Nathan Scott Oth Novels & Stories

Scott replied. Little did they know, this scene was just seen by the approaching Nash. They looked like a newly dating couple. Nash's expression turned dark, and there was a hint of murderous intent in his eyes. "Nina is really excelling at her recruitment efforts, isn't she?" Nash muttered to himself sarcastically. "First, she's off consulting lawyer, and now she's here enjoying a date with Scott!" Nash then muttered these two names, Scott and Zac. "Scott, could it be the same person as the one Nina called Zac?" He was not sure, but the more he looked, the more it seemed likely.

The warmth around the table vanished the moment the scout finished speaking. Rowan was already on his feet. "Show us." The young scout nodded and immediately led the way out of camp. The others exchanged uneasy glances before following, leaving the journal and Lucien's scattered notes exactly where they were. Whatever had made those footprints couldn't have been more than a few minutes ahead of them. The eastern edge of Orathyn was quieter than the rest of the city. Crumbling walls leaned into one another, and the narrow streets were almost hidden beneath fresh snow. When the scout finally stopped, he stepped aside without saying a word.

"Listen, Owen! I'm sure you already know who he is. He's not an ordinary human, he's a descendant of a Great God. He won't die that easily, he will somehow survive. So, believe me!" Owen was silent, tears welling up in his eyes. He didn't know how to believe it. However, remembering that Nathania possessed such immense power made the conviction in his heart begin to emerge. "Your Majesty, I hope you are well. We will definitely find you!" Owen wiped his tears and spurred his horse to get away from this very dangerous place following Samuel who was in front of him. ***

Nathan didn’t think much of Alexander avoiding his gaze, assuming it was just his usual cold demeanor. Besides, he had more immediate concerns. He sauntered over to Ophelia, who was arranging the flowers by the window, a thoughtful crease between her brows. “Mother said you were taking care of these two cousins,” Nathan said, voice lilting with teasing emphasis on the last word. “You sure you don’t want a medal?” Ophelia looked up, arching an eyebrow, letting the gentle curve of her painted lips reveal amusement despite her inward irritation.

Nathan got to the river first then stood on his back legs with his head high looking at the Moon. He let out a painful howl that made Anita ran faster to investing gate when she came to view the sigh of her mate like that broke her heart, she wished that the Silver Sands pack shouldn’t have come now because it only opened an old wound to Nathan. In no time the rogue warriors were at the river to investigate, but not only that, they were ready for a fight.

Scott shouted, "She makes me sick to my stomach!" Hot tears rolled down my eyes as Nathan helped me up however Scott was not done. He took the report from Nathan's hands. "You so badly wanted an autopsy! Now look! Here you go!" he groaned while slapping the paper on my face.

Nathan stood up. He was thirty-six years old, the oldest veteran defenseman on the roster, and the alternate captain. His face was a map of scar tissue from fifteen seasons in the dirty areas of the ice. He had an Alpha profile that smelled like old copper and burnt coal, a dark, heavy presence that usually quieted a room by just entering it. Nathan walked across the rubber floor, his skates clicking in a slow, deliberate march toward my stall. The rest of the roster watched him move. The rookie held his breath.

“And this picture is older than both of us.” Ethan’s hands shook as he set it down. “He has been lying to me for decades.” Footsteps sounded behind us. Theo entered, his expression already grim. He took the photograph from the desk, studied it carefully, then exhaled slowly. “I was hoping I was wrong,” he said. I looked at him. “About what.” Theo lifted his eyes to mine. “Scottie is a Nephilim.” The words felt like another layer of the ground collapsing beneath us.

"Nathan's not just after revenge. He wants to prove he's stronger than you. Wants everyone to see the great Alpha King fall." I turned to Taylor. "What do we know about Nathan's location?" "Western territory," Taylor said. "The old Silverthorne lands. Our scouts reported unusual activity there three days ago but we thought it was related to the border attacks." "How many fighters does he have?" "At least five hundred. Sun Pack wolves mostly, plus mercenaries he's hired. Jacob's been feeding him information about our defenses, our numbers." I was going to enjoy fucking killing Jacob. Slowly. "We march tonight," I decided. "Take everyone we have. This ends now."

Nathan's voice was light, his smile thinly veiled, hand extended in greeting. Jethro's eyes seared into the hand resting on my shoulder, his glare scorching. Brushing off Nathan's gesture, Jethro said icily, "Who are you? Why are you here?" Seeing Jethro's hostile demeanor toward Nathan, I felt my mood lift slightly. "Nathan Redfield, General Manager of Nexus. Mr. Jethro, we are bound to cooperate in the future." Despite Jethro’s frigid attitude, Nathan's demeanor remained cordial.