Malenia Novels & Stories

She agreed to meet me up for lunch tomorrow and they all left the pack house, with Harold looking back every minute and wondering why he was so nervous to be around me. “Thanks, Malia. I really needed the support.” I let out through our mind link, speaking directly to Valerie's wolf, Malia. I know that Hunter is a strong and powerful wolf, but there is no way he could intimidate Harold Armstrong with his aura because Harold doesn’t have his wolf yet, so he can’t feel Hunter's domineering aura. But Malia is not just the future Luna. She is the last healer and she has the power to reach into his mind and influence his wolf to comply. She manipulated him to feel her strong aura, and he felt so

Frances bellowed "She refused to tell me her name but I can describe her" "Go on we are listening" I squawked "When she came here with Mayanrd she was in a pink hair but I was definitely sure that wasn't her real hair colour, it looked like she was fond of dyeing her hair. Also she has a smooth skin and yes she has a mole on her left cheek, she also has a thick body, if I could predict I would say she's in her late 50's that's all I know" he stuttered and I let go of his collar making sure to straighten it and I turned to look at Malia who stood firm as a rock with tears blurring in her eyes, it felt as though she was in her own world. Stepping a bit closer my hand clamped her waist and her

But nothing happens. “Who are you?” I ask, frowning. “It’s me, Malia,” the voice says behind me, and I turn, only to find a woman standing there. She is beautiful. Thin face, full lips, small nose, and slightly slanted eyes. Her skin is pale, her eyes dark, and her black hair provides a striking contrast. She wears a white dress that fits perfectly to her curves. Her hair falls over her like a tunic. The thin strap, seeming to be made of gemstones, extends along her arm, creating a braid. She is beautiful, I can’t stop repeating.

Camila Madam Melania’s tears flowed silently as my mother spoke, her words clearly resonating deep within. It was as if my mother’s honesty had pierced through the protective shell Melania had built around herself, a shell she had grown used to hiding behind. For a moment, she looked vulnerable, raw even. The steely coldness that often defined her seemed to melt, leaving behind only a woman burdened by fear and guilt.

I edge forward and slide my dainty hand into his huge paw. I sense Mal’s unease and say, “It’s okay, Mal. I’m here. Show me all your dreams and all the nightmares that plague you.” “Kaiya, I can’t. Not in one nap or even one night. It will take a long time,” Malleus replies in a voice as parched as the scorched earth beneath our feet. “No need to rush. Tell me about this one. What can you tell me?” “Nothing. This one is new.”

For every wound they inflicted upon my family, I will carve their downfall into history. I, Regina Anderson, will rule this land. The Grand Duchy is mine to command, mine to protect. And by my hand, the Andersons will rise, greater, stronger, unchallenged. All those who underestimated me for being a woman will see what happens when a woman burns with fury. They have only ever known the rage of men. Loud, reckless, predictable. But I will not scream; I will not rant. My rage will be quiet and merciless. My eyes gleamed dark with purpose.

Ricki laughed. Malena got down on her knees, looked at me with a slightly worried but mostly horny expression, took a deep breath and then lowered her head. Her flexibility was astounding, her back arching dramatically so that most of her upper body was flat against the floor but she was still somehow folded in half at the waist, exposing herself entirely.

The word tasted bitter and satisfying at the same time. Malia gave a short, humorless laugh. “Gullible is generous.” She set her napkin down beside her plate. “I thought as much. What exactly could attract Keal to that foolish woman?” Her tone sharpened on the last word. I smirked faintly. “Nothing permanent. He probably needed a distraction. Or someone easy to control.” “Gina has always been desperate for validation,” Malia said coolly. “She mistakes attention for devotion.” I didn’t respond immediately. I watched her instead.

I staggered backward with a gasp, my scarf shifting slightly. "Oh my God," one of them groaned. "Watch where you're going, freak." I froze. I know this voice from somewhere. Oh no! Melissa. The gang leader of the BGW(Bad Girls Worldwide). The so-called rich princess of the town. Melissa wasn't just rich; she's the kind of girl who walked into a room and made it her kingdom without even trying. Her parents are the untouchable elites, well second untouchable elites as people say. They are polished, powerful, and praised by every adult with something to lose. She wears luxury like second skin- handbags worth more than a semesters tuition and shoes that never touched mud. Her hair always perfect

“It wasn’t that it was boring; it was just not interesting.” Malen’s brow lifted, and her index finger traced a small arc outward from her chest, palm up. “Different how?” “Contenders,” Roy said aloud, as if explaining to no one in particular. “They were just not as good as I expected.” The train rocked gently as Malen adjusted her bag, her next signs tucked low behind the strap. Both hands fluttered outward, palms down. "Children are restless.” Her dominant hand circled at the temple, then flicked forward. “Testing her patience.”