Rafe Khatchadorian Novels & Stories

“I trust you'll say nothing about this to my Dad. “I saw nothing, sir. Ain't a snitch.” “That's clever.” I nodded. Rafael added, “And I’m not easily rattled, sir.” I shook my head. “This isn’t about fear. It’s about silence.” He turned toward me fully then. “Explain.” “His name's Khad, and he doesn’t tolerate noise,” I said calmly. “No questions. No commentary. No heroics. You observe. You stay behind me. While I speak, you watch. And don't say anything unless I ask.”

Azraiel leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly. He rolled his shoulders back and tried to relax…but he couldn’t. He has been extremely busy all day…trying to pull strings and gather information about potential threats. He was also trying to dig into the H.O.P.E. mission that was in operation when Charlotte was in school. The voice that she kept hearing definitely has something to do with that bloody program.

I can feel my face heat up red as they nod and turn off a machine or two. “ Thank you Madam Charlotte, would you like to see what we were going to do? He does need surgery because he’s left kidney is damaged and it looks like his knee bone is broken” the doctor explained to me as Creed walks over to me with a chair so I can sit down. “ Can you fix it? I mean can you help him?” I asked pulling my legs to my chest

Katerina got up from the couch, shaking her head in both disgust and annoyance as she walked toward the bar. One of the girls walked toward our table, but both Ezra and Diego didn’t pay her a second glance. “They smell like aphrodisiac,” Ezra stated, and Diego shook his head. “Forcing their pleasure out of them. Something that my father has as a profession. It is a shame that he doesn’t see it as wrong and doesn’t have anyone to tell him off, don’t you think?” Diego said, standing up as he looked at the woman, Katerina. “What are you going to do?” I asked, and he looked back at Cosimo. “On my mark, we are going to leave…”

"Tade, please... stop, I beg you..." But Tade is far from finished. "You have systematically ruined every single alliance we had!" he screams, his chest expanding as his wolf rumbles. "I warned you about Rapha's sharp mind. He carries the exact same dangerous brilliance as Nyara. But you dismissed him as a useless, plain rogue and convinced me to throw him to the wolves! Look what happened! Rapha is Kaelum! He is the most powerful black-market weapon designer in the world, and we did not even know it!"

She tapped on his username. Kai Rivera. 27. Freelance photographer and graphic designer. His profile was full of moody, high-quality shots — rainy city streets at night, dramatic portraits, and occasional gym selfies that showed off his tall, athletic build, tattoos snaking down one arm, and sharp, intense features. Dark hair, strong jaw, and eyes that seemed to stare straight through the screen. She replied to his comment: laravale: “Dangerous how? 😌” He responded almost immediately.

Observing Ronald from her position, Boma's heart clenched with an unsettling mix of apprehension and yearning. She understood the magnitude of his impact on Donovan's personality and behavior. Her silent wish lingered in the air—a hope that Donovan would realize his true self, liberated from the domineering traits ingrained by his grandfather's guidance. Ronald's presence at the ceremony served as a stark reminder of the formidable force that had shaped Donovan's character. Boma, caught between love for Donovan and an earnest desire for a different future, silently prayed for a transformative realization that might liberate Donovan from the grip of his grandfather's influence, allowing their

I don’t know what’s going on in that head of his, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that Rafael doesn’t play checkers, he plays a long, dangerous game of chess. And he’s always three moves ahead. I’ve seen a lot of Alphas in my time, but none like Rafael. He clawed his way from nothing, barefoot on broken streets, begging for food, fighting for scraps, bleeding to survive, and he still came out on top. Took Redmoon Pack from dust to dominance. Made rogues whisper our name like a damn curse. Built schools, fed our people, took in every orphan he could find and made them feel safe. He no longer have a family, so he made this pack his family. Every single soul. That’s who he is.

Rafe opened a folder. And Tim Black, the most feared man in Red City, sat down and began to dismantle Marcus Webb’s world one piece at a time.

He looked like what he was: a refugee from one war, drafted into another. He changed quickly into dark trousers and a simple black sweater from the closet. The clothes were expensive, unfamiliar, but they fit perfectly. Of course they did. Rafe’s efficiency was terrifying. He found the study down a wide, gallery-like hall lined with stark modern art. The door was ajar. Inside, Rafe was not behind the massive desk of black fossilized stone. He was standing before a large, interactive screen mounted on the wall, its glow painting his sharp features in cool light. Data streams, maps with glowing nodes, and financial charts scrolled in a silent, complex ballet.