Rk900 Connor Novels & Stories

Connor also cups his hands on his face as he kisses his forehead. Connor finally picks up himself. "Prepare for the funeral. Let them all be here as we will be invading the Moarte in their lowest part. In the name of my mother, Barbara Walsh Russo. I Connor Carter Vozinelik shall be the new master of their household! Those who would be resisting should be shot dead!" "YE, SIR!" Lincoln guards give their respect for him—even Lincoln and Ethel are on their knees to welcome his brother in the world of violence and fear.

“Hello?” I said when I answered the phone. “Sir.” I heard the nervous voice of Nina, my assistant “Mr. Kristopolis is right in front of me asking for you.” “Nina.” sighed when I walked into my apartment “Do what I asked you to do, cancel all my appointments for the rest of the week and...” I heard a Give me that fucking phone! And then several fighting sounds. “Mark!” Kristos barked in my ear “Where the fuck are you?”

Giving him a nod, I reached out to take the hand he offered. “Very well.” I said, only keeping my hand in his briefly as we shook on it. “Remember, if things get hairy out there, let me know and I will bring a team out to assist you. I have Ryan on the rooftop standing by as a sniper if needed.” Ryker spoke as we started toward the front door. I was tempted to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but from the looks of things, I doubted he was going to budge on this. When we reached the door, he grabbed my arm to stop me from leaving. Turning to look at him, I wasn’t sure what was going on.

She reached out and gently touched his arm, hoping to comfort him. Kylian looked up at her, his usually calm demeanor replaced by a furrowed brow. He handed her the letter he had been holding, and Diana's eyes quickly scanned its contents. It was a letter from the Resin Moon Pack, a neighboring pack known for their hostility towards Diana's pack. The letter stated that they had Emma captive and were demanding a ransom for her release.

They held each other's hands as Drake started to tell his vows to HR Queen. As of today, you will be a queen. A queen of our home and a queen of my kingdom. I, the alpha of the Blue Moon pack, am promising in front of the deities to protect, love, respect, and cherish you as long as I live. Our meeting was hard and rough, but I want you to know that I will be this soft-hearted to you, loving you tenderly as I love our son. Drake paused. He was biting his lower lip to suppress his tears and emotions. He didn’t want to cry, but his tears betrayed him and streamed down his face.

I turned to see Connor sitting on the chair in the corner of my room watching me and he said, "I am not rejecting you and I won't accept your rejection, so put that out your pretty little head, mate." Connor got up and walked over to me, he was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt with a necklace around his neck showing he was T.J.'s Gamma. He wore black jeans and boots, had the club ring on his hand and a tattoo on his neck, and was blonde with blue eyes and dimples when he smiled. He was around 6'0 feet with a muscular build but not buffed muscular, his scent was of wood and rain, like in the forest. He looked into my eyes and said, "So, what's it going to be, mate," and I backed away, his gaze

“I need you to do something for me,” The person from the other line coughed, clearing his throat. “Yes, anything, Luna.” I nodded, pleased. “I want you to check the connection between Natalie and Mr. Connor.” “Mr. Connor?” “Yes. The former chief warrior who was elevated to the ranks of commanders.” I confirmed. “It’s simple and you should get it done. Find out the connection between Natalie and Connor.” “Is this in connection with the disappearance of the maid, Pyra Blackwood?”

"We were trying to avoid a scandal, not commit a crime! You tried to turn a High Council winner into a common pelt-peddler? Do you have any idea whose name you've dragged into the mud?" "Editor... I didn't think—" "Get out. Her pack remembers your scent. You’re finished in this industry." 5:00 PM. Vale Hills Estate. Connor was back in his study, looking lethal despite his lingering illness. Jordan arrived with a thick scroll—the secret history of Mark Whittaker’s month in the city. "Finished?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe. "Perfect timing. Look at this," Connor said, pulling me onto his lap. The scroll listed four models Whittaker had "sponsored" in the last moon. One of them was S