Lumine X Novels & Stories

Luiz said patting some of the content of the bottle he has with him on my face. “ and then the foundation” Sera cheered “Use your brush tó evenly distribute your makeup on your beautiful face just like this” Luiz said while applying the foundation to my face. “And next is your concealer” Sera squealed handing a lipstick-like container to Luiz. “So Monna, this what you need the most on days like this, it is to be applied to cover dark circles and those bags you have there just like this,” he said applying it to my face with a brush

"Keep the perimeter tightened. If Tristan breaches it again, I want a report—and then I’ll handle the burial myself." Samuel bowed and retreated, leaving Lucien alone. His thoughts, usually as cold and calculating as a machine, drifted to the way Xender’s eyes had caught the light in the restaurant. He had designed that 'Eternity' series—a weapon disguised as a vow. It was brilliant. And Xender, in his modest, understated way, was the most lethal thing Lucien had ever encountered. The phone rang. It was Xender. Lucien answered, his voice dropping into a register that was almost a purr.

Seraphina's eyes sharpened slightly. "I'm not just developing it for profit," she said. "I want it to become a flagship project for Luminaire Crest." Lucien glanced at her again. "Mixed-use?" he guessed. She nodded. "Residential towers, commercial spaces… and a central hub that connects everything," she explained. "Something modern—but sustainable." A brief pause. "I also plan to integrate Aureline into it." Lucien raised a brow. "Aureline?" "A flagship boutique," she clarified. "Possibly an exhibit space as well. It will strengthen both brands at the same time."

Lumiére muttered under his breath, his voice filled with resignation. He took the glass that was on the bedside table and quickly drank the crimson fluid inside, closing his eyes as the liquid coursed down his throat. The effects were immediate, and he could feel his energy and power being restored to their former glory. After taking a deep sigh of relief, he climbed out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. He knew that in about fifteen minutes, Middleton would be arriving at his door, ready to assist him for the night ahead. Lumiére had a feeling that this night was going to be long, and he had to prepare himself mentally and physically for it.

He is just a man who made a mistake. But in business, Liam Cross didn't make mistakes. He made moves. "We don't fold," Aurora said, her voice ice. "And we don't look elsewhere." She walked back to the table. "We take Lumina from him." Elias’s eyebrows shot up. "Ariane... that is suicide. Cross Empire is a titan. We are... a boutique." "We are the future," she corrected. "And Lumina knows it. They are tired of Liam’s dominance. They want something new. Something... 'singular'."

The host said and I really wanted to go and smack his head for the useless things he was uttering. All I wanted for him to say is that Luna McCall is coming. Why did he add so many useless things. "Here comes our one and only Luna of the Crescent Moon Pack, the untamed Malina McCall,". He said and the guards opened the door for me, making me look at all the alphas and their Lunas with a smile on my face as I descended their stairs. As I walked down and looked at all the prestigious lycans and alphas, my eyes stopped at one particular person who wasn't moving.

She was about to leave the office when Jackson called her back, his voice low, "Any news of Lumi?" She gave it a thought, and chose to report honestly. "Our men have only found out that Miss Lumina has gone to the capital, Crown City. Her exact location is still unknown. But there is something strange… Every time we get closer to finding her, the trail will suddenly go cold." Jackson lowered his eyes, his dark eyes dimming. Lumina was determined never to see him again. That night, the Hunter Group made an announcement. The next morning, two new luxury necklaces, named "Regret" and "Lumination", would launch. All proceeds would be pledged to anti-school-bullying efforts.

TRACY The waiting room of the Zenith Medical Institute smelled of ozone and expensive eucalyptus, entirely devoid of the harsh bleach scent common to traditional hospital wards. Sunlight spilled across the polished wooden flooring, warming the heavy leather chair where I sat. I stared down at the perfectly blank intake form resting on the clipboard in my lap. Yesterday afternoon, a clinic coordinator had called to inform me that an anonymous donor had fully funded a highly advanced, experimental protocol for my Lunar Decay. The financial cost of such a treatment was astronomical, completely out of reach for a woman who had just resigned from her pack duties and surrendered her financial secu