Jason Wilson Books Novels & Stories

I won’t let anyone force me into doing what I didn’t want to do, as Gilda had said herself. “Okay,” I steadied my voice, willing myself not to give anything away to him. “So what about the book?” I mentioned, gauging Jason’s reaction. His expression was blank, but I could see how his hands tightened around the silk fabric of his tie, how his muscles grew taut in his already tight dress shirt and the little tick in his jaw. Anyone could have easily missed all these signs, but I have studied Jason to a point that I could easily tell whatever expression he had on without even trying too hard. “When am I going to see the contents of the book? When are you going to open it?”

She nodded and went to the till. Jason picked out a few books he thought Maya would enjoy if she hadn't read them. By the time he finished, he had around seventy books and two full baskets. "Will that be all, Mr King?" Amari asked politely. "Yes, thank you." He said and paid for the books. Jason put the bags of books in his car and drove to the restaurant. When he got there, he saw Liam and Skyler already eating. He didn't blame them. He made an unexpected stop on the way there.

Selina Maya Hayes, my pride and delight daughter, is the subject of this book. *** Creak. “It's been a long time since I've visited this location. Now that Selina is away on a mission, I'm feeling a little lonely. There's just a year until she returns, and those administrators hags are giving me a hard time.” Jason, mumble. Below the window, Jason approaches an old functional desk. He grabs a book from his suit once he is confident, he is in a comfortable position. Jason begins to become absorbed in the book's writing.

Even the oppressive aura around him, an alpha of the pack, was too intense for an omega like him. “Details?” Wilson slipped his hand to his pocket. He was standing tall in front of his study table, surrounded by the walls which were painted old brown giving off a wooden smell, a roof to floor dark brown bookcase, and the same length mirror standing right beside it’s, the overall room gave the sense of something mysterious and powerful. “It’s on your table, sire.” Jason bowed once as he said this. Wilson rounded the driftwood charcoal desk and reached out for the black file kept on the other end of the desk.

There was no place for tears here. What I needed was an explanation. “Save your tears Lucinda, and tell us why you have chosen to let this man into our home! You better start taking unless you want to rot in jail for the rest of your life. And believe me when I say I can make that happen.” Jason bellowed. His voice hard. It was safe to say that I hadn’t heard him this angry before, except the time with Colton. But this? This was different because I could see the vines in his neck pop.”

He tried turning back but Wilkes stopped him immediately. “That dude from the room opposite ours. He's stalking us.” Instinctively, Harold turned back to look at him but regretted it immediately. In the room, he hadn't been able to see Wade's face as clearly as he did now. Wade's lips were burnt with excessive smoking, his eyes were yellowish like someone that had a severe case of Apollo, his veins ran along his face like the wires of a faulty machine and generally, he looked… dangerous. “Idiot!” Wilkes said to Harold. “You shouldn't have looked back. Now he most likely knows that we know he is stalking us.”

I was the woman who had raised a genius without his help. When the dessert plates were cleared, Jason wiped his mouth with a linen napkin and placed it on the table. The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The air grew heavy, charged with the static of unspoken truths. He leaned forward, his expression hardening. "Freddo," Jason said, his voice soft but commanding. Freddo looked up from his empty plate. "Yes, sir?" "You are a very smart young man. I have a library in the next room. It has first editions of Darwin. Would you like to go see them?"

His eyes glowed red too, and he spat blood as he tried to stand up, his body still trembling with fury. But his body was already broken, and his movements became sluggish. He wasn’t fast enough. "Jett, no, please no, you're going to kill—" Emilia was still screaming when Jettison lunged at the struggling Jason. His claws slashed across his chest, and blood poured out in a thick crimson wave from it. Jason’s screams filled the whole room, tearing through the hall. and the sight made several wolves cry out in terror, covering their mouths. He tried to fight back, claws enacting fangs elongating, but Jettison didn't give him the chance to, as he swiftly dug his claws into another part of his bo

They continued wriggling their way through the dusty shelves then at last, Trisha stopped in front of a shelf, stood upright; to her full height—Wilkes and Harold doing the same, too, and pulled out a book that looked like it'll powderize at the slightest touch. With her middle finger, she deftly picked the book from the nine others arranged in the same row and with the two still accompanying her like bodyguards, they moved to the nearest reading table and sat on the rickety chairs. FRANCIS’ JOURNAL, 1993. “Any idea what the page means?” Wilkes texted Trisha and Harold on his phone before Trisha flipped open another page of the dry, brittle journal. “None,” Harold replied. “I think that's t

Jason follows closely behind, his concern etched into the furrowed lines of his brow… his expression a mix of concern and confusion, his loyalty to Wilson unquestionable but his understanding of the situation limited. “Wilson, what the hell happened?” Jason’s voice is steady, but the underlying tension is palpable—there is an undercurrent of alarm. He knows something is seriously wrong, and the air is thick with the scent of impending violence… he knows his Alpha too well, knows the tempest that brews within him is one not easily quelled.