Off Balance Series Novels & Stories

I said leaving no room for argument, even though my heart was doing something stupid and fast in my chest that had nothing to do with being flat about anything. I focused on keeping my expression neutral, the same face I used to give job interviewers back when I actually had to convince people I was qualified for things. Micah—or was it Michael, God, I really needed to figure that out, maybe I could just ask someone on the roster later without making it weird—raised an eyebrow. "A one time thing?" "Yes." "Funny, it didn't feel like a one time thing to me." He leaned against the boards, arms crossing over his chest, way too relaxed for someone who was supposed to be intimidated by his new coa

She didn't answer but she didn't drop either. Five minutes. The buzzer went and we both straightened up and I heard Connie make a sound that she immediately swallowed. The balance platform was last before the run. It was narrow and raised and the moment we both stepped up the board shifted under the combined weight and found its equilibrium slowly, reluctantly. I went still, Connie went still too beside me, her arms out slightly and her eyes forward. Mark and James had gone quieter. Commentary dropping to something more focused because the room had gotten that way too.

"How's your company's latest project going? The merger hasn't held anything up, I presume? A'A Group is very interested in getting to see a prototype once there is something ready to go." As Man went on about the new tech and his investor's interests, Alex leaned back in his seat and slipped a hand around the top of Ashly's chair. Careful that the movement remained unseen, he continued to hum and nod at appropriate points during Man's spiel. All the while, Alex gently slid a hand up Ashly's back to grip her neck. Pressing softly, he massaged leisurely circles over the pale skin along Omega's spine. Ashly's eyes widened, but she remained calm. She knew the movement was just out of her father'

“I do not know what you are talking about, sir.” “Oh really?” His voice dropped. “Your skirt last Tuesday was two inches shorter than the normal dress code, yesterday—you dropped your books in the hallway, while colliding with me, still making sure our fingers touched while I was trying to help you pick them.” He tilted his head. “To mention a few, Miss Marsh.” Then he tilted his head and smiled again. “You wanted the attention, now you’ve gotten it, you think I don't notice a setup, little rebel? I’m better at playing these games.”

Noise filled my ears as the people all around tried to comfort the grown man who was crying like a child. I took in my final breath when a sudden crackling sound filled my ears. A second later, a familiar voice echoed in my mind. "Ding! An empty promise has been detected. Fair Balance System activated. Calculating… The transfer of years of life is complete. Since the debtor has not repaid the debt in full, forced repayment measures have been initiated." At some point, the excruciating pain disappeared, leaving behind a bone-gnawing itch all over my body. After enduring it with great difficulty, I opened my eyes.

But now, the person he cared about was clearly no longer me. I slumped on the floor in despair and let those men who called themselves photography lovers point their lenses at me. "Come on. Pose more shamelessly." "Change it up." Flash after flash stabbed at my body. I had gone numb. One more lens no longer mattered. Vivian leaned against Julian's shoulder and pretended she could not bear to watch. "Stella's expression is so twisted. It ruins the shot. Maybe stop." Only when she called for it did Julian grant me mercy and stop them.

The next time I saw Chase Reed, it was at a little guesthouse in the Rockies. I'd just finished feeding my son breakfast and was wiping his mouth when Chase came out from the kitchen carrying a tray. Our eyes met. I saw his pupils dilate in shock. Three years had passed. His skin was weathered and reddened from the sun, his face covered in stubble, with new lines etched around his eyes from the harsh elements. Then his gaze landed on my son. He froze mid-step, his eyes going wide with disbelief before flooding with joy. He hurried over, his eyes locked on my little boy. "Sweetheart... can you say 'Daddy'?" I lowered my head, turned sideways, and pulled my son protectively into my arms

comments a new presence, the whole table stands in respect to Alpha Franklin, well except some obvious personalities who were in a higher rank than Romero. “I am still in charge Andrew, don’t you think so” Romero says as he walks closer to his son, when he reaches Andrew, he begins massaging his shoulders. “you know the tournament is coming up soon and we need Andrew to be who he is on the field” with that said Franklin taps his son on his shoulder and shows him the door.

The room registered it the way rooms registered unexpected honesty. Then Ortega stood up. Second year linebacker. He'd said approximately twelve words all season in any team context. He was not a speaker. He was a player, the kind who communicated on the field and let the field be the whole of it. He stood up. He said: "I don't care what anyone does off the field. Reyes wins us games. Whitfield wins us games. That's my whole position." He sat back down. The room was quiet for a second.

I ignored them for now, focusing on Nova. She tilted her head slightly, green eyes sharp and calculating. “Observing isn’t the same as interfering,” she said. “You want to see strength? Watch carefully.” I crouched low, muscles coiled, and watched. The young Omegas moved through a series of exercises: jumps, careful navigation of hidden obstacles, silent coordination, quick responses. Nova guided them with precision, correcting mistakes, praising successes, always calm, always in control.