Scaramouche And Mona Mga Nobela at Kwento

She got shy and embarrassed when my eyes landed on her left cheek again where the huge scar was. There was a part of me that felt crushed as I looked at her scar. It was just like we were both the same. I had my own serious flaws. For one, the inability to control my wolf. Because of this, I had been mocked and insulted even if I was the King. They didn't appreciate my love for the entire Kingdom. All I wanted was love, but they wouldn't give it to me. And the useless Omega in front of me too. Both of us were...

“Smack!” The maid was stunned into oblivion after she got smacked in the face by the quiet Saffron. Even the chauffeur was shocked. How could a young girl like Saffron slap someone older than her? Even though she might be the new madam, she still doesn’t have the right! The chauffer thought.

Monique stumbled down the steps, reaching out to touch the urn. Watching her look so dazed, I applauded Ms. Kinsley. The strange thing was, I felt no connection to that box whatsoever. Ms. Kinsley dodged, and Monique fell to the ground. "I don't believe you! That's not Scott. You're lying!" Monique's eyes were red as she scrambled up and lunged at Ms. Kinsley. They both crashed heavily to the ground.

I barked at her, my eyes glued to the look of horror on Tate's face. "Unless, you fight me for it." "What?!" I frowned at her, glancing over at Grace. She looked just as confused. "I'm challanging you, Rhyder..." She rolled her eyes. Like it was supposed to be obvious. "And all the rules apply: winner takes the pack and the loser leaves." Grace stepped forward. "That's madness, Meghan! Please, just stop this! Enough is enough!" Meghan only glared at her. She wanted what she wanted and she wasn't going to stop until she had it.

This was just a normal dinner with a lonely businessman who'd been foolish enough to fall for my scam. In an hour, I'd walk out of here, cash the check, and disappear forever. But with the way he was staring at me right now, it was like Damien Romanov had no intention of letting me walk out at all. Dessert arrived. Some elaborate confection involving gold leaf and raspberry coulis. But I barely tasted it. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to leave. To take the money and run. But silly me stood still. Damien was watching me with those ice-blue eyes, and something about his gaze made it impossible to move. Like a rabbit frozen in the sight of a wolf.

Ivy doesn't need anyone. She's got three jobs, a sharp tongue, and zero patience for men who think muscle solves everything. Then a bar fight goes wrong, an infuriatingly gorgeous stranger clears her debt, and suddenly she's stuck working for a hockey player who smells like moonlight and looks at her like she's the answer to a question he never asked. She should have known "assistant" was too good to be true. She definitely shouldn't have missed the part where he's a werewolf. Or that she might be one too. Alex has spent three years running from an arranged marriage, an Alpha title he doesn't want, and a fate he can't outskate. The night he finds his fated mate slinging drinks at a dive

I had no idea she was even connected to this world outside the Moonbeam Pack. I tried to avoid her, but before I could turn away, she stepped into my path. “Well, well, well.” She sneered. “Look who’s playing dress up.” I clenched my fists at my sides, willing myself to stay calm. “I don’t know you,” I said, my voice steady. “Please excuse me.” Her lip curled into a cruel smile. “Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t remember me, Rowena. The rejected Luna. The murderer.”

"Do you consider us weird?" "No, Mistress Clara." "No?" Shamira asked incredulously. "Bondage vampires from hell isn't weird?" "Monique is a werewolf, not a vampire. And no, it isn't odd for us at all." "Werewolf?" Clara smiled. "Our guest is a woman of few words," she said. "Monique, I think she might like a display." "Display?" Shamira asked. "What kind of display?" Monique stood up and quickly undressed. While this was happening, Shamira pulled on the sweats, which were way too tight for her. Her breasts were amazingly firm (thank you Mr. Plastic Surgeon), so the lack of a bra wasn't a problem.

“Well, she’s here.” Several women murmured in agreement. “I think calling it a competition is an insult,” Mona continued. “To me, certainly. When the outcome is already decided, what is there to compete over?” Her confidence was impressive. She truly believed she’d won. I found it amusing. Instead of responding immediately, I reached up and slowly unwrapped the scarf from around my neck. The movement drew everyone’s attention. The mate mark was fully visible now, the scar tissue catching the afternoon light. Gasps echoed around the table.

“ Mom , what is she doing here ? “ asked Amra . “ Mona is very kind and visits me often , bringing me delicacies and presents . “ said madam Ariana . “ Amra , it’s been a while . I am happy to see you . How have you been ? “ said Mona innocently . “ I am afraid I can’t share the same excitement . What are you doing here ? This is pur family business and by the looks of it m you keep visiting often . “ said Amra . “ I am concerned about madam Ariana and mr Andrea . I consider them my family . “ said Mona . “ Mhm ! I am sure you do but they aren’t your family . They are my family and Ayla’s family . Get that in your head and don’t get any strange ideas . Mona looked at her with a smirk then su