Senna Urf Novels & Stories

What Rin Found Inside Emily's POV Senna arrived on a Tuesday in the eleventh year's final month. She was forty-three, compact, and unhurried in the way of wolves who had been their own company for long enough that they were entirely comfortable moving at whatever pace the situation required without reference to any external expectation.

Senna eagerly nods her head. Blake got up from the bed and left to go to his. Senna also prepares herself. She tried to smooth down her hair with a brush and she change into her casual clothes. When she had finished, she went out of her room and saw her father leaning in the doorway. Blake stood straight when he saw Senna. He offers his hand for her to hold and together they head out.

Senna continued kneading while I added the eggs to the creamed butter mixture. "I'm not sure, exactly," I chuckled nervously, "I guess that's probably not the smartest answer for a pregnant human in a wolf pack with people I don't know." "Well I'm Senna, and you met Colt. This is my granddaughter Sienna. That hotshot is Carmen," she pointed towards the auburn haired girl. "Tommy," a man with graying hair and a kind smile. "Johanna," a middle aged woman with the most stunning blue eyes I've ever seen. "Carrion and Carson," two sets of identical brown eyes locked on mine, "Aka the troublemakers."

Giving her the best advice whilst being the silent yet comforting presence she needed. Currently, Sreya was mentally muttering a string of curses. Envisioning her many black and grey long sleeve turtle neck tops, she desperately wished one of them—preferably the ribbed black one—was hugging her marked body. At least it'd hide proof of her most recent...activities. But her wish came true for her brother because he was wearing a turtleneck...Sre groaned internally...a black one. "Mind if we switch tops?" She wanted to ask but she gave him a broad nervous smile, "Ethan!". Sliding her arms around his waist as she hugged him, Sre wondered what she smelled like....probably like Xaver's beautiful p

Senna I am a very good liar. I spend my days smiling at people who killed everyone I loved, and I do it so well that they give me keys to their rooms. It has been six weeks since I remembered that my name is Maren, not Senna, but I still answer to Senna. I have to. Senna is the girl they trust. Senna is the healer who fixes their cuts. Maren is the girl who wants to watch this whole house burn.

His tone was seductive, and I found myself leaning back against him. “Sienna.” I reply breathlessly. “Beautiful name for such a beautiful she-wolf.” He replies. I barely even noticed what he had said, assuming that it was a pet name. All I could think about was the heady scent of pinecones wafting around me, making me lose all other coherent thought. With each beat of the music, my heart rate seemed to escalate to match that of the tempo and with it my body heat. I was beginning to feel hot, really hot. And that scent. Where was that scent coming from.

As Senna and Therese sighed in relief, Senna then shyly poked Troy's back. Troy turned around to face Senna, looking at her with curiosity. Senna paused for a while, at least a minute or two, before she spoke, "Troy, right? I am Senna Smith." She introduced herself to Troy, and she lent her hand while she lowered her head and scraped her nape, waiting for a response.

NYRA The six letters went out the morning after we wrote them. I had reviewed Orion's three and he had reviewed mine and we had made adjustments and sent them through the clean channel before the garrison's first morning rotation. By the time I was sitting at the war room table with the new student from the Vane household, the letters were already on the road. Her name was Senna. She was sixteen and careful and she had arrived with better foundational knowledge than Aldric had, which was either her own preparation or her father's, and I was not going to waste it.

Davyn’s face was very tight. “Both alive. Both asleep in their own rooms. Neither is Senna. We have them. But Torrhen, “ his voice was low, controlled. “One of them is the wolf Mara described as the older healer who taught her at the network. She’s a senior. She’ll know things. But she is not the wolf at the center.” “How long has Senna been gone.”