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Abel calmly elaborated. "Says a guy who single-handedly took out a whole army of rebels in Congolese 10 years ago", Jenny replied with a little chuckle. "Abel Mordecai Oliz, 35 years of Age. Ex-Mercenary going with the disguise name The Merc and later joined the CIA. But resigned 5 years ago. Favorite color is blue. Lost both wife and daughter right before his eyes in the bus taking them to the airport for a planned vacation at Hawaii. Still haven't had his revenge, because he is yet to figure out who is behind the Assassination." Jenny elaborated with a stern gaze.

I could hear the bitterness in Robert's voice, he didn't approve of this, but what choice did he have, With my hand tucked behind me, I walked away, not beside anyone but alone. Yesterday, I couldn't remember who I was, today I know who I am, I am Veronica Hall, a sad little girl who was insecure, broken about being abandoned by her parents, but I am also Celestine Baker, an ethnologist who love animals, once a werewolf... Now a hybrid, destined to stop W.C.K.D and Valdomore. I will bring this new world to peace forcing humankind to hunt us no more, I will show them that we are on their side and W.C.K.D is not for the people but against them and they want to evolve by creating new humans. Ju

They had the resources, the contacts, and according to rumor the means to move people past the Citadel wall. The closer he got, the worse the world looked. Charred metal. Burned-out trucks. Scorched pavement. Bones half-buried in the ash. He found them near sundown. Three mercenaries sat around a barrel fire inside a crumbling fueling station. Their rifles leaned against the wall beside them. One cleaned a blade. Another lit something wrapped in foil. The third watched the road. Tunde stepped into the open. Hands visible. No sudden moves. One of them stood. “Don’t move.”

Noah ignored the weird gazes that were directed at him as he walked into the Mercenary Association building. The man at the receptionist's desk glanced at Noah's short figure with narrowed eyes before letting out a sly smile. "Registration?" "Hmm." Noah's voice, due to his disguise, came out thick and hoarse befitting a middle aged dwarf. The man's smile widened as he nodded. "A mercenary's registration is fairly simple. You must be above the 5th Level of the Novice Stage, you must boast of a decent level of battle experience which will be proven by battling a registered Mercenary. And for the last..." A greedy light flashed in the man's eyes as he proceeded to explain the last requirement.

**** Dear Reader, I very much hope that you enjoyed Cordelia and Hunter’s story, and catching up with all the ‘Unseen Enemy’ characters. The next book in the series is ‘Solid Steel’ (Unseen Enemy #6), and it’s Selena and Luke’s story, and it's available here on GoodNovel. I also invite you to check out my website: www.marysoljamesromance.com

“You think because you bought the ink, you own the story.” “I bought the system, Elara,” Jasmine shot back. Her finger stayed on the emergency switch. Cold steel under her skin. “The Council doesn’t care about bloodlines or old names. They care about the books balancing. And right now my registry is at a hundred percent. Out there, the world already thinks you and your brothers are dead.” “Then let’s check the actual page.” Elara didn’t charge. Didn’t draw a weapon. She closed her eyes and reached down into the bedrock of herself — into the raw, lawless black ink she’d pulled from the mountain’s roots long before the Council built their first press.

Cassie The next morning I’m in the library returning a book I finished reading last night when I couldn’t sleep. The library is massive, two stories tall with built-in shelves that stretch all the way to the ceiling and one of those rolling ladders attached to a rail so you can reach the top shelves. There are reading chairs scattered throughout, deep leather things that look like they’ve been here for decades, and tall windows that let in streams of morning light. I’m tucking the book back into its spot on one of the lower shelves when I hear voices coming from deeper in the room, near the reading area by the fireplace.

"They're not choosing it to intimidate us. They're choosing it because whatever happens there sticks. Permanently." "Both ways," Nadia said. "Both ways," Cole agreed. Marcus opened his eyes. "I have been to Dunrath once," he said. "Thirty years ago. A border dispute between two old packs." He looked at the letter. "The ground itself is — it does something. To the air. To the people on it." He paused, choosing the word carefully. "It makes things true. Whatever you say there you had better mean. The place has no tolerance for performance."

POV: Nora It broke at six in the morning. I was asleep when Sera called, which meant I missed the first hour of it. By the time I saw my phone the story had already moved through three major outlets and was accelerating in the way things accelerate when the combination of elements is exactly right for consumption. Money, a surrogate, a rival, photographs. The ingredients were clean and the headline wrote itself. *Billionaire Marcus Wolfe in Explosive Love Triangle with Surrogate Mother and Business Rival.*

Gael, Hakeem, and I had passed out after four hours of non-stop mating. I was sandwiched between my two men, my head resting on Hakeem’s chest and Gael’s leg and arm thrown over both of us as he snuggled into my back. I felt as if I had just fallen asleep when flashes and fragments of dreams began to play through my mind. They were disjointed, speeding through my mind almost too fast to catch. There is Charlie holding two pups in her arms, the pack being attacked on the western front, Arya fallen to her knees sobbing in the middle of a battlefield, funeral pyres, me looking down at my pregnant stomach with Gael and Hakeem smiling down at me, whoops of victory and wails of defeat. As the