Novelas y relatos de Patriot Games

“Anytime now, Patty!” Leah felt like a schoolgirl, anxious to confess an infatuation. She had never felt this excited in her life. Make-believe stomach butterflies steered about in her insides. It felt exhilarating- like she was in her 20s again. Undoubtedly, it made her horny. In less than a minute, the door clicked open. By the doorway stood an unprepared Patrick Sylas. Leah took off her glasses. Beaming flirtatiously, she winked her emerald eyes. Sylas' eyes readjusted from awe to apathy.

The room erupted in cheers and I sat back down to Peter. "Now, we must prepare for our allies in the Blood Moon. If they are to be ambushed, we will be there to fight alongside of them. A war may be coming and we must be ready. From now on, we will be training from five in the morning to noon. I know it's long hours, but this will be a time to master your skills and learn new things that you want to. You must push each other and look out for the good of all. If anyone is against this, please say so now." No one said anything. Everyone stared straight at Jaedon, a determined look in their eyes. "We are strong because we stick together and know we have no weakness. We will eat good meals and h

Not until the evening, when I closed up shop and started walking back home to get ready to go to the bar for my shift. I took the long way through the marketplace. It was busy, louder than usual, and I figured there must be a festival or something. Turns out, I was wrong. People weren’t celebrating. They were gathered around a platform, where three royal officials stood dressed in silver and blue—the colors of the palace. One of them was reading from a scroll, his voice loud and slow, so even the old ones in the back could hear. “The first Mate Games in over a century…” he said, and suddenly the air felt strange.

The air is thick with the scent of desperation and greed. The room is a den of vice, with round tables scattered about, each one a battleground for high-stakes games of poker and blackjack. The green felt is worn and stained, a testament to the countless nights of excess. Stacks of cash and chips tower above the players, their faces set in determined lines, their eyes fixed on the prize. The chandelier above casts a yellowish glow, highlighting the tension etched on their faces. I spot my contact, a man, only a few years older than me, with umber skin and hazel brown eyes, his tattoos on full display.

But he had a heart of gold, he was probably the only boy I would let near my sister, ever. And that was saying a lot. “How is he?” I mused absentmindedly picking at my wilted chicken sandwich. “He’s great, he’s right here actually let me call him over,” before I could tell her not to worry because I didn’t want to disturb him. Another thing about Hiro was he was always working, always. He had a dream of starting his own game development company, and I knew he would make it one day. There was shuffling on the other side of the phone, “HIRO!”

I hope that I will still be able to remain loyal to the alpha of the gray wolf clan . Deep bass hit my befuddled brain as I paused at the entrance, taking in the scenery. The bright glare of the laser show darted along the luxurious interior of the entertainment venue and its visitors in time with the sound of hard rock. She couldn't resist and took a deep breath of the smell of nicotine and alcohol, which was deeply ingrained in the atmosphere. She glanced around the dance floor. Sweaty, heated bodies writhed and rubbed against each other to the unpretentious rhythm of the music. The main contingent was hardly twenty years old. I shifted my attention to the lounge area. Among the leather so

I called, "can everyone hear me?" A roar filled my ear. Pilots cheering. I nodded, though nobody could see. "Good." I took a deep breath. "Pilots," I began. "Family. We fight today to end a war that has been raging for ten years. This is a war of greed and wrath, and I say no more!" I took a deep breath. In, out.