Novel & Cerita Reiner Braun

“Come on Eirene, where are you?” >>> Damon snatched the mirror from Rein’s hand as the latter checked on her reflection for the hundredth time. “Nothing changed with your appearance since five seconds ago when you last checked. Seriously, just admit it. You like Captain Cleag.” Rein gasped, “I do not! And it’s Special Agent Cleag now. He’s our handler for the mission so it’s important to look our best when meeting with him.” She tried to grab the mirror from her 6-foot-5-inched companion but failed.

"Rock, Shin! Kill him! Once we're done here, we'll head into Eastblue city to kill off all their families in revenge for the death of my son!" "Yes sir!"the too many standing behind him roared in unison and acknowledgement of their masters order as they stepped forward. What made these two men stand out was the way they were dressed. The one was dressed in all black was Rock, while the one in all white was Shin. They were Lucas Brown's right hand men and had killed hundreds of people. They were notoriously known for being ruthless and no one had ever survive their attacks. They were the reason Lucas Brown was where he was today.

—Yes, wonderfully, Santiago is a great man. -Santiago? - Luciana asked in a whisper, when Irina was going to answer the two men arrived. —I think we can go now, Santi has arrived. — Said Saúl who at that moment looked from him to Luciana — Lu, meet my best friend Santiago O'Brien. — And then he turned to his friend — and I present to you Luciana Brown, Irina's best friend. — They both looked at each other surprised, Santiago couldn't help but look at her from top to bottom with her gaze.

“You’re the reason we’ve been able to keep the peace. You’re a true leader.” Donovan smiled, basking in their praise, feeling the camaraderie that bound them together. “I appreciate all of you. It’s not just about me; it’s about all of us. Together, we’re stronger.” As he watched the video of the inciter’s failed attempt to rally the factions against him, he felt a sense of pride swell within him. Despite the dangers lurking in the shadows, he had established a network of loyal allies, ensuring that his reign would not be easily threatened.

Now it looked like his plans were gonna have to change. "Hey there." The sweaty overweight man came forward with his hand outstretched. "You must be Kyle; I'm Clarence Mayburn, pleasure. How you doing, Mr. Clancy? It's been a while. Sorry to hear about your wife." He shook the other man's hand and waited while he unlocked the gate in between his verbal back and forth with gramps. Kyle and gramps hopped back into the truck while Clarence pulled up the rear and followed them down the drive that had to be at least a thousand feet long. The place had a calming feel about it, like it was waiting to welcome him home. He couldn't wait to bring Kerry here.

The guy stopped about three yards from us and fell to his knees. “What in the world?” I breathed. The man began shaking violently, and as soon as it started it stopped. “Distasteful.” Came a voice from behind the unconscious drunk guy. I knew this voice. “Aiden?” I peered into the darkness. “I’m so sorry I kept you, Jamie.” A few clicking sounds came from his direction until he moved into the light. He was wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt that brought out his deep blue eyes. His hair was shorter than Hunters but still the same jet black as his, he was a lot more pale and significantly skinnier. The thing that shocked me the most was that he had metal crutches buckled onto each of his arms.

Even the quiet hum of the old ceiling fan overhead seemed to fade out. “Alright,” he said, voice smooth, almost too casual. “Time to stop messing around.” I tensed. “My name is Rein,” he continued, eyes flicking between me and Christian with deliberate slowness. “I’m a 'nkt your typical werewolf, as you'd like to tag me," he said this glancing at me. " Seven hundred years old. Been living in Nevada for the past two decades, keeping a low profile.”

Thank you for reading Ren and Devin's story. xx

The fabric clung to her like a second skin, her nipples faintly visible in the cool air. The crowd’s energy surged as the next fighter entered the ring. Riven Kane. They called him the Reaper—six-foot-five of corded muscle, scarred knuckles, and cold, emerald-green eyes that had ended more careers than most men had hot meals. His bare chest gleamed under the lights, intricate tattoos of ravens and thorns snaking over his shoulders and down his arms. He moved like a predator, calm and lethal, ignoring the cheers as if they were background noise.

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.