Loren Hale 소설 & 이야기

I wanted to tell her that even if this woman was beautiful, her beauty was nothing compared to hers. "I apologize for being late, I just came from a charity event," she said as she sat down beside Atticus. She must be the Luna. "I'm Nicole Hutton," she introduced herself, "First Lady of Hutton Empire." "It's a pleasure to meet you." Rayne smiled at her. "Forgive my question, but you're not a vampire, am I right?" Nicole asked Rayne. "No, I'm not. I'm a gifted human," Rayne answered her.

"Because dead secrets are reliable." Ria laughed softly. "Oh, don't scare her, we're not killing you." "At least not tonight." She crouched in front of me, her smile still intact. "We're simply going to help Alpha Oliver realize what kind of woman you truly are." My vision blurred even further by every passing second, the room spun. I could no longer keep my eyes focused. Cole's face became little more than a shadow. "You've become a very inconvenient problem, Lilith." He adjusted his grip beneath my shoulders.

Introducing... Book two in the Alpha Loren series: The Magic of Hecate Three years later, Ella is twenty years old and the mother of six young children. Alpha Loren is still the leader of the most powerful pack in the world, and he and his Luna are in as much love as ever. Everything is perfect, right? Wrong. When a member of the pack begins to run rogue, unable to control her unheard of mystical power, the Luna embarks on an adventurous quest, enlisting the help of an unexpected old friend.

Chander's sudden interruption brought her back. "Miss Hila, let me help you take care of the other eleven." She didn't feel light headed or drunk anymore. "Why would you help me? You are in no position to gain anything from their deaths and if you are, just shut it and consider yourself lucky that your competition just got lower." She took off the robe and was left covered by a tiny sleeveless navy blue dress that barely covered even half her thighs. The pair of linen dolphin shorts of the same color loosely swayed as she moved towards him.

“Hale didn't meet me for days, then I heard the news about his death.” “My only friend was gone.” Tears fill his eyes. “I just wanted to confirm that you're really his elder sister, and that's why I sent you to that haunted building.” “You see…I have been investigating Hale's death on my own. The portrait you found was left by me in the art room.” “That shadow was you?” He nods in response. “The girl Hale loves is Lozark Aylestone's illegitimate daughter, Fera.” My heart drops to my stomach. “After Hale's death, she never set foot outside her mansion. She definitely knows something about Hale's death.”

The woman smiled, then froze, eyes widening like she’d seen a ghost. Lena knew that look. Everyone had it the moment they saw Amara. She had it the moment she saw Amara. It was impossible not to recognize Damon Hale — standing near the back of the store, arms tucked casually into his pockets as he spoke with Ellen Wintour. The Ellen Wintour. Even from across the room, he looked composed in his white shirt unbuttoned just enough, the morning light catching in his hair. And there was something he was doing with his face while they talked. Something that resembled a smile.

He looked like a storm trying not to destroy everything around it. And then I walked into the lion’s den. Bright lights burned against my skin as I sat opposite the host, Vanessa Reeve — a woman whose smile could slice glass. Her crimson dress glimmered beneath the lights, and her perfume, sharp and floral, clawed at my throat. “Welcome, everyone,” she began, her voice dripping with polished confidence. “Today, we have with us the woman the world cannot stop talking about — Maya Hale. The human at the center of the most controversial love story of the decade.”

I lifted my gaze, steadying myself. “Hello,” I began, my tone smooth and controlled. “I appreciate the introduction.” I paused as I forced a smile. “I’m not here to disrupt what already exists… but to understand it.” Subtle murmurs rippled through the crowd. “My name is Liora Hale,” I continued evenly, “and for as long as I stand in this circle, I intend to act accordingly… with clarity, not disruption.” For a second, there was silence… then Derek began clapping, and others followed.

I had papers, important papers, my mind how ever, was stuck in a dangerous, distracting loop. The air shifted, subtle yet undeniable, the way it does when a scent you’ve been denying finally cuts through the static. There she was— halfway down the hall, a small, dark figure in simple gray, moving with that familiar, nervous purpose. Aria Hale. Lyra’s mother. The omega with the haunted eyes. My body reacted before I could even think. The papers dropped from my hand—a loud, useless thud—as I was focused entirely on her. Why was she here, in the heart of the Main Lodge, so early?