Mike Wheeler Romane & Geschichten

Mike was in his car and waiting impatiently at a red light. He put on his bluetooth earphones and called Avery, but nobody was answering. He tried calling the bodyguard, but there was no answer either. Mike was a nervous wreck. He called Chad and got an answer right away. "Avery is insane! She was just throwing her guts up this morning but went and looked for Wanda Tate the second I left for work!" Mike said through gritted teeth. "I can't reach her or her bodyguard right now! Traffic won't f*cking move!"

Dressed in a white cape covering jeans and a shirt, my foster caretaker completely blocks my form from Valeriu's view, and I sigh in relief. “I suggest you leave before I teach you what an experienced, albeit retired, beta wolf can do with a young pup like you. Trust me, it's going to hurt, and our alpha is going to turn a blind eye. The threat hangs in the air, spoken with an authority Valeriu would never dream of having in his eighteen-year-old voice. The room is silent, filled with dense tension for a long time before I hear the wolf running away, followed by two pairs of fast moving footsteps. My tough foster caretaker turns around slowly, lowering his hood and pushing his long gray hair

At that very moment, a headline suddenly appeared on the screen. ‘‘Victor Wheeler, the President of the Wheeler family, had abandoned his wife and one of his daughters, and he had even been responsible for the deaths of his in-laws. Additionally, he was the one responsible for the death of Karl Smith. How much more heartless could Victor Wheeler be?’’ My back straightened in shock.

Kenny's pov When the hunk of a man asked me for my name I hesitated only for a few seconds, my wolf has been screaming in my head about all four of them being my mates but I ignored her. I couldn't have a mate as I was destined to die after I kill the son of a bitch alpha. She tried to tell me something but I blocked her out, not wanting to get my hopes up of a happier life. That was why I decided to give them my name, I had nothing left to lose. "It's Kenny, Kenny McKenzie alpha of the extinct White Moon pack" I answered him with my head held high and shoulders straight. The shock and disbelief on their faces almost made me laugh, but the sadness of my words stopped that in its track, if I

My fingers tightly gripped the canvas straps of my thrifted duffel bag, the faded fabric a stark contrast to the pristine, stitched leather beneath me. ​"You're going to burn a hole through the glass if you keep staring at it like that," a low, gravelly voice cut through the hum of the engine. ​I didn't turn my head. I didn't need to. I could see his reflection in the window—the sharp, arrogant line of his jawline, now marred by a faint, fading purple bruise from the industrial warehouse brawl. Michael "Mike" Weller. Nineteen years old, standing at a towering six-foot-three, with a mop of golden blonde hair that looked effortlessly styled even when he'd just rolled out of bed. He wore a simp

Looking up at him he smirks that evil smirk of his. “ don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” He whispered, chuckling. Swiping a finger across my left cheek with his hand before turning around and walking away. Oh dear goddess this is going to kill me I groan to myself. Walking out to the car I hop into the passenger seat not waiting for them. “ hey I called shotgun??!” Creed pouted stomping his foot onto the ground standing in front of the truck “ No, I called shotgun!” Ryan yelled getting in Creed face pointing at him with his finger

Even something more simple could be disastrous, something like Killian dismissing him as his bodyguard was going to be the end of the mission too. He’d been so dumb. As always recently. “I’m not only risking my life, “ he thought, “I’m risking Flynn’s too. “ He had to do something. For starters, be thankful for getting back in his room and not ruining everything. But above all, Mike had to make himself not do anything in the next few hours. And since the effects of the whiskey were going to fade out pretty soon, they had in fact started to, Mike finished the bottle, placed it on the night stands and decided to go for a run.

Steer wrestlers usually only competed in one event, because the money was so good—but so was the injury potential. “Yeah. Mike Morgan. Currently ranked second. We’re hopin’ for a big win here and in Valentine. Then we’ll go back home for about twenty minutes before we hit the Days of 76 in Deadwood. After that we’ll head to Cheyenne. Last year Mike did well in both places and we drove between Deadwood and Cheyenne five times in one week. Seems once I do get back to the ranch I’ll never catch up.”

He takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, and I know he disagrees with me. “Too much?” I ask. “No, I don’t think it’s too much,” he says. “I’m just thinking… Mike’s baby will be ten years old before he leaves the prison.” He has a point, but that’s a consequence of a number of actions taken by Mike Weaver and others before this came about. “He could’ve left Hill Country pack as soon as talk about going against me arose. He could’ve decided not to be a warrior in the service of an Alpha who spoke out against me. He could’ve done several things differently, made a series of decisions, that would’ve put him in a different situation so that he wasn’t called upon to help kill innocent peopl

Mike slipped out first and put his hand on top of my head as I slid out, Lia following behind me. While Mike uncuffed me, I stared at the tree line across the clearing. The air was eerie, and no animal or insect sounds pervaded the air. Once I crossed that tree line, my life and safety lay in my own hands. “Why did you do it?” Mike asked. His voice was low and sad. I stared at Mike, searching for animosity and hatred, but found none. Genuine curiosity and sadness shone in his blue eyes. Mike was one of my father’s most trusted soldiers. Although he was only thirty, he rose through the military ranks because of his dedication and remarkable skills in keeping our pack safe.