Oh No There's Melanie Novels & Stories

she wails hysterically, loud enough for Elle and Theo to hear at the other end of the courtyard. "It's not about her," I say, but I can tell she doesn't believe me. I don't say it very convincingly. "BULLSHIT!" Melanie screams, pushing me away while she runs towards the school, her closest friends filtering out of the courtyard to follow her into the school. I turn around and instantly find the emerald green eyes watching me curiously. We stare at each other for a few moments before she is distracted by something Theo says and has her complete attention on him once again.

It’s Melanie. I sigh. “I have to get this.” “I’ll see you later.” She winks and struts out of the kitchen. I watch her leave and then take a breath before answering. “What is it, Melanie?” “Well, hello to you, too, mister.” “What do you want? Is Patrick there?” “No.” She sounds offended. “Patrick is not here. You don’t need to send your fucking henchman. I’m leaving.” “Oh.” My shoulders drop an inch. “Great.” She snorts. “Well, don’t sound too happy it. Christ, Xavi”

Maxine The sound of my heels clicking against the cold stone floor echoes through the dimly lit corridors as I make my way deeper into the hidden depths of the palace. Each step feels heavier than the last, the weight of my plans pressing on me, demanding my full attention. My mind races as I recall the conversation I had earlier with Marcus. The alliance between him, Selena, and myself is growing stronger, but there's something else that gnaws at me—Melanie. That damn woman. Her very existence stands as a barrier between me and the power I crave, and every moment that passes, the more I feel the pressure to destroy her.

He was staring at the doorway of the outpost. A figure was standing there. It wasn't Xander. It was Melanie Sinclair. She was covered in soot, her dress torn to rags, and she was holding a heavy, black briefcase—the one Silas had kept in the van. Her eyes were wide, vacant, and she was covered in someone else's blood. "He didn't make it to the room," she whispered, her voice a hollow shell. "Who?" I gasped, clutching my baby tighter. "Who didn't make it, Melanie?"