Novel Elang Dan Emilia Novels & Stories

But then, the woman greeted Emmette first. “Good evening, Sire. My name is Chalier, the Lady of House Vermon.” She said with her cheeks glowing red. Emmette flashed his charming smile, and Chalier felt her heart skipped a beat. “I am Emmette, and this is my older brother, Edom,” Emmette said and pulled Edom towards him.

“No. I’m patient.” Emilia’s pulse hammered in her ears. She gritted her teeth, refusing to let him see how easily his words tangled her insides. To her surprise, Dante shifted the conversation, his tone almost casual. “Tell me something. What was your favorite book as a child?” She blinked, caught off guard. “What does that matter to you?” “Because I want to know the pieces of you that no one else sees,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers. Her lips parted, hesitation flickering before she whispered, “The Secret Garden. My mother used to read it to me before bed.”

That evening, Ian found Emilia in the family's private library, curled up in one of the reading alcoves with a novel and the kind of peaceful expression that had become increasingly rare since she'd started understanding the true nature of their family's political activities. At seventeen, Emilia retained the kind of natural empathy and moral clarity that their parents had spent eighteen years systematically eliminating from Ian's psychological makeup. She was everything he wasn't—genuinely caring, emotionally authentic, instinctively protective of vulnerable people rather than exploitative of their weaknesses.

~KILLIAN THANE~ Weak. Feeble. Small. If I had pressed a little harder at her neck, the sound of bones snapping would be next. The image of Emilia Monroe’s frightened eyes had refused to leave my mind since the moment in the relic room. It angered me how her scent still lingered and how my wolf had become restless with desire. A desire to claim and savage her whole till all she knew was me.

Nora said, and my attention snapped back to them. True to her words, Emilia had wet patches spreading across her chest. “I’m like a fucking cow, and my baby daddy is out here buying body wash and fainting,” Emilia scoffed before lifting one of her babies. “Daddy’s a big doodyhead, isn’t he?” she cooed. I blinked. Was that a boy or a girl? “I’m holding the girl. My boy is in the crib,” Emilia said, like she could hear my confusion.

I think of a dream house near beach, where I live with my wife and my daughter. But Emilia is hell bent on ruining everything. She knows how much I wanted a kid of my own, and as soon as I got to know about Emma I couldn't contain myself. Emilia tried to end my life and in return god gave her a piece of me. With help of my private investigator, Luca, I got to know about their whereabouts. It seems that they have started to live in a mansion. And the owner of the Mansion claims to be Emilia's father. I was surprised myself that how did this man found Emilia. Her features are similar to that man but if it were me, I would not have trusted anyone.

Present Day I’m in desperate need of a fucking cup of coffee! It's only ten o clock on a Friday morning and I have no clue how I'm gonna make it all the way to three in the afternoon. I watch as student after student approach the front of my classroom. I try my hardest to concentrate on what they are saying as they each give their thoughts on the book we have just finished reading. Many of the students end their presentation with the phrase stay golden pony boy. I am so glad that they enjoyed the book. Of course they did, a story about a gang of poor orphaned misfits fighting with the well-off rich boys from the other side of the tracks, it was a no brainer. I’m so glad that this book is par

Jack, in the same shocked, hoarse voice, said: “Greetings to you, the she-wolf of the Ruling Southern Clan, the daughter of the leader Gabriel, the heiress of the Southern lands, Princess Emilia. The she-wolf growled again, looked around the entire Great Hall, or as Mike and Jer called it - ritual, and the wolves in it - no one got up and did not dare to raise their heads. "Who is Jack talking to?" a thought flashed through Emily's head. "Who is this Emilia? Where is she? And why is everyone on their knees?" and then it dawned on her. Emilia, princess, is there something? What kind of nonsense is he talking about? The girl tried to answer the leader, but instead of words there was a roar. "Y

“I repeat, no woman on the face of this earth deserves to grace my bed” “None of them!” I snorted, my voice deep and stern. Emilia’s eyes went wide with surprise, her breath still as I starred into her eyes intensely. “All these women want just one thing”. “My money!”. “And I will make sure they get all of it.” “You know why?” Emilia shook her head, her face twisted with fear. “Because I will get all the pleasure that I want from them”. “Now, put an end to this foolishness and get back to work”.

The goat Emilia was holding was the rascal of the herd with many injuries and half a left ear. Ira watched as Emilia tended the poor animal who struggled against her wildly. She was so much changed from the dainty queen who came to her doorstep with tears in her eyes, eyes set in a pale face. Her skin was darker as compared to when she had shown up with smooth skin and her hair was braided down her back without pins. She still had sadness in her eyes from time to time but mostly she worked around the farm and in the barn to a point of exhaustion. She appeared to enjoy working but Ira knew better, she worked to distract herself during the day so that at night when she fell into her bed she wo