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“What can you do alpha, are you going to hit me” Elena challenged him and Zane went closer to her. “ I can do more than hit you but first I need to get rid of this dress,” Zane said with a sinister smirk and within seconds he riped Elena's dress in two halves Elena was taken by this move that for a second she didn’t know how to behave or want to do. Reality sank into her when she realized that she was naked only in her bra and panty

Maya dislikes it, but she lets it stand. Mortimer does not go clean. Military experience leaves him with the one thing the others lack: an exit he never records. The team enters the site and finds half the rooms already stripped. A meal abandoned. Equipment missing. The unmistakable shape of a fallback already in motion. Mortimer smells something wrong in the morning and starts running before Maya’s net closes. Her plan says he is here. Reality presents an empty chair. There is no panic. Maya has the second road. She reads the live intercepts and strips away the obvious destinations.

I just hope Zarseti is doing something to stop this before Jartre kills us all. “Not this shit again!” Morrtemis cusses. Whips made from the earth erupt from her hands and wrap around Jartre like vines. She pulls them tight, doing her best to contain him but Jartre’s energy only continues to grow strong, snapping his binds, forcing Morrtemis to continue to make new ones. “For fuck sake Jartre! Snap the fuck out of it! You’re killing innocent people!”

He likes to refer to them a bottom feeders, vultures or the classic 'fucking freaks' depending on his mood. With all the media coverage that the case had garnered nation wide, he had hordes of people beating the doors down to see it. Everyone had wanted to see the infamous 'murder motel' where the crazy man and his deranged son had kidnapped all those women and then brutally murdered them. Everyone's favorite place to check out was the old well that had held all the bodies of the victims.

I gasped. Lunar Eclipse was more of a pack of mercenaries. No one knew the real names of the pack members, as they all had some sort of code name. The Alpha of the pack was known as Shadowstrike. Shadowstrike was considered the ultimate warrior, with skills that a normal werewolf didn’t possess. He could strike his opponents down with a single blow, but it wasn’t just because he was strong. There was a rumor that he could expel some sort of energy in his attacks that could knock someone down without ever touching them.

His fingers drummed against the windowsill, the rhythm growing faster, betraying the unease he refused to name. His warriors, known for their flawless tracking skills, scoured every inch of land. Yet no matter how many warriors or hounds he sent out, they all circled back to the same place—the abandoned well. His frustration boiled over as he paced furiously around it, refusing to believe that the corpse inside was mine. Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, he snapped his fingers. "I see it now! She must've used a Burrowing Technique—that's why the hounds keep leading us here."

Then, he looked into the darkness of the room's corner, missing the cold touch that made him feel alive. He couldn't choose. But he had to do something. Carefully, he slid out of bed, trying not to wake Kit. He grabbed his phone and crept into the living room, closing the bedroom door softly. His mind raced back to their daytime research. They had found an occult forum discussing the legend of Morat. An anonymous user had mentioned a "Ritual of Old Blood Banishment," but the details were deliberately concealed, only stating that it required "cursed blood" and "pure intention."

among the signs are unnatural strength, ability to heal from the most serious wounds, a quick temper. All these described Dimitri perfectly. I abruptly shut down the computer, remembered that my search results could be seen. I turned it on again, deleted all my searches, then slumped against my chair. I wished there was someone with me, maybe Amelia, who would tell me that I was being silly. Werewolves, vampires, fairies, goblins and the lot didn't exist in real life. Or did they? With a groan, I buried my face in my hands. My mind was in a whirl. I didn't know what to think. Already I could feel the beginnings of a headache.

I said as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "I love mint choco." He said and I stopped. "Disgusting!" I hissed and he laughed. "Why is that disgusting? It's good." "I feel like brushing my teeth when I eat that flavour." I shook my head. "Do you have a pet?" He asked. "I have a black labrador at home. How about you?" "Really? I have a labrador too!" He said and I turned to him completely surprised. "Millie.. her name." "Blue.. his name." I turned to him and looked at him straight into his eyes.

The day I discover that my husband, Nick Goldberg, is cheating on me, my severe depression drives me to climb up to the rooftop. My older sister, Natalie Swift, stabs him before dragging him over to apologize to me. From then on, Natalie moves in with us and becomes his strictest watchdog. Every time he so much as twitches, Natalie is even more anxious than I am. With Natalie keeping watch over Nick, he genuinely changes. He deletes all of the female contacts he has and comes back home on time. It's to the point that he even reports to me when he's just going out to throw the trash. Because of this, I think that this battered, broken marriage of ours is finally getting a fresh start. Ho