Pronounce Elena Novels & Stories

Maddox glared at me with contained fury. “Logan, she has a name,” Maddox said, obviously annoyed by my insistence on calling her a renegade. “All right, what's your name, renegade?” I asked again, unable to help but smile at Maddox's grim expression. “My mate's name is Elena, and it means ‘bright light’ in Greek,” Maddox replied quickly. I raised my eyebrows. “I never thought you were the type of person to G****e the meaning of your mate's name, Maddox,” I commented.

Elena said, breathing heavily as she spoke. “What’s with this heavy breath by this time of the morning?” I asked, expecting a direct and detailed response but as I waited for her answer, her breathing over the phone gradually turned into a soft moan. Elena was at it again, she’s one hell of a lady who could do anything whilst being given a blow job including munching on an apple, having a phone conversation and even singing aloud. Who even does that? Well, I guess only Elena does. “Maybe I should call at a later time when you are done having fun,” I murmured.

“Elena.” His voice didn’t crack. Elara noticed. Elena’s eyes moved to her. “So,” she said softly, her Italian accent untouched by time. “This is the wife.” Not an insult. An observation. “Elara De Luca,” Elara replied evenly. “And you’re the woman who survived.” Something flickered in Elena’s eyes. Approval. They sat. Three chairs. One history. “You look well,” Elena said to Alessandro. “I am.” “You weren’t.” A quiet beat.

Elena didn’t even pause. Not for Lysandra. Not for the threat. Not for the quiet click of “Plan B” in motion behind her. She just adjusted her sunglasses, flipped her hair like she was tossing out someone’s entire existence, and said: “Anyway. Prada first.” Jace blinked, still staring after Lysandra like she might slither back around the corner with a knife and a Bible. “Elena,” he whispered, “she just threatened...”

53 Alex As the car glided through the bustling city streets, Elena turned to me, her expression soft yet probing. “Alex,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. “I know you’re grateful I dragged you out today, but this—this isn’t enough. You can’t just bury yourself in your room forever. What’s really going on?”

He tilted his head slightly. Elena hesitated. I could feel the uncertainty running through her. Then she lifted her chin. “Fae.” Darren’s eyebrows rose. “Fae as in…” His voice trailed off. Elena gave him a look. “Yes. That Fae.” Darren slowly nodded his head. “Okay.” He looked toward Byron. Byron’s mouth twitched. Darren immediately looked back at Elena. “Just making sure.”

“There is a young man who wants to meet you.” Elena raised her eyebrows. “Who?” “He did not mention his name.” Elena looked slightly puzzled, but she still walked toward the living room. Her steps were graceful, her face remained calm as she entered the room. “Excuse me,” Elena said when she saw Elang standing to greet her. “Who are you?” Elang immediately stood up straight. “Good afternoon, Aunt,” he said politely. “Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Elang.” “Elang…” Elena repeated softly, trying to recall whether she had heard the name before.

"What's her name?" Liam asked curiously. "Elena Lorence!" Glenn replied. Her name fell like a melody on his ears and he again felt his heart beating on that weird rhythm. "Elena!" It tasted like honey on his tongue.

Elena sighed but her ears could catch a gasp coming out from Angelo’s lips as he pressed the button to open the door of his red sport car for her. He took a glimpse of her who checking her long white earrings where she inserted the tiny speakers into. “Selena…” he paused and called Elena with her operation name. “I’ll be around you but promise you, you won’t notice me…it’ll be easier for you to work!” He wiped his nose while his other hand was still on the steer.

Author’s POV Elena’s heels were heard clicking in the hallway, dressed in a short skirt and a revealing blouse, a designer bag in one hand and the other holding a phone. A faint smile played on her lips as she read through the messages, then she dialed a number. “I will be there soon, make sure the job is done before I come,” she said, cutting the phone call. A young maid walked up to her, her hands clasped nervously. “Lady Elena,” she said, her voice shaky. “Lady Eleanor has requested your presence.”