Peter Hale Novels & Stories

“Either way, it looks like you’ll be staying with us for a while longer yet.” “That man... The one with dark hair who was sitting at the end of the table. He knows who I am.” Ethan runs a hand over his full lips, then leans back in his chair. “Aye. I think so too.” “Who is he?” His expression darkens. “His name is Blake. He’s the most dangerous male in the Kingdom of Wolves, and he has the power to either help us, or destroy us. There’s a feast tonight. I’ll speak with him then. And I need you to come with me.”

The fathers stood back like spectators, a sense of detached amusement hidden beneath their cool expressions. Because Frederick Hale wasn’t just anybody. No, he was far more than that. He was the Prime Minister of Oil and Gas, a man with influence so vast it could make or break careers, destroy corporations, and manipulate entire industries. And he was one of the people responsible for making their H²O engine disappear, a critical piece of technology that had vanished. Ichiro, still perfectly composed, adjusted his cufflinks with the elegance of someone who’d been to this rodeo a thousand times. "Sued, you say?" he inquired, his voice smooth as silk, each word dripping with an air of polite c

However, to find him, I must remember his name. “What was his name, Helen? Do you remember his name?” I asked my wolf but I forgot she was so whacked about him that she too had forgotten his name. I shook my head and broke out of my thoughts and got out of that royal-looking bathroom. This was so expensive which made me think if alpha Gerald customized his toilet seat with gold. I could not help but let a chuckle slip from my mouth. I blew dried my hair and put on a red pajama set. I decided to take a break and enjoy my meal in my comfortable PJs before I had to go back to my role as the daughter of Luna Kendall Clausen.

I mulled that over, still feeling sick, when Demetrius suddenly stopped, even as Charlotte growled like a cornered dog. "Sydlynn Hayle." I knew his voice, turned to find Piotr Wilhelm, former lieutenant to the original queen and not my biggest fan, standing behind us. Smiling and glaring at the same time, dark hair perfectly styled, tall, lean body dressed in the finest Victorian apparel. And he wasn't alone. A dozen vampires lined the hall, more appearing in front of us as I turned my head to watch them flicker from shadow, a gathering from the past like some freakshow theatre production gone horribly wrong.

I asked him, noticing his hesitation as his eyes darted between Sharma and me. "You mean that psychopath of a butler? The bald-headed assassin?" Sharma's words took me by surprise, and her apparent anger was hard to ignore. "Yeah, your butler wasn't who you thought he was. He attacked me last night and tried to kill me. Can you believe that?" She chuckled, leaving me baffled as I turned to Ryan, expecting an explanation. "She is right, Alpha Hawthorne," Ryan confirmed, echoing Sharma's allegations. Despite the evidence presented, I found it difficult to believe what I was hearing.

he muttered grabbing Spade's attention again, he looked at Matteo briefly before his eyes set on the road again. "Nathan Miller was not the middle man, nobody knows who he is, the only person that knows who what he looks like is Greg and Van Horne" he added and Spade just sighed out This was another dead end on this case. "So what? That's it, nothing else"? He asked and Matteo just sighed out, nodding his head. "That's all I could get for now but I'll keep looking" he muttered and Spade took his left hand off the steering and scratched his beard

“We’ve still got a traitor to take down tonight. That’s what matters.” The briefing room felt too bright when we stepped inside. Investigator Hale was already there — a small, no-nonsense woman in her fifties with eyes that seemed to cut straight through bullshit. She stood, shook Killian’s hand with a firm grip, and gave me a quick nod. “Hale,” she said. “Let’s not drag this out. Walk me through the timeline. Start to finish.”

“Now.” The officer hesitated, flipping through a file on his desk. “Mr. Hale is being held for questioning. There’s… serious evidence against him.” “What kind of evidence?” Leo demanded, stepping forward. The officer sighed, clearly uncomfortable. “There’s video footage and several witness statements linking Mr. Hale to the death of a woman named Miranda Vegas.” Jace froze. “Miranda who?” “Miranda Vegas,” the officer repeated. “Her body was found two nights ago outside a storage facility near the docks. We traced fingerprints, and his came up in the system from his military record.”

“You said it yourself he wants control, right? Then we feed him the illusion of it. Make him think he’s still one step ahead while we turn the game underneath him.” Adrien studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “You’re learning.” Ryan arched a brow. “I’ve had a good teacher.” Adrien turned back to the laptop the ghost of that smirk fading. “If we’re doing this we need Hale He’s the only one who can move evidence quietly enough to protect our side.” Ryan nodded. “Call him.” Detective Hale arrived an hour later, damp from the drizzle outside and carrying the kind of exhaustion that came from knowing too much. He looked at Adrien, then at Ryan, then

Peter sat down slowly. “He’s starting to think.” “Is that dangerous?” Peter smiled faintly. “No. It’s actually good.” His subordinate hesitated for a few seconds before finally speaking again. “But there’s one more thing, sir.” Peter raised his eyes. “Your name has started appearing in several old transaction trails connected to the Blackwood company.” Peter’s expression sharpened slightly. “Who found it?” “Not the police.” “Then who?” The man took a slow breath. “Darius Harrington.”