Mason Campbell Novel Novels & Stories

Lyla felt as though the shadows themselves were watching, waiting for a crack in their fragile unity. Jonas leaned heavily on Eli, his steps faltering despite the support. His body was bruised and battered, his clothes torn and stained with dirt and blood. But it wasn’t just his physical condition that worried Lyla it was the haunted look in his eyes as if something vital had been stripped away during his time in Kane’s grasp. When they finally reached the camp, Mason was the first to break the silence. “This is a mistake,” he growled, his voice low but sharp. “We can’t trust him.”

Whose pack will he invade next, just because he can? Jaxson paws again at the earth, and growls so loud it even takes me by surprise. The culmination of this past month seems to hit all at once. Then all we see is … red. Micah is the reason for all of it. For camp, for Dakota losing her memory. For the senseless deaths of my family and friends. I suddenly feel exactly what Dakota must have felt when she attacked Caspian. Jaxson pushes me to the back of his mind, fully taking over with no hesitation. He doesn’t want me interfering or changing his course. Not that I would.

I would even get to sleep in a bed, albeit a cramped, uncomfortable one. I could spend one night out there, and then either walk or hitch a lift into town the next morning. It wouldn’t be too bad. I had been in worse situations. Sliding open the door at the side of my camper, I stepped inside. My hands reached for things without even thinking about it. The crocheted throw was thrown onto the grass behind me as my hands curled around the new bottle of Jack Daniels wedged down the back of a chair. I wasn’t a big drinker, but I always had a bottle to hand. Something I had learnt from my father. Daddy dearest always had a bottle stashed for emergencies.

He stopped there and looked at Liam with open disdain. "You don't need to ask that much. A nobody like you wouldn't understand." Liam blinked slowly, lashes lowering and lifting again. "My name's Liam Caldwell." Mason froze. "L-Liam Caldwell? From the Eastern Division?" "Yeah," Liam said, nodding. Mason went stiff, as if he had swallowed a fly. Liam was the former head figure of the Eastern Division! Before the apocalypse, Mason wouldn't even have been qualified to stand in the same room as him.

"Miss Anderson,you'd be staying in my house until you are able to leave on your own and I promise your safety is assured you don't have to feel insecure." "Ok" Camile replied "You would love the place"Elena said "What's your name tyrant father?" sigh this lady sure knows how to piss him off "Please my name is Caleb Campbell" "Ok Caleb" "Shouldn't it be Mr Campbell to you?" "No it's either Caleb or tyrant father. With nothing to refute her with he sighed and the rest of the ride home was silent.

He was a smart boy, but by nature he was a coward, a crybaby and a spoilt brat, and when his father couldn't stand the sight of him, he threw him into a training ground for his men. The people there were orphans trained as fighters, and the weak were not worthy of living there. The camp taught him two things: to be strong so as not to be bullied and to do whatever it takes to get what you want. / Marco says that if you don't want Cynthia to remember her lost memories, it's best for her to avoid stimulation and live her life as she sees it. That way the chances of her recovering her memories are much lower. Carlo tells all the servants that if Cynthia asks about the past, they should tell her

They were in Italy to talk to Vincent's mother about their wedding I think, that's what I gathered from what Mason told me but I didn't care enough to listen. Thankfully Mason is feeling much better after the man tried to rape him yesterday. When we got home I cuddled him in bed away from my mother. He had a little cry but then he wanted me to fuck him so I did, I showed him that he belongs to me and no one else.

Luckily, I have my princess with me because I am not good at the feelings thing. And I have exactly five minutes left to decide if I am going to tell her, for Mason has just turned into the street where she lives. As I look at him and the nervousness on his face and then to my princess that has gone dead quiet, the shit becomes real. The war has begun. ...Mason POV...

The morning broke over the city like a sigh of relief after a night drenched in dread. But for Damon, there was no peace. The sunrise did not bring warmth; it lit the battlefield of a war far from over. The night before had ended in fire and fear. A private tip from an anonymous source, disguised through encrypted channels had led Damon to a gated property on the city's outskirts. Mason was there, alone, unharmed, drugged but alive. No guards. No signs of Celeste. Just a note pinned to his shirt that read: “Your move”.