Morgan Wade Novels & Stories

They need me to sign off on different things and, of course, have one annoying question. This is why I’m on a zoom meeting with the sub-Betas of the other cities my pack lives in throughout my territory. “When do we get to meet this new Luna we’ve heard about?” Wade questioned with a smirk. I sighed as this sent Robert and Brett into a frenzy as well.

No way was I letting some random gamer track me. Halfway through our ninth match, Wade had told me he was playing to raise money for his sick mother. I felt bad for him. After that, I didn’t care about losing any more. In fact, I convinced myself I was deliberately throwing the mission. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t true. And later he slipped and mentioned his dead mother’s grave, and I realized I was scammed by a sob story. But I didn’t think Adrian would mind. I took off the gaming headset and massaged my neck. Christ, it was already dark. I had been so invested in my conversation with Wade that I hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed.

There’s no other light except for my desk lamp, and even though my eyes are already extremely tired, I force myself to finish the work. I need to pretend to be hardworking. I need to win their favor. It’s only my first day, and I can’t show my true colors yet. “Working hard, I see.” I flinched. I quickly lifted my head, and there I saw him. Wade, leaning against the door frame, wearing a dark gray suit and holding a cell phone in his hand. “W-Wade?” “Who else would it be?” he smiled and walked closer. “I’m here to pick you up.”

He ultimately believes they can because Martins has changed since he met Chloe. Name: MORGAN KEISHA WILLIAMS Age: 21 Nationality: American (born Atlanta, Georgia) Profession/Education: Junior at Columbia University, Cybersecurity major Part-time freelance IT consultant (makes more money than most professors) Side hustle: Doesn't hack illegally anymore, but the skills are there Physical Description:

He had been controlling his pain much better since detoxing and I had forgotten that it still causes him such grief. Wade jerks his hand away and lengthens his stride, putting distance between us. He has never fought me on sharing this pain before. And after taking even just a tiny portion, I can tell that his run had caused it to flare up. He catches up quickly to Liam and both men walk side by side, looking tense and large. Wade works to hide his limp, and it hits me. He doesn’t want to seem weak in front of Liam. Wade is jealous.

He was shirtless. He sped toward Elder Xan, who was busy sinking his fangs into the neck of the trumpet player he had overpowered. Adrian grabbed Xan and slammed him against the wall with brutal force. The wall cracked on impact. Xan crumpled to the ground, unconscious, as Adrian released him. “In my office in twenty minutes,” Adrian said as he walked past me and headed for the exit. Medics came running toward the wounded. I helped support the injured men, but they couldn’t save the trumpet player. He passed away a few minutes after they arrived.

It was still concerning to me that he was sedated most of the day, but he was clear-headed enough to be my alley in this. “So, you’re here,” Wade’s voice drifted towards me. I sipped my drink, ignoring him. “Where’s your whore?” I smirked looking at him. He had a cast on his arm and his left leg, leaning on his crutch. One of his eyes was still swollen and his scowl looked a little lopsided. “Wade, I heard about your accident,” I said easily. “Should I sign your cast?” Mordecai snickered, “No fighting before dinner. It’s not nice to beat up a cripple.”

"I'm heading over right now." "Wade, where are you going?" Mandy asked. "There's a new lead. Tia might've been murdered." He stormed out, rage flaring. "And if I find out who did this, I'll tear them apart." I glanced at Mandy, and for a second, she looked... freaked out. What was that about? Could she have something to do with my death? When Wade got there, he watched the footage, but the person on-screen was impossible to make out. They had a helmet, baggy work pants, a big jacket—basically a walking blur with zero details.

Wade stormed over and kicked the chair in front of me. The chair crashed into the metal locker with a loud bang. I slowly lifted my head and looked at his face, twisted with anger. "Why?" I asked. "Why?" A contemptuous voice came from the doorway. Mason Vale walked in wearing a brand-new custom racing suit, casually twirling my helmet in his hands. He stopped in front of me, looked down at me, and curled his lip into a mocking smile. "Because I'm the absolute core of this team. Because I'm last year's champion.

Poor Wade was so frightened and confused that he just stood in the spot, stupefied. Noticing no reaction from Vivian, who sat on the bed with downcast eyes and utterly devoid of emotions, Edward screeched even more hoarsely, “Oh, you’re not satisfied with Wade, are you? What about those homeless filth on the streets? Wade, get out there and fetch me the most wretched, most pus-ridden hobo back here!” Wade could never do as his crazed boss asked, so the desperation and helplessness overwhelmed him into shooting Vivian a look that cried for help. “M-Miss Carraway?”