Kit Snicket Count Olaf Novels & Stories

The knights scattered around to scout the area while Ryan and Garelt stayed with the Alpha, Luna and Noah, they were ready to step in if Ophelia ever needed them. Ophelia held back her breath and squat down next to where she thought was the head. It was hard to tell underneath all the snow. She held out a shaky hand, dusting away the snow enough for her to make out the features. Her heart tightened at the unfamiliar face before her, she clenched her fists. The coldness preserved the bodies too well. It was hard to believe that this unknown boy was never going to witness the warmth of the summer. Ophelia hated herself for feeling relieved that she didn’t recognize the boy, he still belonged t

The protocol wasn’t happening because the first person I spotted was our five-year-old nephew, Alton, with a mop of dark blonde hair as he raced to be the first one out. It was quickly apparent why he was the first off as I noticed he had a Barbie head in one hand and its body in the other. My assumption he had taken that from Keeley was confirmed as the pigtailed nine-year-old miniature of Edith ran after him, shouting threats of death. “GET BACK HERE YOU SNOT NOSED IMP!” Keeley shouted, fist in the air. “Save me, Onkel Gunnar!” Alton squealed as he tried to climb me like a damn tree.

He clears his throat lightly before answering, “That would be Nikolai Shantel.” The name means nothing to me. I frown a little. “Who is that?” Clinton gestures to one of the staff nearby and says, “Call him over.” I watch as the boy is called, my jaw tightening slightly without me meaning to. Something already feels off, like I know I am not going to get the answer I want. A few seconds later, the omega walks over. And immediately, my stomach turns. Even with how controlled he is, that dominant omega presence is still there, and my body reacts before my mind can even process it.