Randall Clark Armor Novels & Stories

After work, Sandra offered a tired farewell to her colleagues. She was just about to step out the door when a familiar figure blocked her path. She blinked in surprise, nearly failing to recognize him. He wasn’t in his usual sharp suit; instead, he wore a plain shirt, jeans, and a jacket, standing beside a motorcycle with a helmet in hand. The unexpected sight pulled a smile from her lips. What on earth was he up to this time? “There it is! Only Clark can make you smile like that!” Vicky remarked, secretly delighted to see Sandra’s face finally light up.

She suddenly felt a pain in her heart when she remembered that everything what they had right now was pretension. She calmed herself down so that he could not see the emotion on her face. “You should be if don’t want to get ahead of Don Warrick.” He squeezed her cheeks. “You’re really mean to me!” “Ouch, it hurts!” Meredith whined as she massages her cheeks. _________________ “G-General Marcial?” Clayton asked when he saw Barbara’s father in front of him. Randall is currently at the Cafe near BSU. He is there because someone wants him to become his son’s tutor but he didn’t expect Barbara’s father to come.

I would be the one to punish her, and when I was done, she would know her place, and do her duty until such time as the blood oath was paid. "As you wish." He rasped in a gravely voice. Randall was one of the oldest members of my pack, but also one of the sharpest. His speed rivaled the younger wolves, and he'd managed to live through every battle he'd seen. His appearance was deceaving, while he stood tall and straight, his hair had long since turned white, and his eyes had an almost milky appearance to their blue color. Many would deem him a lesser threat, so I always used him as my driver, a guard in disguise.

It felt great! Centra giggled and clapped her hands rhythmically. Clarissa’s feet moved faster, and she spun until she was dizzy. Laughing, she collapsed at Centra’s feet, feeling giddy. “So, how about that pendant?” Centra pressed. Clarissa knelt in front of her, offering her palm. Centra gave her a sideways look. “You just said you didn’t know. Did the armor grant you bravery?” “Can it do that?” Clarissa wondered. Stat increases on the armor were common, but she hadn’t even considered it until now. It would make sense with how easily she moved in it, though.

Alpha Randall was returning from a pack council meeting, with two guards trailing behind him. He had had a very long day and couldn't wait to freshen up and rest. "Alpha Randall?" someone hurriedly trailed behind him. It was Klara. He turned toward her before increasing his steps, walking away from her. "Please, just hold on." He stopped abruptly, just around Visha's chamber. "What do you want, Klara?" He asked, letting out a sharp breath.

That’s when I saw him—standing there, waiting. “Hey,” the guard called out, raising a hand. “Let me see your ID again.” Frozen, I hesitated. A flicker of panic shot through me. My cover was almost blown. But then, like a dark ghost, Randall appeared beside me—calm, commanding, unshakable. “She’s with me,” Randall said smoothly, stepping out of his sleek black car. His voice was cold and measured, like he held the whole world in his palm. His presence was a wall, a shield, a salvation. The guard faltered, his confidence slipping.

“Alright, let’s have a battle then. I’ll give you a head start of three attacks.” “There’s no need for that!” Clark said. As Andy’s father, he was definitely much more experienced than his son, but their rank was similar. Clark was only barely able to reach Advanced-Mystic rank. But his Eight Fixed Palms was strong and steady. A strong force came out of his palm, as if it could cause a tsunami. However, to his demise, Ange moved her body as if it was as light as a feather.

“That is why I am giving you another chance Jon, join me. What adventures and conquest we could have this time. Just like the good old days Jon, c’mon what do you say? Come to your senses man. Leave the keepers.” “You already know the answer, Del. I was hoping that you, would come to your senses.” “I guess you leave me no choice.” “I Guess not del.” Clutching the book in his left arm, he lifted his right arm over his left shoulder. A light spark from his shoulder, from it he pulled down his arm now armed with a sword. He lounged forward his sword above him bringing it down to Randell's head. CLANG!! Randell blocked the sword, both his hands crossed above him showing metal gauntlets now cover

Therefore, he brought along the top combat power of his gang. "Clark, please explain to me what happened to my daughter," Harriett implored. Clark was the leader of Scarlet Star, and Harriett received him warmly. He even prepared a meal for him. Clark appeared to be around fifty years old, but his muscular physique was comparable to that of a young man's. Compared to the refined Harriett sitting opposite him, Clark seemed much more rugged and was even more imposing.

"You're feeling insecure. I understand that. But don't build a mountain out of a molehill just because you're standing at the bottom of one." Clara's jaw tightened. "It doesn't matter what you say," Clara said, and she straightened and moved toward me and her hand came out to link through my arm with the proprietary ease of someone reclaiming what they believe is theirs. "Randy and I are getting married again. Which gives me every right to be concerned about who he's spending time with." She looked at Angel. "So you better stay away from him."