Michael Corvin Novels & Stories

A crack in the polish-cloth face, small but real. Leon registered it. I watched him register it — the slight shift in his eyes, the fractional settling of his shoulders, like a man who’d been braced for continued denial and had just been given something different. “Corvin,” he said. “Former Evergreen merchant. In the holding settlement.” Corvin.

He only needed the man sitting a few seats away to notice him, just like he had from the very start. Especially because Lorenzo had bet on the rival horse just to get his attention. "Patriarch Greco, I think you’ll owe me a few thousand!" the King’s Beta rose from his leather chair, unable to help himself, almost coming in his pants just because Sapphire Wind was in the lead. "So it seems, Mr. Grimal," Lorenzo replied with fake annoyance, then calmly lifted the wine to his lips. The Beta stayed leaning on the railing, his eyes practically bulging out.

"You think you're safe because you're a diplomat? Look around you. This is a fortress of wolves. If Aldric finds out you're bringing human drama into his Great Hall, he won't stop at killing me. He'll rip you apart just to keep the peace." Corvin flattened himself against the opposite wall, his skin turning a stark, bloodless white, very pale. He looked down at his bleeding arm, then up at me, finally seeing the truth: the girl he had sold to the auction block was long gone, and never coming back. ​"You're insane," he stammered, his voice trembling. "They're going to kill you anyway." ​"Then fine, I have absolutely nothing to lose," I said, taking another step closer, With the steel pin just

' I asked. He smiled. 'My villa. Don't worry, just follow me.' His arms were warm and comforting, and I couldn't resist his mysterious scent. Inside, I glanced around at the exquisite decor, uneasiness creeping in. A business card on the coffee table caught my eye. 'Michael Edward Carter?!' I gasped. This was the legendary Alpha King, the most esteemed pureblood werewolf, controlling the wealth and resources of countless Lycan packs across North America, and James's uncle.

She steps slightly forward. “Minthe . . . I knew you were unhappy with the mating ceremony being delayed, but conspiring with rogues? Working with the very criminals who attack our borders . . . that really isn't something I expected from you. To put the entire pack in danger just out of spite . . .” The infirmary goes quiet. Corvin doesn’t look up from what he’s doing, but his hands slow slightly. Two orderlies near the back cabinet find their shoes suddenly very interesting.

SERENA POV “You can’t do that, Luna Serena. That punishment is too harsh.” The voice cut through the hall like a blade dragged against stone. I turned slowly, my gaze landing on the man who dared to speak. James’ father, Ronan Corvin, stepped forward from the noble section, his voice echoing through the hall. His chin was lifted, spine stiff with inherited arrogance, as though generations of wealth and influence stood behind him as armor. “We, the Covins family, disagree with your punishment,” he continued. “This decision disgraces our name.”

There's a speck of green in his right pupil, a quirk befitting the main character of a romance novel. I now see him as the attractive man that the media portrays him to be. It’s so odd that no matter how hard I try, I’m still a creature of the night. The true beauty around me shines only in the dark. “Do you know Ion Corvin?” Paul asks, taking me out of my stupid schoolgirl gawking. "Not personally." I remain in the same spot, my back against the wall he pushed me into. "But everybody knows he’s a member of the Council, the one responsible for diplomacy and covering everything through glamour and words."

Caitlin grabbed a chair and sat down adjacent to me, her bare thighs squashing down onto the seat as she folded her ankles and leaned back. She gestured with her hand to let me continue, almost impatiently and I cocked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. This woman… "If," I emphasised. "You're willing. Your target would be Lucas Trevino, software engineer and owner of Godfather nightclub." I paused for her reaction and she simply just nodded her head waiting for me to continue.

Serina continued, “The court demands justice. This shifter endangered the king, and must be removed permanently.” Several nobles stepped forward, voices rising. “He is a spy.” “He brings wildland violence into our halls.” “Execute him and restore order.” Tavris remained still, his expression unreadable. Corvin listened without interruption. When the noise reached its peak, he lifted one hand, and silence fell again. “You accuse him of endangering me,” Corvin said. “You are wrong.” A ripple of shock passed through the room. Corvin stood. “He did not open the gates. He did not plant mercenaries in my service corridors, guide assassins through hidden routes, nor did he summon puppets that wear

I looked up to see a lean man with blonde hair and bright eyes raising his hands in surrender. Ricco, Nicco, and Maximo shielded me with their bodies. “Viola, it’s me, Carlo Mancuso!” He yelled loud enough to see him. I finally recognized him when he said his name. “Ricco, let him through. He’s my friend.” My three bodyguards obliged and Carlo walked to me. He was the nephew to Stefano Mancuso, the leader of one of the four mafia families in Italy. He and I were not friends. I’d only uttered those words to ensure Ricco would let him through. I’d gone to boarding school with him when I was in high school—before I transferred to an all-girls boarding school.