Remain Nameless Dramione Ao3 Romane & Geschichten

Naomi blinked and blinked as the entire room was wrapped in silence. Damon glared at Jordan. If he could commit murder and get away with it, Jordan would be his first, no doubt. Jordan glances at Naomi in awe. “She looks way prettier in person. Those pictures are nothing compared to the real deal!” “Get out.” Damon gritted. It seems the more he opens his mouth, the deeper the pit he dug up for Damon gets. “Thank you?” Naomi replied, glancing between the duo. Why the hell do they look like identical twins?

Whoever Athena was, there was some resemblance between she and her, and that girl, had taken her life by poison. "Don't just stand there looking daft and follow me!" The woman snapped irritatedly and walked away, bending in the corners. Anna followed after her immediately, her legs moving fast. "This was her room." The woman opened the door to the room and Anna looked around it. It was a huge beautiful fit for nothing less than a queen. "Who was she?.......ma?" She asked. "Call me Diane." The woman said, taking a deep breath, "She was such a lively and beautiful girl, Athena. She was also the mate to Lycan Xandros. Elegant with such a smile that could melt anyone's heart."

Aria woke to the soft drip of rain outside her window, though the storm had long since passed. Her body ached from the cold and mud, but her mind was restless, refusing to let sleep reclaim her. The memory of Damon’s rejection burned in her chest, the bond still pulsing faintly beneath her skin. She touched her wrist, half-expecting the glow to have vanished, but it lingered, warmer this time, almost like it was alive.

Seraphine. Cassian. Nova. Mira. Hale. Luca. Luca. The sight of him standing there still hurt. Not with the sharp agony of discovery anymore. Something duller. Heavier. A wound that refused to close. Damon forced his attention back to the screen. Because right now They had bigger problems. The monitor flickered. Static filled the room. Then the image stabilized. And there she was. Vale. Older than the photographs. Yet somehow more terrifying.

"Do you accept this?" I looked at the hall. At the fourteen who had voted. At Mira and Elara. At my grandmother. At Mila with her notebook. At Draco, beside me, with the expression that had a name. "I accept it," I said. My voice carried into every corner of the hall. The officiant looked at Draco. "Alpha Draco. Do you present her so?" "I present her," Draco said, "as my equal. My mate. My Luna." He paused. "And as herself. Entirely and without qualification. As herself."

I groan. “Only if you ask nicely, handsome,” I laugh. “You might want my name first, mate. I am Damien Diamante, nephew of The Lycan King.” “I am Tobias Randall and we are both assigned to guard Beta Amina,” my sexy male mate says with a chilly air, attempting to stay distant. Oh the game is on and he’s going to lose! Hard to get, my ass! I’ll make him buckle and then he’ll be screaming and moaning my name.

"When we are alone, you can call me Damien." "I am nothing but a lowly servant. I can't call you by your name." I said pleadingly and he cocked a brow. "You didn't consider your status when you asked me to dance." I was considering telling him I was dared to, but I didn't know how he'd react to it so I just blankly stared at him. "What is your name and whose daughter are you?" "I'm Amaira," My voice was shaky as I answered him. "I'm the personal slave of Miss Audrey, daughter of the Alpha of Moon Claw's pack. I don't have a family... I'm just a common Omega. Please let me go now."

"Hmm," "I, Moana Renee Wayne, daughter of Alpha Ambrose Wayne of the Silver Moon Pack, take back my rejection and accept Alaric Stark Jr. as my mate." She took back the rejection, but we felt nothing. There was no spark or alluring scent again. "What’s your real name?" "I’m not telling you that." "Don’t you love me?" "You can’t use this card to get information from me." "Do you love me or not?" Sighing in defeat, I replied, "James Alaric Stark." I watched her smile like a child at her success.

“My name isn’t Riven.” Kael crossed his arms. “Yeah, we figured.” “I’m Elara,” I said quietly. “Elara Riven Monroe.” The name felt heavy leaving my mouth. Damon stilled. Cassidan’s brow furrowed. Kael just stared. “Elara…” Damon repeated. “Monroe as in—” “A runaway princess. Nothing more,” I finished. Kael let out a low breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “Unbelievable.” Damon looked at him. “Kael.”

“She looks like me.” I let one more measure fall onto her tongue. Stage-II’s last sip. “Ask her what her name is.” “I don’t want to frighten her.” “You won’t,” I said. “You are her homecoming.” Silence. Then: “Dina.” Good. I love when the archives agree with the mirrors. Dina Drăculești, the illegitimate daughter who kept the accounts while the men were out staging morality as battle. She died at nineteen in childbirth; the child lived and pastors changed their name to spare themselves trouble. Blood flees churchmen but it never forgets the way back.