Mala Novels & Stories

Rashonda rolled her eyes at Agent Malloy while furiously whispering up at his tall physique. “I’m sorry,” Agent Malloy apologized, feeling stupid about reminding Rashonda how ferocious the bomb was while she was holding the bomb in her arms along with her son. The FBI agent’s nerves overtook him, and whenever he would get nervous, he would talk too much or say something inappropriate. A sweaty palm moment ensued between Agent Malloy and Rashonda. Both of them swallowed their hearts back down into their chest.

Damien asked, looking around the room. "Hmm," I thought as I looked up and noticed a chandelier in front of me. It was captivating and hypnotic to the eyes. "Yes," I replied, returning my gaze to Damien. "Say, what do Mafias do?" I inquired, widening his eyes. He appeared surprised by my unexpected question. "In a nutshell, mafias do unimaginable bad things that you don't need to know," he said, lowering his gaze. I raised an eyebrow and asked bluntly, "Why? Aren't I your woman?" Damien was taken aback by what I had said, and he laughed, placing his right hand on his mouth.

Tessa The dirt stings my palms as I roll, springing back to my feet before Mala can capitalize on the opening. Good. She’s learning. My wolf hums with approval inside my chest. Again, she urges. Push her. She’s stronger than she knows. Mala doesn’t wait for instructions. She comes at me fast—too fast for someone her age if you ask most commanders—but she’s Thorne’s sister, and stubborn runs in their blood. Her stance is solid, feet grounded, chin tucked. She feints left, trying to draw my guard, then snaps a kick toward my knee.

Arjun tried to clear my muddled brain. I was playing with Kavya in her room when Mala entered. Today I was taking her out on a date. She was wearing a pale green one-shoulder gown that was fitted at the waist and flared down. The bodice had pearl embellishments and a pearl belt on the waist. There was a long slit at the side. She was wearing a pearl necklace paired with long single-layer pearl earrings. She was looking beautiful. " Jai, I am ready. You have not changed till now." Mala sat at the edge of the bed.

Maria stared in astonishment at how mesmerising his eyes were and the mole—he had a mole on his nose. Something about it felt awfully familiar. Does she know this person?

The spirits of my ancestors faded away, and in their place, Ersilia, Carlotta, Marcia, and Malvina had returned to their four points. “Hail to the creatures and spirits of the West. Thank you for attending this circle. Go in peace, and know you are always welcome here.” Malvina proclaimed, snuffing out the red candle. “Hail to the creatures and spirits of the South. Thank you for attending this circle. Go in peace, and know you are always welcome here.” Marcia proclaimed, snuffing out the blue candle. “Hail to the creatures and spirits of the East. Thank you for attending this circle. Go in peace, and know you are always welcome here.” Carlotta proclaimed, snuffing out the yellow candle.

had been broken. “I am the King!” Malakai roared, and for a second, his power flared—a desperate, dying embers of the god he had tried to become. He lunged at me, his claws extended. But he never reached me. A massive black shadow crashed through the hole in the ceiling, slamming into Malakai with the force of a falling star. It was a wolf and the largest I had ever seen. Its fur is the colour of midnight and its eyes the colour of a summer storm.

LYRA “Excuse me. I’ll be back,” Malaki murmured, already turning away before I could even lift a finger to stop him. His scent dark, woodsy, familiar lingered for a moment, then faded into the noise of the hall. And just like that, I was alone.

“Testing her patience.” Kieran smirked. His hand punched thumb and forefinger together, tapping twice at his chin. “Seeds?” Implying at the thing she does with the little black seeds. Malen nodded, her hands forming small circles near her chest. “Healing drills.” She signed 'injury' by tracing her middle finger down her opposite arm, then shook her head sharply. “Fake.” A quick downward push of both hands. “Skip chores" Her fingers paused midair, then brushed forward. “She saw right through it.”

Thankfully, the familiar, horrible sight of Malia and her disemboweled mother wasn't there anymore. " Here is the ride", the voice said and I waited for a too-fast-to-be-seen car to come carry me out of there, or for a magical rollercoaster to come out of nowhere and take me on the ride, but nothing happened, not even a bike came by, rather a small breeze started to blow, slightly shaking the statues, both the statues of the hanged Messiah and his mother who's statue had a ring around it's head, representing her halo, or as some might say, representing the twelve stars with which she was crowned with. Suddenly, as if it was forming out of dust particles in the air, coming together to conjuga