Matthew Bernard Novels & Stories

“I know. And I want you with me. I just- I didn’t want to lose myself completely. But I’m glad we can find a way to make this work.” Donovan smiled, his tension easing. “We will. But there’s one thing I’m not compromising on,” he added, his tone playful but serious. “What’s that?” Boma asked, raising an eyebrow. “Maternity visits. I’m going to every single one with you, no exceptions,” he said, grinning. Boma laughed, leaning into his embrace. “Deal.” “Also, I will have a cleaning person come in to keep the house clean so you do not stress.”

The chill of the northern winds no longer bothered Alexandro. He had grown used to the bite of ice in the air, but the hollow ache in his chest had become unbearable. It had been a month—one long, grueling month since Serena vanished, stolen from the world he’d built for her, torn from his arms like a dream wrenched from sleep. He hadn’t slept properly in weeks. His wolf, Ravik, prowled constantly beneath his skin, restless and irate, sensing the absence of their mate like a missing limb. The only thing keeping Alexandro grounded was the relentless pursuit of truth.

Revenge is a kind of wild justice, which the more man's nature runs to, the more ought to law to weed it out. -FRANCIS BACON, Essays *** ~Aiden I smelled Anna and Ben the moment my mother came in, I did not like that one bit and I couldn’t do anything about it now. Concentrating on the traitorous bitch in front of me, I tensed when Anna barged in with a raging Ben. Anna’s gaze met Grace’s and they both stared at each other. Grace in shock and Anna as if she remembered something.

Who ever he is, he might just be a dangerous distraction I wouldn’t mind keeping even if it’d destroy me. “Shall we continue the tour?” a manly voice comes from behind me. I look beside me to see an older man in an elaborate official attire. Mr. Gab, the school Dean. A sad pot-bellied homunculi. He looks between me and Mr. hot pants and coughs deliberately to get his attention. “Shall we, Your highness.” “Sure” he responds to Mr. Gab without tearing his eyes from mine.

“He’s a fucking student, Jenna.” I adjusted my glasses, counting the seconds, and shuffled the papers on my clipboard until the edges were frayed. But still, against every shred of my professional dignity, my gaze drifted back to him. “Oh, fuck me,” I muttered under my breath. Because at that very moment, Matthew had chosen the very same moment to grab the hem of his jersey and use it to wipe the sweat from his eyes. Exposing his well-sculpted abs and a silver of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of his shorts.

" Matthew, Matthew Richard." Sean certainly had heard of this name. Sean was not in the academic circle, but he often went to the Presidential Palace, and his grandfather, Walden, was a master in the academic circle. Matthew was the youngest academician in the capital and he got the President's honorary medal at the age of twenty-one… Sean knew him, but he pretended to know nothing about Matthew at all. "Nice to meet you, too." Sean shook hands with Matthew. "I'm Sean, Sean Handerson."

My stomach twisted as she handed it to me. I opened the paper, reading each name with the gravity they deserved. "Dorian Caine," I called. My father. The pack answered as one. "Remembered." "Seraphine Caine." My mother. "Remembered." Warriors. Healers. Mates. Friends. And then, "Elara." The name nearly caught in my throat. Maeve's fingers found mine, warm and certain. The pack's answer was louder this time. "Remembered." I squeezed her hand and finished reading until the list was done.

'There was a sudden deem lights, Phelan remembers someone, who was Don Carlton telling her to go lay down and rest. She tried to refuse, but he was too strong, and she was unable to stop him. It was so sudden that Don stood, watching Phelan in a distant approached her in a smile that shed some lights in the deem lights that came from the window. A meter from Phelan, Don put his hands on her shoulders, and then made an excuse and left.

Xavier: When she first mentioned the name, something in me went still. “Lorenzo D’Amaris,” Valerie said with a small, almost relieved smile, setting the file on the desk. “He’s interested in investing in the new firm. It’s all legitimate, I checked everything twice. He seems professional. I am still checking things out, but the idea of someone wanting to invest is making me happy.” I forced my expression to stay neutral even as my instincts sharpened. “D’Amaris?” I repeated, slowly. “Where’s he from?”

The nouns floating weightlessly in the space, sharp and heavy as a scalpel. Aurora’s brows furrowed. "Mate with my mate? I have no mate," she declared stiffly as she got to her feet. Her gaze was steady, yet her heart drummed in her chest. "You’re mistaken, witch. If you’re talking about Sage, he’s not my mate. He’s just—"