Nala Stamps Novels & Stories

Stella said "What? You are not, Why would you want to go to the war fronts of all places?" Nathaniel asked "I am your Luna, Nathaniel Hunter, and as such it would be a great example if I left with you to war. You demand some respect, and I need to be respected as well and not just be termed as a barmaid. Besides, I want to see that thing fall to the ground with my very eyes and let's see if her alleged Majesty will save her from my wrath." Stella replied

Devllin handed me the keys and sent us on our way. I was so excited to see Sara and had lots to tell her and to catch up on. "Where do you want to go first?" asked Sara, I shrugged I had no idea what to do for a marking ceremony. "Is there an event planner around town?" I asked, "I know that perfect place" Sara replied. We drive into town and stop at one of the many strip malls. We walk inside and there were white dresses and flowers everywhere almost like your typical wedding shop. An older lady walks up to greet us, "Hello, I am Nala, how can I help you my dears?" Nala said with a smile. I explained that I am having a marking ceremony this Saturday and I have no idea what I am doing. Nala

"What's wrong with Ray, Nala?" Nala breathes the air slowly as the sweet scent that radiated from Raymond's body becomes smoother than before, she shakes and slowly she rises to her feet. "Nothing, it's just my mind. We'd better get home soon." Raymond stands by her side, Nala glances to find Raymond's agitated behavior. "Nala is disturbed by smell—," "No, let's go," Nala cuts quickly not wanting Raymond to continue with his words, Nala blushing in shame of herself. Then she realizes that Raymond didn't wear footwear until he got here, following Nala like an inexperienced stalker.

Like Frank said, his lack of respect is enough to push them away. “Her name is Stacy. She comes from the fall of Alpha Rip, where she was groomed and taught values and morals. She is ready to be submissive to her next owner.” Hank stated clearly as he tossed her into the ring. She walked nervously to the middle and just stood there. She wouldn’t have been able to see anyone so as her eyes looked around, she was seeing only black.

⸻ (Nikolai’s POV — Third Person) She shouldn’t have looked that good. Nayla was supposed to fade. Disappear. He’d done everything to make sure of it. Every application she sent? Every reference she submitted? He made calls. Blocked them all. It wasn’t personal— Not really. It was just easier if she stayed dependent. Quiet. Forgotten. But she wasn’t. She was glowing. Feral and soft, all at once. And when she said she had a job— his blood boiled. He’d given Alara the Luna title.

After some hesitation, Nala leaned on her carefully. "Aunt Lena..." Hearing Nala call her that choked her up. Chris took Alexander out of the ward. They were alone in the room. Due to chemotherapy, Nala had lost all her hair and wore a large hat. Lena patted her head while suppressing the heartache she felt and forced a smile. "Aunt, were you here the other day?" Nala asked. "What?" Lena was taken aback. Nala continued to whisper. "You don't have the same scent as her... There's no black butterfly on your hand! And, um, you're not wearing a mask!"

I said. The words landed, and for a moment, Nala looked thrown off. Like she wasn’t used to men not reacting the way she wanted. She recovered quickly, because she was trained in performance. Her chin lifted higher. Her gaze flicked toward the officers behind me, and she snapped her fingers once like she was summoning servants. “You,” she barked. “Bring my things.” One officer’s jaw clenched. He didn’t move. Nala’s eyes narrowed. “Did you hear me? I said bring my things.”

We seal our marks and finally look properly each other. “I’m Nala,” She tells me as we get dressed. “Jason,” I tell her. I hear Amilee crying on the other side of the door. “That is my girlfriend crying.” “Ex-Girlfriend,” Nala corrects me. She has her dress fixed, she throws her arms around me and smiles up at me. “That N on your neck means you belong to me and this J on my mine means I belong to you.” “She is the mother of daughter. We are blood bonded,” I tell Nala.

She then walks back down the halls, down the small crumbling stairs and into Elizabeth’s holding cell. Nala looks around the small pitiful cell room and shakes her head in disgust before her eyes land on and she walks over to Elizabeth’s small clothes trunk. She opens it and without touching what’s inside too much, carefully moves the dingy cloths within and places the Pride money satchel in the bottom. Nala then covered it back up again before making her way out of Elizabeth’s holding cell, pleased and smiling to herself, she planned to come back and add more to what she had already put in, knowing what was coming in the next couple of weeks.

The silence was the same. Everything was the same. Until it wasn’t. The cellar doors opened. Light spilled down the stairs, and I tensed, expecting guards or Xahen or some new torment I hadn’t anticipated. But the footsteps were light and quick. Nala appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a bag slung over her shoulder and something metal in her hands. She looked at me through the bars, her expression unreadable in the dim light. “You’re a mess,” she said bluntly.