Marlowe Sienna Romane & Geschichten

The pain was a distant hum, eclipsed by the sight of the woman standing at the edge of the torchlight. Sienna. She looked different. The polished, porcelain Luna of the Black Mountain was gone. Her hair was lank, her eyes sunken and rimmed with a feverish, desperate red. She didn’t look like a wolf; she looked like a corpse being animated by sheer hatred. “You really should have stayed at the bottom of the river, Elara,” Sienna hissed, her voice echoing strangely in the stone amphitheater. She took a step forward, the heavy fabric of her cloak snapping in the wind. “Everything was perfect. Killian was mine. The pack was stable. And then you had to crawl back with these... these abominations.

“Utterly ridiculous.” Our laughter filled the room, the craziness of what we did felt too much to contain. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, interrupting our laughter fest. Still smiling, I reached for it but paused when I saw a piece of paper lying beside it. It was cream-colored with an embossed gold seal. Curious, I picked it up and read the contents. State of Florida – Marriage Certificate This certifies that Eric Alexander Macmillan and Sienna Marie Jones were lawfully joined in marriage...

Red wine splashed across Scarlett’s robe and ran down her neck. The crimson liquid stained her pale skin, creating a strange and unsettling beauty. Scarlett crouched and picked up one of the glass shards with her slender fingers. She had made him furious again. She didn’t know why, but seeing him angry always made her happy. It even filled her with a faint thrill. --- Sienna received the evening gown Rowan had sent her early that morning. It was a sharply structured black mermaid gown with a strapless bodice and a set of custom jewelry.

Remembering Jeff made Gwen pity Sienna even more. "Thank you for the sandals, Sienna!" Hannah called out. "May your blessings continue to flow and multiply." Sienna simply nodded, offering a graceful smile toward Hannah. Gwen felt irked watching her. 'Ugh, so pompous!' "Gwen, mark my words—I think Sienna has a crush on your husband!" Husna blurted out. "A crush on Hans?" Gwen asked, baffled.

I gasp as the little sparks set my core alight. If Mason noticed the effect he was having on me, he was gentlemanly enough not to comment. “I am your mate Sienna.” He says matter-of-factly letting his hand drop to the gear stick and shifting into the first. “We were made for each other.”

I asked. “Your wife. She’s snooping around again. She just managed to secure a shipment of retinol and I have a bad feeling about it. She’s either working with Fallon again or with someone more sinister.” The only sinister person here was him. How could he be so oblivious to that?

“You’re underestimating him. And me.” Marco chuckled, pacing slowly around her. “Underestimate you? Sweetheart, you’re nothing but a pawn in a game you don’t understand.” “Funny,” Sienna shot back, her voice sharp, “that’s exactly what people are saying about you. And look where you are—desperate enough to sell me to save your sorry skin.” Marco’s smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing. “Watch your mouth.”

Her eyes trailed over me for the second time now, and she smirked, “ Hmph. I see someone has finally got some sass,” I rolled my eyes, and a scoff escaped my lips. Does she think she would be able to scare me with that? Obviously that was what she came here to do, after four freaking years, thinking that I was still the same girl they bullied. “it is such a pity, you know? Four years later, and you still decide to be a thorn in my flesh, Sienna. You think by marrying Adams you would suddenly have an edge over me? You still want to be with him so bad that you haven't gotten over your little obsession with him in highschool. I thought you might have changed a bit, but you are still so shameles

Ethan’s jaw twitched, but he still didn’t pull away. Marco chuckled. “You don’t seem to mind the storm much, Sienna,” he said dryly. “I find storms… exhilarating,” she replied, running her nails along the fabric of Ethan’s suit jacket. “Don’t you?” Marco’s smirk deepened as his eyes found mine again. “Depends on who I’m sitting with.” I felt my cheeks warm. Sienna caught the look between us and arched an eyebrow. “Amelia,” she said, as though she’d just remembered I existed. “How’s the hand?”

Though absolutely nowhere near the lethal sex-appeal and command Rowan carried. He turned to face me. His eyes narrowed just a fraction, calm but assessing. "Hey, I know you!" I said brightly. "You’re that guy from the restaurant the other night." He didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile. Didn’t even blink. Just looked down at me with maddening composure. "I am indeed," he said. "And you’re Sienna…" His voice was smooth yet sharp as he added, "Rowan’s ex-wife. The one who likes attention almost as much as she hates not being the center of it."