Marvel Comics Yelena Belova Novels & Stories

Noah whispered, “That’s her.” Bella stared at the woman. “Who?” Noah answered quietly. “The woman who erased us.” The woman smiled. “Hello, sister.” Bella’s face went white. “That’s impossible.” The woman laughed softly. “You’ve always said that.” I looked at Bella. Then at the woman. “Who are you?” She smiled. “My name is Elena.” Bella stepped backward. “But Elena is already here.” The woman smiled wider. “That’s why you should never trust memories.” Then every machine in the room switched on. And seven children’s voices whispered together. “Mom.” :::

The noise of the arena faded into a dull buzz. It was Elena. But it wasn't the Elena I knew. The Elena I knew wore oversized hoodies and looked exhausted. She wore glasses and no makeup. This woman was radiant. She wasn't wearing glasses. Her makeup was sharp, accentuating her eyes. She looked professional, powerful, and devastatingly beautiful. And she was wearing a Titan's ID badge around her neck. "No way," Sophia whispered beside me. Her grip on my arm tightened until her nails dug in. "Is that... is that her?"

“For an exhibition.” She studied me for a second. “Art should go where it is appreciated,” she said. “Not locked away.” I nodded. “That’s usually the goal.” A small smile curved her lips. “Valeria,” she said, extending her hand. “I believe we’ve met before. Marcus’s girl.” “Elena,” I replied, shaking it. “Nice to meet you again.” Her grip was firm. “Well, Elena,” Valeria said, releasing my hand, “perhaps this isn’t the end of the conversation.”

LUCA ELENA—Just the sound of her name sent bumps crawling on my skin, it made my stomach turn in a dangerously unsettling manner. I didn’t know what it was, but I couldn’t ignore it. I had been with many women before, some elegant, some bold, some utterly predictable. There was always a pattern, a similarity among them. But Elena? She was in a league of her own—unreadable, definitely unpredictable. And the craziest part? I still couldn’t fathom what it was about her that made me lose my sense of reasoning.

“Don’t compare yourself to Lysandra. That girl doesn’t know love from obsession. And as for Delilah, let me make something clear; women will come and go in an Alpha’s life, Sienna. They always do. They will try to seduce him. Some will even sleep with him. Others will kiss him. They will openly flirt with him in front of you. You will be angry. You will fight him. And you are going to set boundaries. But these women come and they go. What matters… is the woman who stays. What matters is the woman who stands by her side until the very end. Because if I'm going to be very realistic, there's always going to be someone that is younger, more beautiful, more graceful as a doctress even. You should

She walked toward James, pouted, and said, “Don’t even think about leaving me behind!” After walking for a distance, a villa district came into sight. At that moment, a few mercenaries dressed in camouflage uniforms and armed with weapons rushed toward them, barricading their path. Seeing the approaching group of people, Yelena’s curiosity was piqued. “Wow! They’re mercenaries.” Yelena was Durandal’s Princess and had experienced all sorts of occurrences. Rather than feeling fearful, she was thrilled by the scene. “Who are you three?” A middle-aged man with a machine gun approached and scanned the trio.

“Yes? Not anymore but I was born in the Taro family. Why?” Yelena and Bolt looked at him strangely, and Zen felt self-conscious. Did he say something wrong? The panic in him only grew when Yelena dragged Bolt away to talk in Russian. Zen didn’t understand a word and only wished that Sasha was here to translate. The discussion ended briefly, and Yelena announced that they would tell him at dinner only if he accepted one of their requests. “R-request?” Bolt grinned. “Don’t reject Yelena’s kindness. She might be the youngest invigilator at only fourteen, but her skills are unrivalled. Not even the Death Princess can surpass her in an actual battle.”

He reached out, brushing a hand against her waist. “I’ll kill him before he ever touches you.” “No,” she said, eyes blazing. “I will.” Elsewhere — Drake’s Prague Compound Drake de Marco walked into his private lounge. A redheaded woman lounged on a velvet chaise, legs crossed, stilettos glinting like knives. Yelena Volkov. Former Interpol. Now his paid shadow. She stood, sharp as a switchblade. “You called in everyone,” she said. “Even the Germans are nervous.”

"My name is Yelena. That’s all I can say for now. Years ago, I met someone with the surname Hayes, and you truly resemble him in terms of having sharp intuition and always being precautious." "Did Jason come here before?" "Non! I'm not referring to Black Circle's infamous Owner; rather, I'm referring to someone who has nothing to do with Black Circle. His name was Gary if I remember correctly." Selina’s chest is getting tighter and her breathing is becoming harder as if she is stepping into a nightmare. These are the triggers for Selina to aim a gun at Yelena’s forehead. Using a coarse voice, Selina once again asks about Yelena’s identity. "WHO… ARE…YOU?"

There's going to be a pleasant surprise that'll put Helena in an even tighter spot. On top of that, Yori is eager to reveal Helena's identity. Despite her seemingly innocent and simple demeanor, he believes she is not what she appears to be. Yori sees Helena as a cunning woman. She's good at positioning herself and using others to achieve her goals. When she thought about the photo of her lover chatting away with Helena, even though it was just a photo, Yori felt a rush of jealousy.