Olympe Maxime Novels & Stories

"First, she doesn't have a witness, now she's claiming Maxwell was with someone who doesn't exist, It's very suspicious, don't you think?" "I swear on my foster father's grave, " I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "Maxwell was with an omega that night. " An elder leaned forward. "Describe the girl, " he said. can identify her. " "We'll bring all the omegas who match that description, and you “She’s young, probably eighteen to twenty, average height, shy and petite, wide eyes, with blonde hair and the white strands of an omega, her hair stops at bra length” I tried to

We walked to the club entrance and were stopped by a guy who looked a bit older than us. “ids please?” I didn’t have my id and I knew the club was for 21 and above so it would have been useless. Olivia smirked “excuse me? I’m Olivia Lopez and this is Camila Santiago” the guy’s eyes widened and he apologized profuse. He quickly let us in.

It was a deadly skill and one which can only be used by a swordmaster. A swordmaster? Ugo's lips parted with smiles. Her father was the master of all masters. She hasn't seen anyone in the village that can match his skill. Even though he had surrendered his weapons to the King and had picked up farm work from the dust, he still was the best. He will always be, despite the nickname, Mmiri (water), or whatever tag the village people have placed on him.

Max's thought was more frustrating than his words. '"Oh it's okay, I am fine now. you can stand in my place. I have to go find my friend excuse me !'. Max couldn't figure out how to stop her why his charm is not working on her. Olivia was about to leave suddenly stumbled but our hero was quick enough doesn't let her fall. They are now standing so close that they can hear each other's heartbeats. Olivia stared straight into max's eyes those blue eyes are so enchanting, his blue eyes were seas where sorrow sailed.

“But it seems to me that she is carrying an Alpha blood.” “You…” “Alpha Dante D’Angelo, my mate, Valerie Morozov.” He said, looking down at me. “Put the knife down, Valerie. You are going to end up hurting more than just yourself with these stupid reflexes that you’re having…”

Levi. He walked back to where he had left his queasy chauffer about fifteen minutes ago. He got inside the sleek black Mercedes and sighed in despair. He felt angrier than hurt. The moment he saw the man at her house he left immediately. His eyes turned red and his blood boiled. He still remembered her small breaths and her heartbeat fasten when he pulled her closer. At that time every single part of his body wanted to rip off those classless clothes of hers and devour her, both flesh and blood. He still felt that now. He wished he would've just kissed and bitten those full luscious lips.

I ask, bracing myself for more revelations. Bill takes a deep breath. "Max's real name is Luka Moreau. He was part of the mafia in France but wanted out. He didn't want to die or put his family at risk, so he faked his death, changed his identity to Max Laurent, and came to the US to be a designer."

Logan I went over to help Olivia climb onto Maximus. She hesitated, staring at the massive black wolf beneath her. “What if I’m too heavy for him?” she asked nervously. I looked at her like she was insane. Her body was perfect. Yeah, she had curves, but they fit her beautifully. Maximus snorted while Ethan’s voice echoed through our mindlink. “She has no idea how gorgeous she is. Goddess, I want to shift back and have her on top of me instead.”

Her pulse raced. Her breath quivered. Her wolf-less body wavered between obedience and terror. Yes. Yes. Bend. She lifted the blade. Rosalyn frowned, startled. “Maxine? What are you…?” Maxine lunged. But just as the blade grazed Rosalyn’s wrist… a sharp CRACK erupted. Maxine collapsed, unconscious. Someone stood behind her. I felt it before I saw it. A familiar signature of rage and blood. Lorenzo.

Isabella's POV The room erupted into low murmurs. Heads turned everywhere, eyes wide with shock. Massimo’s hand tightened on my thigh under the table, fingers digging in just enough to remind me exactly who I belonged to. I glanced at Massimo. His face looked calm on the surface, but I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. He didn’t like being challenged. Not here. Not in front of all these powerful people. “Fifteen million,” Massimo said calmly, his voice cutting through the whispers like a knife.