Novelas y relatos de Lucia Noceda

The next morning in Italvia. Lucia had just woken up when Francesca walked in, face tight. Lucia glanced up. "Mom? What's wrong?" Francesca paused, voice low. "Message from Jared. From Khelmark." Lucia—now Lucia Loredan—froze. Then flatly: "I don't want to hear it." Francesca's eyes narrowed. "You sure?" At first, Francesca had been ready to shut it down. Anything from Jared? Not worth it.

He took a slow sip. “Lucia Rossi, the fifth son, had a wife named Elora. She was barren, unable to give him an heir. Lucia sought comfort with a maid named Hannah. She gave him a son, Maxillo, and later, a daughter, Alessia. Lucia cherished those children, but Elora... Elora fed on envy.” I felt my jaw tighten. “I first met Alessia when she was five,” Noah continued, his voice dropping an octave.

Glass doors let in the soft light from the rainy morning, a few people sat quietly on couches, some reading, others staring at nothing. A nurse moved between them, checking notes. And there she was. Lucia. She sat in a corner armchair, wrapped in a cream blanket. Her hair was thinner than in the photos, her skin pale, lips dry. But her face was the same. Still beautiful, still delicate, still broken. Leonardo stepped inside. Lucia looked up slowly when she heard the door open, her eyes met his and for a second, they didn’t move. She blinked once, then again.

The butler looked at her and then bowed a little, “I was instructed not to let anyone know his condition— but I am really concerned about him now that he had heard that Lady Charlene is declared as the Fated Luna of the Lycans…” “What?” “Pardon? Lady Charlene has been declared as the Fated Luna of the Lycans by the Lycan King and the Saint themselves,” the butler elaborated. This has been the talk since the morning and when it reached Weiss’s ears— he looked as if the world was going to end. “Let me see him,” Ignes firmly requested… she was really concerned.

“She knew about me… all along?” Lucia nodded. “She didn’t want to scare you. Or worse, put you in danger. So she watched. And waited.” “Where is she now?” Nathaniel asked again, voice firmer. “She’s in Prague,” Lucia said. “But… she left a message for Grace.” From a drawer, Lucia pulled out a USB drive. Grace took it like it was made of glass. The Message Back at their hotel suite, Grace inserted the drive into her laptop. A video file opened.

Luciana De_Luca She walked out of school alone her friends were doing some after school activities she had no interest in. The stretch limo drove past, he looked out the window at the dark haired beauty he had to get to know her. He had a three day holiday and tomorrow he would return and make himself known to her. He’d lived with his father since he was four he had no idea who his mother was. Nicolo had hardly spoke about her he said he had to wait until he was old enough to understand and that would be any day soon he was turning sixteen in a month.

“How…” Nyla picked up her phone from a nearby stand, tapped a few times, and turned it toward Lucia. On the screen…Lucia saw herself. Pressed against Draco in the room. Moaning against his neck. Begging him to take her harder. Manipulating. Scheming. And all of it recorded in clear, damning clarity. Lucia’s face was now completely drained of color. Nyla tapped the screen casually. “Your maid was quite a good camerawoman,” she said. “Very loyal to me. Isn’t it funny how you thought she served you?”

His face is blurry to me. His voice is muffled. I inhale as my eyes shut. Now too heavy to open. But a scent fills my nostrils, a family scent. I cling to it as I truly fall into oblivion. ---- Andrea Something soft is touching my face. Patting my cheek delicately. Andrea. Open your eyes. I don't want to though. I'm warm, comfortable. The softness continues to caress my face. Leaving tingles trailing it as it moves.

Lydia said. He turned instantly, a flash of relief crossing his face. “Lydia.” She stepped beside him and slid her hand into the crook of his arm. “Sorry I’m late. I didn’t want to keep my Alpha waiting.” Nina’s smile faltered. “And you are?” “I’m Lydia,” she said sweetly. “Knox’s mate. His Luna. I think you’ve heard of me—or is something else the matter?” There was a pause—thick, uncomfortable silence as the word Luna settled into the space between them.

The mark on my shoulder pulsed under moonlight. Not pain, something worse. It whispered my name in a tongue I’d never learned. “Do you hear it too?” Dax asked, voice shaking. I nodded. The Moon wasn’t speaking to me anymore. It was commanding me. Lira entered the war chamber in crimson, not mourning. “The Luna throne sits empty,” she purred. “And the Alpha hesitates. Perhaps I should rule.” The elders didn’t laugh. They listened. She smiled at Vaeron, then looked at me. This wasn’t politics.