Oliver Oken Novels & Stories

He stopped but didn’t look at me for a moment. “Come off it! You have to know who I am.” He sighed, and although I had seen his face for only a short while and knew nothing about him, I could imagine he was rolling his eyes. He whipped around and a shockwave ran through my body. “I am Oliver. King of the Lycans.” He growled before whipping right back around and dragging me to the camp. “Put her with the others.” He ordered and as they dragged me over to the cages, I could finally see that four other packs were being held by these beasts. I had figured out who their leader was. Now all I had to do was figure out how the hell I could get out of here.

"Stop wriggling. “ “I’m not. “ “You most certainly are. How did it go?" "I thought you came to seduce me, not talk to me." "If I wanted to seduce you and get you out of your clothes, I'd go about it differently. Stop trying to distract me. " “Am I succeeding? “ “Almost.“ The lord relaxed back against him. "That’s cruel, Oliver.“ He said lightly but then continued, more serious. “I met Owen. That's one of the men we met back in Kent. "

I just need you to see what a joke these two are. "Was there something you two needed?" Once again, it was Jen who couldn't leave well enough alone. She just couldn't seem to help herself, and he wondered how blind the other two were that they couldn't see what was really going on here. Since Kerry seemed to have gone mute in the last five minutes, he figured it was up to him to bring the shit out in the open. He'd lost interest in his little experiment already. He'd expected more from his opponents than to be facing off with fucking middle-schoolers.

Oliver's memory was of a teenage boy from years ago. Ares smiled again, "Do you remember if I used to live in Vermont?" Ares added another clue. Ares wanted to introduce himself, but he wanted to have a little fun with someone who once knew him. After all, Mr. Oliver was a significant memory, and Ares had been eager to meet the man for a long time. However, he always refrained from doing so to keep Keyara. If circumstances were different, Ares would have happily visited Mr. Oliver.

He smirked and leaned back on the chair, “A bit small for the ruler of the largest pack in the realm, don't you think?” “I wouldn't do that if I were you.” Keyleth stepped to my side, her arms folded against each other. “Tell us about the rot and we might just let you live.” “What shall I call you?” The wolven asked again, the smirk on his face dropped. “Oliver. Just Oliver.” — “Koren?” The word rolled off Keyleth's tongue as the male looked with obvious annoyance. “Soren.” He snapped at her, turning a sharp gaze towards me. “Soren stris, the dark wolven rises, and the realm falls.”

I thought I would pick you up later. Kristen Oliver crossed his legs and looked proud. 'Why can't I come? I'm MIss.Oliver from TNK Group. Of course, I'm here to fight for your power. '

“Yeah, it’s sad that she uses her gift in such a selfish way. I’m just glad I don’t drink. Otherwise I probably wouldn’t have been able to stop.” “More of a man than me, I’d say.” Oliver’s face lit up with a sudden idea. He reached out his hand to James. “Let’s start over, shall we? Oliver Burton of London.” James chuckled softly. “James Olympia of . . . Albuquerque, New Mexico.” “I see the possibility of a good friendship in our future.” “Yeah.” He nodded. “Me too.”

Until… "Hello Miss Olwen, we've worked hard to find you." The familiar voice of a man Olwen knew spoke up. Instantly freezes Olwen's entire body. She turned her wide eyes to stare at the person in front of her. Olwen recognized this as a trusted subordinate of Mr. Kent. Behind him were four other men. Everyone looks big and muscular. And of course, their appearance is very scary. "Tom..."

"Remember Kenan and his partner? He’s been waiting for a chance to strike at Derek Quinton for a long time, and I’ve given it to him." Oliver’s lips thinned into a mirthless smile. He had already heard this from Nikolai, but hearing it from Thomas’s own mouth was a different kind of satisfaction. It was the sound of a man who thought he was a predator, unaware that he was already in the trap. "And what is his role?" Christina asked.

I don't think arrows twitch like that. That night, Oliver lay in his small, cramped apartment. The rent was overdue. The student loan emails were piling up. He needed an escape. He pulled out his phone and opened Tinder. He didn't use his real face, just a photo of his torso in a tight t-shirt. His profile name was simply "Oli." Swipe left. Swipe left. Swipe left. Then, he paused. A profile popped up. User: X. 28 years old. There was no face. Just a photo of a man's chest and abs, taken in a mirror. The body was incredible, broad shoulders, defined obliques, and veins running down muscular arms. He was wearing dark sunglasses in the second photo, sitting by a pool at night.