Roy Harper Dead Novels & Stories

Then, suddenly, he stops moving, and his eyes seal shut. “What is happening? Open your damn eyes!” I growl, jerking him. “Wake up and tell me who hired you!” “Kieran...” Harold holds my hand, but I jerk it off. “Get the doctor!” I growl. Harold moves closer to feel his pulse but shakes his head disappointedly. “He is dead.”

The channel’s anchor appeared, her professional smile subdued by the seriousness in her tone. “Breaking news,” the woman announces, her voice smooth but seemingly heavy. “The country mourns the sudden passing of decorated police officer Dean Harwood. Reports confirm that Harwood, fifty-two, died late last night in what authorities describe as a tragic accident. A collision on the highway claimed his life. Officials have praised his years of meritorious service, highlighting his career as one dedicated to justice and integrity.” Dean Harwood...?! Raees’s stomach drop, her knees giving way and she sinks slowly into her chair as if her legs can't hold up her body anymore.

“Don’t say sorry. You’re not sorry.” Right Harper is never sorry. He dabs his shirt with a napkin. The rest of the committee politely pretends not to be horrified. Dead. I'm dead. And I might need a time machine. Or just bury me, already. It’s going to be a long, long week.

When he looked at her, he noticed that the blood at the corner of her mouth was still wet, but she was no longer breathing. "No!" Harper roared into the sky, and tears rolled down his cheeks. In that instant, he felt as if something in his heart was hollowed out forever.

“not his kind.” And now? Now she had pushed a man to his death over a broken heart. And the irony was too heavy to ignore. Across the city, in the Harper penthouse, the same news played on a massive screen in the living room. James Harper stood by the window, arms crossed, watching. Elaine sat on the sofa, a magazine forgotten in her lap.

"What does that even mean?" Nobody answered immediately. Because nobody knew. Frank finally spoke. "Noah died." The old wolf's voice trembled. "I saw the fever." "So did I," Harper said softly. The healer looked devastated. "I examined him myself." Harper looked directly at Savannah. "He died." Savannah nodded immediately. "Yes." Tears filled her eyes. "He stopped breathing." She looked lost. "I held him." Nobody spoke. Because grief was sacred. Questioning a mother's memory felt cruel.

They just got back from the bar “Hey man you’re back?” Harper says as he proceeds to sit in the kitchen also “Welcome home babe” Haley said kissing me on the cheek “When did you get back?” he asked “I came back this morning. Did anything happen while I was gone?” “Nope. Nothing happened. How did it go?” she ask “Fine. David is dead by the way” I said showing no emotion “Oh My God!” Haley yelled with her hands over her mouth “I guess it didn’t go as smooth as you intended?” Harper ask and I shake my head to gesture “no”

After a long moment, he eventually got up and left. When Jay returned to the car, he gave a call to his assistant. "Find a way to get patient Harper’s family to transfer her to Grand Asia Hospital asap!" Over the phone, his assistant, Grayson, was speechless. Harper was the mother of the supposedly deceased Lady Rose. He remembered clearly the day he learned of Lady Rose’s mother. He had asked for instructions from the president. At that time, the president’s original words were, “I’ll pay for her treatment. But after that, I never want to hear about her ever again.”

The room fell silent, heavy with grief, secrets, and suspicion. *** The moment Doctor Harris stepped out of the operating theater, exhaustion dragging at his limbs, his phone lit up in his hand—twenty missed calls. His chest tightened when he saw the name. Amy Grant. He fumbled to dial her back, pressing the phone to his ear as his pulse hammered. “Amy—” Her voice cracked through the line, sharp with panic. “Where on earth have you been, Harris? I’ve been calling all night! Charlotte Warper is dead. She was killed in a hit-and-run accident!”

he continued, voice hard and steady, “last night was a close call. Too close. We got lucky.” The mood shifted instantly. The celebration from hours ago felt distant now. “Harper took a bad hit in the third period. Torn ligaments. He’s out for the season.” A low curse left someone’s mouth. My stomach dropped. Harper. Damn. He’d gone down hard against the boards, but I hadn’t realized it was that bad. Coach nodded once. “He won’t be joining us anytime soon.” “But,” Coach continued, clasping his hands behind his back again, “we’re fortunate.”