Jeremiah 1 5 Novels & Stories

Nathaniel: "You're not even half-good as my mommy's pursuers. Just give up." Jeremiah was thrown off balance. Jeremiah: "Don't worry, I won't have any sort of thoughts toward your mommy. I'm only interested in you, you little brat." Nathaniel immediately went offline.

He finally asks, after a moment’s silence. Jeremiah thins his lips as he studies my face for an awkwardly long duration before finally saying, “at the centre of all lands is an old shrine. You should go there. Anytime a member of the five packs needs his wisdom, that is where one must start the search. If he wills it, he will guide you.”

Jeremiah was getting more and more pissed off as the seconds ticked by. He knew that he couldn’t very well trust the young Alpha before him, but he hadn’t expected to be as greatly disappointed as he was. Jordan Williams had disappointed him almost as greatly as his father. “You had one job,” he said impassively. “Your Highness, I don’t know where to look for her anymore. Her scent just vanished and-” Jordan said before stopping himself. “And what?” Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. Jordan knew not to lie to him.

“I don’t want to be the reason you worry, Salome. I want to bring you peace.” I let out a soft breath I didn’t know I was holding. My legs felt weak, like they might give out if I moved too fast. My skin prickled with a sudden chill. This didn’t sound like a boss talking to an assistant. It sounded like a confession, or maybe a warning. Jeremiah exhaled slowly and looked up at the ceiling. He broke the eye contact that had been pinning me in place. “I want you to know that I will never force you to do anything,” he said to the empty air above us.

“ Jeremiah, see I’m the Alpha and you trespassed on my land. Not only that you try to kill my people. And that is something that I don’t take to kindly of, especially from some low- life rouge” “ Please Alpha, let me join your pack, I’m sorry again I did not mean to do it” Looking into Jeremiah eyes, I see myself at that age, a boy who was scare, but most of all confuse about everything. I’m thinking what should I do in this situation? This is the responsibility of being an Alpha making tough decisions along the way. “I will have to think about it Jeremiah, but for now I will get you clean up, and you will have to be in the dungeon for now”

Jeez. Shit! What on earth have I done???!!! Oh God! ******** Psalms 55:12-14 - "For it is not an enemy who reproaches me; then I could bear it. Nor is it one who hates me who has exalted himself against me; Then I could hide from him. But it was you, a man my equal, my companion and my acquaintance. We took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God in the throng."

Jeremiah. Standing over her. His expression was unreadable—something between guilt and satisfaction, something dark. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. “What did you do?” Bala whispered, her voice trembling, her breath shallow. Jeremiah didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his fingers twitching. He looked… nervous. But not enough. Not enough to be truly afraid. “I’m sorry, Bala,” he finally said, his voice so low she barely heard it. “I didn’t mean to—I just… I couldn’t help myself.”

However, the safety of Emma won out as he stopped in his tracks and sent out his senses, finding the growing anger and hatred within the town. He refocuses on the males around him and says, “We must return.” Without any more of explanation, Jeremiah turns them around and heads back to the town. As they get closer, Jeremiah stops once more, turning to the males behind him and asks, “Who are you loyal to?” They all look at him, confused. Jeremiah hisses and repeats, “Who are you loyal to?” The undeclared leader of the group, Jonathan, steps forward and says. “We are loyal to you, your Highness…”

Just once. Jeremiah was still on his knees, staring at me with eyes full of pain and something that almost looked like regret. I turned and walked away.

Jeremiah is the first to find words. “Your Majesty?” he says, keeping his voice in the shallow water between question and counsel. I listen. The echo fades, then doesn’t. It vibrates in the floorboards, in the drum of my pulse, in the stubborn part of me that refuses to be commanded by anything but duty yet still bows to this. I set my jaw, smoothing the edges of my expression back to the neutral cut they expect from a King. “Continue,” I tell the council, though I hear almost nothing of what follows as I race from the room without explanation.