Laila Kroshka Novels & Stories

"don't touch." He took his hand back, worry written all over his face. "I'll make them save you, Blair." "Blair is gone, Blair is gone, no more Blair." Jack sat there thinking for a second, staring deep into my eyes, searching for answers to help them. "Luna Wicken, you are strong stronger than any other magical creature. The stroys tell the tale of how you are worshipped and feared by all. Make those stroys true and fight" he put his hand on my knee.

It seemed like something in fantasy movies. “Welcome to the Darkmoon’s couture,” Rune said. “We don't have a lot of time on our hands so I'll skip the formalities…” he looked like he was going to burst, “Okay just a few,” “There's Laila,” he said pointing to a young girl, about the age of seven to ten who was cutting out a piece of fabric. “Don't let her looks fool you, she's twenty-five” “Oh!” I exclaimed, taken aback, “hi Laila”

Laila had applied her makeup as naturally as possible. Zayn sighs, ecstatic, as he brushes his lips against hers and opens his mouth, savoring the delicious taste of dates and honey. “Ah, habib...” Laila stops when she hears the boss’s moan, her eyes widen, she tries to turn around, but trips on the floor and falls. “Ouch, how embarrassing! I can’t do anything right.” Laila quickly gets up and the boss looks at her, confused. “I’m fine, sir. I’m great, thank you. Thank you! I came to let you know that dinner is ready,” she says, clearing her throat out of embarrassment.

she suggested and Lyla frowned but thinking about it her frown turned into a smile. "Great, I have a plan," Lyla said excitedly. "Good, let me know where you need my help," Rosy said and Lyla leaned in and whispered her plan into Rosy's ears. "That would work, but be careful you are not caught. It won't end well for you," Rosy warned. "Okay let me have the document," she requested and Lyla gave the document to her. "How did you get this," Rosy inquired checking the documents to ensure they were not fake.

She looked at Jamira. “This is my daughter Layla, right?” Jamira looked seriously, and said yes. Lucifer got up from his seat, and walked to the woman. “Lilith, she’s been in the human world all this time. She probably doesn't know that she can breathe or not breathe and be fine.” He wrapped his arms around her, putting one hand right above her breast. He kissed her with a passion I had no clue could exist.

Rocco. I sat flat on the hard wooden table, my back pressed against the brick wall. My boot was off. My left ankle was twice its normal size, the skin stretched tight and turning into deep, ugly purple. It throbbed with every single beat of my heart. In the corner, Laila was moving around fast. She clinked glass bottles together. She was mixing things, her fingers covered in white powder as she stirred a small bowl. I knew she was getting the herbs ready to jump-start my healing.

Their eyes was scanning furiously at the crowd. "Where is she?" Maltida muttered biting more of her finger. She was wearing a big top and a normal trouser. "Oh Gosh, I can't wait to see how she looks. It's been two years" Laila, traditional India girl with her hair covered with a beautiful fabric. "I know right?" Matilda muttered. "By the way stop bitting your fingers" Laila scolded. "I can't help it"

Alleki finished his speech, giving everyone the best of luck and divine intervention from the Water Goddess. The first round of the final battle went smoothly, Malaika faced a fellow female warrior, and it was an easy win for her. Fortunately, her opponent was not royalty. She could only shapeshift into a boar. This was not that useful in a battle, she could easily dodge her attacks, and she finished the fight with her signature move of gliding on the ground to slit her opponent’s throat. The shifter raised her hand to surrender when she saw how to determine Malaika was.

The entrance burst open, three rogues snarled as they entered, their eyes wild, feral. Screams rang out. One man in crutches told the Luna to take everyone inside. I turned to see Calista press a button on the wall, and a part of it opened. It was a hidden door in the hall revealing a secret room. She started telling the women to carry the children and go inside.

They were no longer looking at the doors with fear; their eyes were fixed on the two empty wooden thrones at the head of the room with a solemn, patient expectation. Laila stood on the western balcony of her private quarters, watching the first rays of the morning sun catch the jagged peaks of the northern ridge. She wore a simple gown of heavy dark blue wool, the long sleeves covering the faint, silvery patterns of her burn scars that were already fading into smooth skin under the persistent warmth of her healing factor.