Novel & Cerita One Archer

lucky him! Archer, being the son of the present Beta male held the position of the future Beta of their pack, had short, spiky sandy brown hair, green hazel eyes, a built body, dressed in a white shirt that hugged his body, showing off his belly abs, black jean jacket with a pair of black boots. Archer was also mated but to a male and the two loved each other dearly, not Minding the fact that they were the same sex. Karenina, the mother of their little group had short red hair that fell to her shoulders, greyish orbs, wearing a red top, black jeans, and red shoes, Karenina had also found her mate while their other friends, Jenny and Chris died a year ago from longing.

He stated plainly and I nodded, not wanting to speak to him. “You will work with my team of architects and ensure that this project is a succ-” I chuckled, interrupting him. “Something funny, architetta?” He cocked a brow, unimpressed. Architetta. There he goes again, the way he says it is almost sinful drenched with that Italian accent. The first time he used that word, we were confined to the four walls of his office, but now that we're in a much bigger space, it doesn't lessen its impact.

I tugged my hoodie tighter around me and looked around, feeling a little out of place. Then I saw him. Or rather, I saw his name. The word KING was printed in bold white letters across the back of his dark jersey. It was impossible to miss. Archer moved across the ice like he was born there — fast, smooth, effortless. The way his body shifted and turned, the way the muscles in his arms flexed when he swung his stick… it was kind of hard not to stare. I told myself I wasn’t staring. Just observing. Like a normal person would.

Her fingers outlined the horrible scars with ghost touches, and for the first time in my life, I felt okay when someone did that, and I did not freak out. “What caused this one?” She asked tracing the circular one that was on my abdomen towards the left, right where my waist ended. “A poisoned shaft. It embeded from my back…” I held her hand and made her touch the spot where the arrow had appeared from, “To my front.” A soft gasp ripped out of her. “That must have been painful.” She said in a soft voice, sympathy, utter empathy, and compassion dripping on her tongue. I hummed my response, remembering the horror of it as the previous underboss disguised the assassination for the day in an arc

Archer was the first one to slowly get up before he helped Beam who has been avoiding looking at him with a flushed face. ****😊😊****

he said I know Michael answered, but I didn’t hear him. I was too busy gawking. Archer was again just as tall as his brothers and broad. He had silvery, slate-coloured hair. It was stunning. He wore it short like his brothers, yet he had the top part of his hair, the longer part tied back out of his eyes.

I enter this room with Arthur, his eyes telling me it is gonna be fine but I really hate the needles. “I’m sorry, but I really afraid to do everything with needles in it, can you please accompanying me while the doctor takes my blood?” I asked Arthur and hoping he wouldn’t reject it. “Sure, you can hold my hand if it’s too hard for you to face alone. I don’t mind” he replied without any doubt. “But please, consider Vincent’s feeling, he seems to want to help but you implicitly always reject it” he whispers. I was surprised for a moment before saying that I will not explicitly show it again.

The journey is long enough, and it gives Aranjo time to think about the Emperor, the Archer God. "Are you witnessing all this? Do you enjoy it and want to fuck me? One thing is for sure, we will do it when I return to the celestial realm and I will make you prostrate asking to be satisfied!" mumbled Aranjo, addressed to the Emperor of the celestial realm. The Archer God who was always watching Aranjo through the portal mirror, felt something tickling. The taste that had been so long gone had never even approached him, even God Archer was sure that the taste was already destroyed.

"A covert team will be assembled to move toward the borders of the Outlands. They will learn how these hunters cross our territory unseen and uncover the passage they use to flee undetected." A murmur of approval rippled through the chamber, but Orion's gaze did not shift from the man leaning casually against the far wall, arms folded, eyes alight with arrogant ease. "Iver." His voice cut through the murmurs, and silence fell again. "You caught one alive. Tell me, Iver, are you certain it was a Hunter at all? Or did you drag in some frightened rat and call it victory?"

There's nothing but the ghost of his touch and the warmth of his breath. Werewolf. Luca Archer is a werewolf. And he almost bit me. And the most disturbing part of all? For one wild, insane moment before fear took over—I almost wanted him to.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​