Miles Morales Book Novels & Stories

"Then why did you come here?" He confessed, "Because I don't want to lose you." I snorted. This whole thing felt like a farce. "You've lost me a long time ago, Xavier. I stopped being yours the first time you lied to me. Go home, Xavier. Is your job here? Do you have a life here? "You left everything behind and flew all the way to Lyondale because, what, you thought I'd be touched? No, I find you pathetic." His eyes turned red. "Yes, I am pathetic. I deserve all this. But what do you expect me to do? I can't live without you!"

He had been injured, but the wound was not serious. Morris grimaced. He assumed that X had declined Morris’ request before attempting the assassination. To Morris’ dismay, X did not succeed and even let Edmund run away. “When did this happen?” Morris was irritated that things were not in his control. “It’s around the time we contracted a killer.” Reminded of X, Miles was terrified. Miles often worked out, ranking pretty high within the organization. However, he was defenseless against X. His fear stemmed from the wide gap between him and X.

Does he have powers like us? We don't wait to see if he's okay. We follow Elena through the hole, crawling on our hands and knees through the narrow gap. On the other side, we find ourselves in a small chamber, the walls covered in glowing moss. The air is cool and damp, and there's a faint sound of water in the distance. "Is everyone okay?" Damon asks, looking around at each of us. Alec nods, and Elena confirms that she's fine. My arm is throbbing, but I don't think it's broken. I flex my fingers, relieved to find that I can still move them.

Disclaimer This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events and places is purely coincidental. Emiliana

“There’s one more thing, sir.” Alexander looked up, his expression unreadable but alert. Jonathan continued carefully, “Ms. Morales has booked a one-way ticket to London. She departs in two weeks’ time. The booking was made discreetly — no official forwarding address, no contact with her family. It appears she intends to... start fresh.” The words settled between them like quiet thunder. Alexander’s hand stilled over the folder. His gaze dropped to the printed flight confirmation. “She’s not just stepping away from the Morales name,” Jonathan added gently. “It seems she may be stepping away from everything tied to her past life here.”

"Then I'll get going. I still have a lot of work to do." As soon as Sol left Kyle's office, Kyle stared at the folder in front of him. His heart sank as he read the contents of the file, his worst fears confirmed in black and white. He could not help but tremble, not in fear but in anger. The file detailed the tragic story of Sol's best friend, whom she recognizes as her sister, a victim of unspeakable violence at the hands of her surrogate mother's live-in partner. The pain and anguish contained within its pages were almost too much to bear. His own sister, Sherly Montenegro,.

“Face the truth for myself?” With that comment, Miller lowered his head and stepped to the side. Just behind him, another figure stood up from the crowd surrounding the fire and ambled toward them. He was significantly taller and looked older than most of them, but no better dressed. Unlike anyone else, he was displaying a rather arrogant smile as he approached the entourage. “Morales. I don’t believe we’re expecting your group back so soon,” he stated, outstretching his arms carelessly. “If everyone under my lead was just as sad and pitiful as you then how do you think that would reflect upon me?”

He had always admired Morris' lighthearted spirit and kind nature. "How can I forget you, Morris?" Miles replied with a smile while accepting Morris's hand, and they both shook hands. "Nice to see you again too." Miles already knew Morris because they both met during our trip to Palawan, Philippines, many years ago. It was a breathtaking journey that left an indelible mark on our lives. And I am impressed by how Miles still hadn't forgotten Morris even after all those years had passed. As fate would have it, Miles and Morris crossed paths once again. They let go after shaking hands, their connection seemingly stronger than ever. To catch up on lost time, Miles and I eagerly followed Morris t

I dump my bag on the floor and read through the shelf while pulling books out and mumble as I go. ‘Even a book can be dangerous in the wrong hands.’ ‘Ignite.’ ‘Hell is empty and all the devils are here.’ ‘You’ll make bad choices. Sometimes you’ll choose the best of bad ones.’ ‘Tuesday is Fucked.’ ‘Everything’s a game. And now it’s your turn.’ I have a stack of about 10 books before I abruptly stop. "Next isle." I say and we walk up and down the library isles. I climb and jump to get books off of shelves and Aidan has to catch me a couple of times when I fell.

I replied, feeling a little embarrassed at being caught in the act of browsing for a book. Miles nodded, his eyes flicking to the book in my hand. “You like history?” he asked, a grin spreading across his face. I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but smile back at him. “Yeah, I do,” I admitted, feeling a little shy about my interests. Miles chuckled and began to tell me about the history book in my hand. It was called “The Werewolf Chronicles: A History of Lycanthropy,” and it delved into the long and mysterious history of werewolves.