Petra X Jesse Novels & Stories

Petra Giles, who was my understudy, leaned up and scowled. I snorted. "Nice to see you too, Petra." "I don't understand why you have to play the lead in the spring play. You're a freaking movie star now. You have Ethan Lewis. What more do you want?" The platinum blonde got on my nerves on a good day. Today wasn't the day for her insane drama. "Chill out, Petra. Shit." Jameson glanced over at me and lifted his eyebrow. "Is it fucking awesome? I heard you were in Rio last week."

DAMIAN There was a nasty sort of silence after Petra's declaration. Amelia looked dreadful. She pressed her hands between her legs, probably to stop them from shaking. Petra looked around at everyone to take in the effects her words had caused. She looked exultant like Christmas had come early. "And how did you come by that information, Petra?" I finally asked.

However, she had had so many incidents involving men and boys, that she was convinced that Tim was the best she was going to get, so she settled. She heard a sound like a wind chime. She looked up to see the petals from a rose bush falling into the swimming pool. Petals were slowly falling off from the bush, journeying their way and dropping gently on the pool. She frowned. Was she seeing things again, or were they really glowing? Grace stood up and slowly walked towards the bush. Sure enough, each time a petal landed on the surface of the water, it made a sound like a spoon on glass – resonating through the garden. “I must be dreaming,” she whispered to herself and smiled. She reached out t

Milrac asked. She looked at the network around her — she could feel it from the outside, that peripheral warmth. "Now Petra has nearly finished something that changes the Council meeting tomorrow in ways you don't yet understand." She paused. "And I need to show you what she's found before you walk into that room." Petra looked up for the first time, registering that she was no longer alone with Vessa. She saw Kael. Her expression shifted through about four emotions in quick succession — surprise, guilt, excitement, and then the overwhelming urgency of someone who has discovered something too large to contain.

“I still have contacts from the Solstice days. People who move faster than a report.” Petra had gone very still, listening to them argue about her like she wasn’t standing right there. “What if I go,” she said quietly. “Absolutely not,” Dominic said. “He thinks I’m still on his side,” Petra said. “If I show up wired, with people watching from a distance, he might say something on tape we can actually use tonight instead of six months from now. Let me do something that helps instead of just apologizing to you for the rest of my life.”

“I’m Jean. And this is my mate, Petra. She’s a witch.” Petra nudges Jean’s side a little, as if she’s embarrassed, but I just think it’s cute. Petra seems like a quiet and shy girl, with the way she packs her hands into her sleeves, and barely looks up from behind her long hair, but she seems nice. “Jean and I are twins,” Jack states proudly, and puts his arm around his sister’s shoulders. Jean raises her eyebrow at that, and punches him hard in the side, before putting her own arm around her mate.

It's so quiet that I'll be heard screaming for help. So, they'll bide their time and try to silence me when I least expect it. Which will be never. Petra is meant to be the future Luna of this pack. Traditionally, her heart is meant to belong only to the Alpha. Cheating isn't allowed, not from him or her. They're meant to be the perfect couple—the perfect example.

She arrives at eleven with two bags of groceries and a rolling suitcase and the energy of a woman who has decided that a situation requires her physical presence and has rearranged her entire week accordingly. Dominic opens the door. Petra looks at him for exactly three seconds. Then she looks at me over his shoulder. Then back at him. The full inventory of Petra Navarro, conducted at eleven at night on an estate driveway, is a thing to witness. "Dominic Sinclair," she says.

Her name is Petra. She is twenty-three years old, she has her brother's dark eyes and none of his capacity for concealment, and she is standing in my safehouse kitchen looking at the assembled room with the terror of someone who made a decision that felt necessary and has just arrived at the part where the consequences are real. She is also, visibly, not sent by Reves. Reves's people do not tremble. He selects for it. "Sit down," I say.

It was a group text from Jace. “Chrissy’s water broke. I’m packing up and heading to the infirmary, I will support you as best I can, but I need to be near her.” I reply back first, “Congrats, man, keep us updated. Give Chrissy our best.” Every word I typed dripped with jealousy. Jace and his mater were having their pup. I’d been robbed of the special moment with my mate to celebrate the news; would the other special moments be taken from me too?