collar. “Cornelius—my name is Cornelius,” he stammered, struggling to speak as I tightened my grip around his neck, nearly crushing it. "Alpha Hawthorne, you're killing him," Rogers interjected from behind me, the fear evident among everyone present. Yet, I remained unfaz

For the elite guard to grace their home meant something monumental was happening—whether a blessing or a curse, she didn't know. Jake stepped forward, bowing low as the commander approached. “Is that her?” the Kingsguard asked, his sharp eyes locking onto Calista. “Yes, Sir Braavos,” Jake replied eagerly. “Her name is Calista Caitlynn. Nineteen, a maiden, and a virgin. I am certain the Alpha will find her suitable.” Sir Braavos signaled his men, and a heavy iron box filled with gold coins was handed over to Jake in exchange for his daughter.