Principal Yaga Novels & Stories

A dark God just walked in. My wolf, Lily, is flipping out in my mind. Prancing around in circles whining. “Mate!”

Kyoto, Japan "Please, come with us. You haven't even named your son yet. What if something happens to you?" Natasha pleaded, holding his husband's hand tightly while the other wrapped around her bump protectively. Lightning flashing, thunder erupting. Her voice was weak against the howling wind and through the torrential downpour.

It only made them want to be around the Prime the more. Heartbroken—I'm totally calling her that now—had tears running down her cheeks freely by now. Half of me couldn't believe her. The Prime Empire used girls for a living. They found it fun. Like a sport. They loved drama and stirring it. She must have been very blind to have fallen for their twisted shenanigans.

Her place as matriarch would also be reduced to a joke, as the Yimmels would certainly not listen to her afterward. Threats? Yora had certainly tried. But in all likelihood, Baba Yaga, her greatest leverage against Frank Lawrence, had been killed by the man himself. What else could she threaten him with now? "We still have a hand to play!" Nonetheless, Cadell Yimmel shook her, whispering under his breath, "Don't you remember the Southstream Lanes? Hagar is still in Laneville with our many elites! If Frank dares to attack us now, we will kill our hostages!"

"Did you happen to get a look at that fine piece of chocolate cake in the traditional garb?" I laughed. "His name is Nwabueze Oghojafor," I informed her. "I'd change my last name for him," she said, sipping from the gold-rimmed crystal champagne flute in her hand. I looked up and saw Nwabueze walking around alone. "You should go talk to him," I said. "He's walking by himself." "No way," Vega said. "He's a Beta Superior, why wouldn't you want that?" Liu asked incredulously.

“Anaya!!!” Her name echoed through the house as her dad pounded up the stairs, her 4 brothers mirroring him. She had locked herself in her room not to hide from her father but to avoid the damning fate that awaited her outside those doors. “Anaya,” her father’s voice boomed once more, then the pounding on her door came. It shook violently as her father continued to bang repetitively. “Anaya, if I call your name one more time, there will be hell to pay.”

She didn’t answer. He tilted his head. “That look he gave me. Was he your boyfriend?” Eden scoffed. “He’s the principal.” “Oh,” the boy said, grin still sharp. “Even better.” Her throat went dry. He held out his hand. “Name’s Rafe.” She hesitated, then shook it. “Eden.” “Of course it is.” “What does that mean?” “Nothing,” he said, eyes trailing down her mouth, her neck. “Just fits.”