Romans Audio Niv Novels & Stories

"One line. That's all." "And if she speaks to me?" Nigel asked. "Another line," Roman replied. "If she touches you, another line. If you feel your chest tighten or your thoughts scramble, another line." Nigel's shoulders sagged. "I don't have to speak?" he asked. "No," Roman said. "You just have to count." Nigel nodded slowly. "I can do that." "Good," Roman said. "Bring the book to me in a week." Nigel hesitated, then he straightened, squaring his shoulders with effort. "Thank you, Alpha."

It keeps me entertained. "You stop right there or you will regret it!" “Yeah, we’ve got the advantage of numbers. He won’t bring us down easily." It’s like they are trying to reassure themselves, but they really have no idea who they are dealing with, do they? I remembered that memory and replied, “You don't need numbers when you've got the courage to face your adversary." “It's time to shut your trap once and for all, kid, and trust me, you're going to be sorry."

Just a soft sound of satisfaction, like tasting something sweet for the first time. Micah clutched the sheets. Roman didn’t stop. Didn’t speak. Didn’t even look up. He sucked harder, tongue flicking under the head just right, and Micah bucked against the bed with a gasp. “Please,” Micah choked. Roman finally looked at him then. Just his eyes, lifting. Unbothered. Cool. “You’re begging now?” Micah flushed crimson. “N..No...” “You sound pretty when you beg.” Roman pulled back just enough to speak against the tip. “Let me show you something.”

Romans — his name scrawled on the board in sharp, masculine strokes — was going to be a fucking problem. The best, wettest, most dangerous kind of problem.

This was our opportunity to inspire, guide, and strengthen our pack, just as our love for each other had done for us. Roman's commanding voice resonated through the air, capturing the attention of every pack member. I listened intently, feeling his words course through me, blending with my own thoughts and emotions. His confidence and dedication were evident, instilling a sense of reassurance within me. Together, we were a force to be reckoned with. "Pack members," Roman's voice rang out, authoritative yet infused with warmth. "Today, we come together to chart our course, to embrace the challenges that lie ahead. Our unity has always been our greatest asset, and it is through our collective

“But can you change back for this moment? We need to hear all the details from both of you.” “Well, you already heard from him. Let him go and you will hear from my side of the story.” Closing his eyes, Roman rubbed his forehead. This was going nowhere, with that thought, he raised from his seat. “Let’s move to the living room.” Then he left them. Roman turned around to see the three youngest people entered living room. He had a book in his hand. Gesturing for them to sit down, he pulled his hand up to show them the book.

ROMAN'S P.O.V If I listened carefully, I could hear the seconds ticking inside my head One...two...one...two... One of my men pours whiskey into three shot glasses on the coffee table while we sit centered around it. I take mine and knock it down my throat the second he finishes “You can help me get the Brother” I muse aloud even as Isabella winces while taking the liquor. “This whiskey is very strong” she says almost disapprovingly, Fabiano mutters a laugh and finishes the contents of his glass in one shot

Roman couldn't pay attention to the rest as another sound came off very loud inside his head. Blast? What explosion? What's happening? The more disheveled he was, the more his head panged. Then he saw him. Gazing at him without a smirk or crafty grin. His face gave away nothing. Blood all over his body, similar to him on the bed. "Don't close your eyes, stay with us…" Roman heard the nurses say. But every sound entering his ear began to shrivel. "Don't… close your.. eyes, stay.. with us…"

Whatever Cassian and Dante had planned… it was starting. And both of them were standing exactly where the trap wanted them to be. The strings from the quartet had softened into something slower, silkier, the kind of melody that wrapped around the crowd like a whisper. Champagne glasses clinked, laughter rolled like smoke, but Roman was no longer hearing any of it. He’d only had one drink. One. Yet the room was beginning to tilt just slightly, like the floor had softened under his feet. His throat felt dry, his pulse pounding unevenly.