Novel & Cerita Kisah Ayla

It's been three days since I met Him, Eros. His name is new to me and his face. Most of the people at that bar knew me or I knew them. But he's different, I don't know him, He don't know me. I looked at my cellphone when it rang, I smiled when I sew the name of the caller. "Yes, Manang?" I asked her when I answer the call "What time are you coming home, Ayla?" Manang is already old. Senior citizen. She must have retired because she is already too old to work, but she doesn’t want too. She said she doesn’t have a family to be with. She's 75 y/o.

AYLA "Goddess, please help me," Ayla whispered breathlessly, her voice was trembling. It wasn't from pain, not at all. Her heart was pounding so fast, her body trembling with waves of something she couldn’t understand. It felt too good. Too much. Her body arched, and in her dream, she was trapped beneath the King’s powerful body as he moved inside her over and over again. Her legs were pinned up to her chest, his deep thrusts sending her into another world.

Ever since we had found out Alister had used a spell to make my mum believe he was her mate, he hadn’t uttered a word to her, but I could see the longing in his eyes every time he would see her; it was how I imagined I looked when I gazed at Ayla. “Let’s get you back home.” I take Ayla’s hand and lead her back to Micha's car. I don’t want to be traipsing her through the forest; even though Runduc hasn’t shown himself, I can feel him watching us; he was waiting in the forest to take Ayla after Alister ambushed us. I open the front passenger door and close it behind her. As I turn, Micha tosses me the keys; I catch them and jog around the front and climb in beside her. She turns to look at me,

Killian didn't say anything, he just reached for a glass of water and took a sip. “Surely you have someone you hate so much you could just wish they were dead…" ‘Kallum,’ his wolf whispered. “Elara is that person" Isabella looked up at him. “Maybe after the interview we can search for Aya" Killian's expression shifted. “It's Ayla" “Right," she shifted on her seat "Ayla”

’ Ayla thought. Left with no choice, Ayla ate while she told Milton about her books and her small garden. She told him how her mother and grandmother started teaching her about plants and herbs. Ayla’s mother, Queen Lavia, died when Ayla was nine years old, a month after the war began, while her grandmother died the following year, leaving her alone with her father and brother. When Ayla finished eating, she felt stronger. She wiggled her fingers, and joy filled her heart when she saw that the trembling had stopped. With each passing minute, Ayla felt better.

she said cautiously, biting her lower lip. The room went silent again, save for the subtle sounds of cutlery against porcelain. Ava began to elaborate, her voice barely above a whisper. "You see, they said they were leaving me so that I could have a better life. But let me tell you, life alone in a foreign country from thirteen to nineteen is far from a walk in the park." Peyton glanced at Carver, his eyes reflecting a mixture of shock and compassion. His was at a loss for words, the gravity of Ava's disclosure rendering him temporarily mute. "I can't even begin to imagine what that was like," he finally managed to say.

And already her breath caught in her throat. Several scars could be seen spiraling the tops of Ayla’s feet, almost like it was some sort of nightmarish tattoo. The spirals and lines disappeared up her leg, and Maize knew that she would never be able to stop herself from investigating further. Even if they brought nightmares and horror, exactly like they did with Rosie, she still needed to know. Taking one last deep breath, Maize steeled herself before pushing up the pajama legs. “I-I’m s-sorry,” Ayla said weakly, tears filling her eyes as she looked up, seeing the revulsion on Maize's face.

“Let me stitch it. You’re not going to make it another hour like that.” “Why do you care?” “Because I know what they did to you,” he said. My throat tightened. “You don’t know me,” I said. He stepped forward again—slowly, calmly, deliberately defying me. His voice dropped, and with it came something else—a pull, not bond, recognition. “I know your name is Ayla Riverwind. You were the healer in Northmoon Pack. You were bonded, rejected, and scent-stolen.” “How the hell do you—”

As if to remind her she should think too much about someone who was not meant for her, Ayla’s unseen mark started burning again. When she went back to her bedroom and tried to rest her mind and body for the mission ahead, one persistent thought was echoing in her head: liking someone was both fortune and misfortune, but it would have been better to be born just like a normal human. Then, she’d be able to live disregarding the dangers of wanting someone that was forbidden to her. *** Ayla was enduring, until the day she couldn’t endure anymore. It happened when she was just coming back from another mission in the human world, where she and her partner had arrived too late and encountered some