Reiner Braun Novels & Stories

James clucked his tongue in annoyance. He looked at Reiner with a gaze full of distrust. It was obvious that he doubted Reiner's ability to cut hair. Indeed, when it came to fighting, Reiner was one of the best soldiers in the Ans De Lou Kingdom. That man even earned the nickname of the second best ground war commander after Greg Sehel. However, James had never seen him have any skills other than fighting so James had a hard time believing in his good friend.

I pleaded, unable to tear my eyes away. "You must mistake me for someone who cares," Gunnar brushed the outer shell of my ear with his soft lips, "keep those big eyes of yours open." "Gunnar, please. No!" "Shut up, Quinn!" I shook in his hold. Everything should have gone as fast as I expected it too but it didn't. Time purposely slowed down, antagonizing me. Gunnar showed no remorse when he pulled the trigger. Braxton's lips pulled up in a small smile as if to say he would be okay before I saw his brain matter and blood spray behind him. I just stared at Braxton's limp body. When Gunnar finally let go of me my knees buckled and I collapsed to the floor. That moment played on repeat in my hea

“Ren, this knucklehead is Uncle Marc’s stupid son.” Gathering all the courage I have, I turn around and stare at the man who Cali called Klaus. He looks a lot like Uncle Marc, he’s the spitting image of his father, just younger. His ashen eyes were too piercing, scrutinizing me with his head tilted to the side. His long inky hair was tied in a neat ponytail while his black shirt fitted his skinny body perfectly. He’s not that skinny, scratch that, he was lean but not as big as Knox’s frame. “Hey,” I breathe out, awkwardly offering my hand for a shake. Ugh, Griffin was more proper than me.

Soren - POV Rocher and I sat in the basement, eyes locked on the grainy footage playing on the screen. The man wore a Reaper crest ring, but there was no identifier—no name, no visible face. Something blocked the camera’s view, leaving only his hand in sight. Judging by the roughness of his skin, he was likely in his late twenties or early thirties. I exhaled sharply. No new information. Nothing. Even the dark web held no trace of the Reaper mafia, as if they never existed.

His face demanded rational answers from the young master he knew. Braun sat down and began to speak. His face didn't show a frightening or suspicious aura. Braun seemed like an ordinary young man, seemingly introspecting about his wrongdoings. "I'm fed up with my mother's games. I shouldn't enjoy myself at the expense of others' suffering," Braun said with a pained expression. "So, what's your plan?" Clark asked curiously. Braun couldn't be naive without having any plans. "I will expose my mother's crimes before she hurts everyone and becomes a new predator."

Konstantin raised up his head slowly as he heard lev's words. " What is it? " He responded calmly. Despite the fact konstantin is a crazy ill tempered guy, his physical beauty never lessen. He has his long hair pack up in a ponytail , his eyes were of mysterious colour which give him am intimidating appearance. His plumped lips , down to his biceps and smooth skin makes him a very handsome man. He also has his own beauty but it can't just be compared to Maximo's, not at all. " When you sent us to new York, we met Maximo Santino "

Brayan’s touch on his shoulder jolted him back to reality, but his troubled face revealed the battle raging within him, seeking guidance in this complex situation. “Don’t think...” Brayan’s warning words resonated in his ears, a plea to not let Reile’s return disrupt the beautiful bond he had formed with Arlet. Brayan’s words were a reminder that his commitment to Arlet was his present, while Reile belonged to his past. Ruben slid back into his chair, his expression crestfallen. “I can’t,” he confessed, his voice laced with confusion and turmoil, unable to articulate the conflicting emotions tearing him apart.

Curiosity got the best of me and like a little child I tried to peek over Narissa’s shoulder, to see who this person was. Green Blue eyes stare back at me, his golden-honey hair slicked back, and his chin covered in a faint that cut nicely along his jawline forming into a smirk as I assessed him. Oliver freaking Steward… Boy, did he clean up good. When I saw him last a few hours ago he was covered in dirt, blood, and a whole heap of other stuff that I barely recognized him. The eyes, his eyes confuse me, I couldn’t place why they look so familiar before, maybe it’s the mate bond playing tricks on me, but his eyes, I know I’ve seen them before.

“YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO, YOU TRUNK OF A MAN!” A low, sinister chuckle leaves his lips at my lame insult, his wide shoulders shaking slowly at the motion. “My name is Santino Ricca.”

The group of princesses behind me made a squeal as the young man sauntered out of the crowd into the clearing in the middle of the hall. “Deucalion,” I whispered, looking at the selected prince. I couldn’t see most of him from where I stood, but he had beautiful black hair just like Valerian just longer, reaching almost his waist. He wore a red jacket over a pair of red trousers. He caught my stare, and I instinctively turned back to the announcer. He pulled a parchment from the second box and having already been caught staring at the handsome prince, the thought of having the dance with him was no longer appealing.