Lawlight Lemon Novels & Stories

At midnight, Killian would be staring blankly back at me if we were to discuss this. His blond head shakes. Dan, it wasn't delivered with it. But there are plenty of lemons here. "Kil, lemons are not limes." His lips smudge. And if Grady overhears you trying to tell me that they are, you will be the next thing he squeezes. Killian quickly closes his mouth. We both turn to look at Grady, the master mixologist, as he serves us two Long Island Iced Teas. The pub feels less like a club filled with dancers doing shots than it will in a few hours since the strobe lights over the vacant dancefloor have not yet turned on.

"There are no what-ifs. Just like the stars… Once they choose their path, their orbits are set. They'll never cross paths again." Lucas stared at me in stunned silence. Pain and regret welled in his eyes as a faint glint of tears formed in the corners. But in the end, he said nothing. I quietly closed the box. Then, I turned and walked away. … After returning to our home country, Lucas was convicted of intentional assault and sentenced. All the stars he had once named were revoked from official records, except one. It was the star he named "LAW" the year he proposed.

She could not shake the sense that whatever words lay inside were not meant to bring her peace, but to unmake her. Elsewhere, within the quiet walls of the Sunlit stronghold, Liam sat alone in his chamber. The fire before him was little more than embers now, glowing faintly against the dark. He cradled a cup of wine untouched, his thoughts drifting further back than he had allowed them in years.

I said in a long litany while holding the debatable series light I had bought earlier. I immediately turned it on and circled it around its tombstone. I also reached for my guitar and immediately took it out of the box and immediately started playing its tune. “We were supposed to be singing inside of our dim light small house. We are happy and goofing together with our small house with just us two,” strumming while saying those words makes my heart missed him more. The whole place started to get darker and my series light was the only light I had and his gravestone.

He let me help. The wound was worse than it had looked on the roadside — the shoulder joint itself intact, thankfully, but the ribs beneath it fractured in at least two places, the muscle torn deep enough that a lesser stitch job would have left him with permanent weakness on that side for the rest of his life. I worked with the same focus I'd once brought to a compound simmering on the edge of instability, cleaning debris from the wound with slow, careful passes, packing it with a paste I mixed myself from dried moongrass and three other herbs from memory, because Moonlight's dispensary carried the raw ingredients but not the specific combination I trusted, and I wasn't about to trust anyth

"Sure! You'll need two-thousand points for the Fairy Fruit and any herbs that contain light energy will require three-thousand points. Which one do you need first? I'll get my men to start looking," Alfred agreed to the request right away. "I need both, especially herbs that contain light energy. The more the better!" Leon said with a smile. "The more the better? Do you have that many contribution points?" Alfred questions in confusion. "Not yet, but I can kill other criminals if I run into them. That way, I'll have more contribution points!" Leon said.

The assistant glanced back just as the car drove into a tunnel. The man's face was hidden in the shadows, making it hard to see clearly. All she could make out was his hands resting on his knees. He casually flicked a lighter on and off. The lighter was plain silver-white, with no fancy patterns or brand names. It was just a simple, old-school flip lighter. The only thing that stood out was the orange gem at the bottom. It shone like the last glow of a sunset.

They all say. I look at Lewa. “Do you want it in a color?” She jerks, looking even more excited than before, if that’s possible. “Pink!” She says and I swear she’s actually bouncing in the air with excitement. I add pink to the light and hand it to her. “I want yellow!” “Blue for me!” “Can I get purple?” I make each of them their own light with the color they requested then watch as they stare at them, enraptured.

The golden light in my eyes flickered and died, leaving me in a darkness that smelled of lavender and old ink. Through the link, I felt the exact second Leo stepped out into the acid.

The restaurant would do anything for a VVIP member like Clay. "Here, finish this." Clay pushed a warm lemon drink toward Wolf. Lemon water is known to be effective against hangovers. "And please take off your sunglasses; we're inside now," Clay requested. "Nope. My eyes hurt, and it's too bright outside." Wolf squinted while slowly sipping the drink in front of him. His hangover was severe, and his eyes were sensitive to light. They were sitting near a large glass wall that welcomed as much bright sunlight as possible.