Michael Vey 9 Novels & Stories

A moment passed between them where Reggie clasped his hand and pulled him into a strange sort of hug. I watched in silence as the two parted. Felt the bond tighten between us when he came to stand beside me. We watched the plane take off again, refuelled and ready to kill other people. Maybe we would need Reggie again. And if my mother screamed as much as I did… We would tip him handsomely. Maybe give him a holiday somewhere nice for him and his family. Because he was still doing both of us a favour and I would always repay my debts. “Are you ready to brave the pack?” Michael asked from beside me, pulling a scarf over his head. His combat gear was also covered with loose fitting clothes that

I added, the urgency of my request registered in my voice. "Yes, alpha," he replied, and I ended the call. I dialled Michael's number next. "Michael, where are you?" I asked. "Alpha, I am almost at the hospital," he replied. "What did you do to those criminals?" I asked. "I broke their bones, took them to the forest behind the warehouse and fed them to the wild beasts of the forest," he replied. "Perfect," I said and ended the call. "I am sorry," I heard a faint voice.

JANAYAH The SUV was a cage on wheels, smelling of stale leather and Michael’s cloying, metallic scent—blood mixed with expensive musk. I was jammed into the footwell of the back seat, curled tight against the transmission tunnel, trying to make myself disappear. Every mile we put between us and the cabin felt like a physical tearing inside my chest. I couldn't close my eyes without seeing Mace on that floor—his magnificent strength turned to paralyzed stone, his golden eyes wide with a panic that mirrored my own, the grey pallor of death creeping up his neck.

Arthur finds me like that—curled on the floor, knees to my chest, the baby kicking like it’s trying to escape. "Lily." His voice is calm. Too calm. I don’t look up. "I’m fine." A lie. We both know it. He crouches in front of me, his fingers tilting my chin up. His thumb brushes my cheek, wiping away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. "You’re safe here," he murmurs. Another lie. But I let him believe it. Michael stands at the edge of the docks, the silver dagger a cold weight in his pocket. The moon is a sliver overhead, barely lighting the rotting planks beneath his feet.

The driver shut the door, and soon they were on their way in the black-tinted Maybach. Hayden and Cassandra walked alongside each other as they reached the elevator, riding the thing up to the second floor. The elevator suddenly dinged, revealing a greeting view.

The voice of the rogue suddenly sheds its electronic distortion, running parallel with the sharpening image of a skull marking on the screen. Michael’s heart drops into his stomach as he recognizes the specific tribal ink and the guttural cadence of the voice. "I know the exact den," Michael roars, leaping over the stone table and sprinting toward the courtyard where his personal transport sits. Tito Hale and Jackie Jackson are instantly at his back. Tito Hale's wolf harbors a deep terror of high altitudes, but the alpha doesn't hesitate as he hooks his harnesses into the cabin next to Michael.

His face was pale and his hands were shaking. I held his gaze for one second longer than necessary. “Suit yourself.” ———————— Mario had the engine running before I reached the car. I slid into the back seat. Michael is beside me. The door slammed shut. Tires screamed against the pavement. The city blurred past in streaks of gray and orange. Streetlights flashed across the window in violent intervals, lighting the inside of the car like a strobe. Michael leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “We’ve got her location so you can relax now. Salvatore”

Someone croaks, the sound cutting through the quiet air. We break from the hug and look. Raven. The bastard is rolling over the asphalt, grunting in pain as blood pools around him. Someone steps out of Michael's Escalade, Bones, and walks up to Raven. Without warning, he sends his booted foot into Raven's belly, kicking him hard. Raven coughs blood, cursing. “Bring him, Bones. Raven and I have a lot to catch up on.” Michael croaks. He gives me a lingering kiss on my temple that fuels my body with strength and then lifts me into his arms, heading to the car.

Sweet, raw air. “What—what did you do?” Michael asked, his voice shaking. “I don’t know,” she said, stunned. “I just… wanted him back.” “Guys,” Greg said, his body tense. “Someone is coming.” The sky above shimmered for a moment as I turned towards the direction Greg was referring to. Shadows moved on the edge of the trees. A low howl cut through the quiet. And then he stepped forward. Van. Dressed in black. Surrounded by the Grimshade Pack like a tide of piranhas.

The predator did. “I wouldn’t press that if I were you, Michael. Unless you want the Blackwood name to end tonight.” My voice didn’t shake. I stepped in front of Zander, my hand flat against his chest to keep him from charging into a death trap. Michael’s thumb hovered over the detonator, his eyes twin pits of icy resolve. “The boy is a Vermon, Victoria,” Michael sneered. “His death is a tragedy I am willing to bear to secure the merger.”