Novelas y relatos de Roman The Originals

Camila, young and innocent, looked like she was in shock, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Welcome, Zoey. I see you're getting comfortable.” Roman finally stepped out from the darkness that concealed him from our sight. He wasn't anything like I had imagined. I had expected a rugged, menacing figure, with scars etched into his rough-hewn features and tattoos snaking across his muscular arms. But the man who stood before me was a stark contrast to that mental image. He was lanky, almost gaunt, with a slender build that seemed more suited to a marathon runner than a hardened criminal.

“I caught one of them alive. I tried to interrogate him but he wouldn’t tell me anything. He said we lycans are getting what’s coming to us.” Hailey made a sound like she wanted to speak and raised her hand up like she was in class. “Please speak, Hailey. You’re free to.” Nox prompted. “May I ask what the rogue sounded like?” Roman thought about it. He opened Nox's mini-fridge and brought out three bottles of water which he passed two of to Sydney and Cain. “He had a southern accent and decaying gums and he also had a tattoo on the neck.” “A red tattoo depicting a wolf, an axe and a sword?”

Roman tells him. Roman’s eyes go down to the guys below, watching a scrawny looking guy dominate a guy who looks like he drinks blood for living. He didn’t find the fight as interesting as the rest of the people did. He was here for a reason. He was meeting with Rowan Priest. An old friend. They were talking business. Opening a trade route from Italy to here in the States. He hasn’t seen Rowan in years. Not since before Rowan married his current wife Grace.

Alone. Attached was a location pin—a high-rise restaurant still closed for renovations. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Exactly sixty minutes later, Damon stepped into the dim rooftop venue. Rain tapped against the panoramic windows. A solitary figure stood near the edge, overlooking the city. “Mr. Thorne,” the man said, turning. “Roman Vale. I used to work for Celeste. Now, I work for myself”. Damon approached warily. “Why now?” Roman poured himself a drink. “Because now you’re desperate enough to listen. And I want something in return”.

Willow began, looking up. The words died in her throat. Stormy gray eyes looked down at her. Roman had shaved his stubble, revealing the sharp, lethal lines of his jaw. His dark hair was swept back, and the brow piercing he usually wore was missing. Despite the shadows of exhaustion under his eyes, he was beautiful. "Rosebud?" Roman’s voice was deep, laced with the heavy accent of the old territories. His eyes traveled down her body, and Willow felt his jaw tighten. "What are you wearing?"

I'm not short standing at 5 '8 but this guy is at least 6' 1 and I haven't hit up the gym in a while. Kicking him in the groin so I can make some distance between us he groans and doubles over in pain, from there i see a small window for me to run but just when i am about to take off his hands grips my hair “What is your problem” he cries out. When he leans in again I brace myself before a gurgling sound echoes in the air and that is when the feeling registers… Roman is here.

Roman is interrupted by the familiar high pitched voice coming in through the front door "Look who's back…!”

"Funny thing about pain—it strips all the crowns, all the titles. Makes a narcissist fling his pride out the window." He bares his teeth. "I’ll kill you for this." "You'll have to survive first." He spits another curse, all fang and blood as the branding iron hits his skin again. "Now tell me, who is your man on the outside?! Huh?" Roman is the poet, the evil architect behind everything. But he's clearly chained in a dungeon. Which means he has an accomplice on the outside. Roman's twisted mind decided the words on the scroll, while another werewolf put the scroll out there. That same werewolf is producing the poison, and working with Lara's parents to kill everybody.

My heart slams against my chest. I quickly dress up and head to the living room. Roman is smoking cigarette, sitting on the couch staring at the corpse of Oscar lying in a pool of blood. Roman lights up the cigarette. "Take the body to the basement!" 💀💀💀☠️☠️

I heard Roman say behind me, I turned to him and went to hold his hand, pulling him toward me, and now we're standing holding hands in front of my father. "You're it?" dad says in a growl, he's scary, very scary really. "Dad, be nice, this is Romy," I say and then blush, I shouldn't have called him Roman, not Romy, but I didn't know what to do. "Hello sir, I'm Roman Black," Romy says next to me, introducing himself to dad. "Another Black," dad growls, his eyes were black, he's really angry and I don't get why.