Novel & Cerita Sergeant Dornan

Death wasn't just a possibility, it was inevitable. "Your role as her personal bodyguard would still stand," the Don added coldly, not even looking back as he turned toward the door. "Don't make me check the cameras again, Arnold." He vanished into the hallway, leaving me shivering in the cold room. I was safe for now, but the image of the burning knife stayed burned into my mind. I had to stay professional, but with Dorla... that was getting harder every single day. __________ __________ I stood in front of the small, cracked mirror in my quarters, dabbing a cotton swab at the split in my lip.

he said. I paused. The name alone sharpened my focus. Dorn operated in the shadows of the underworld. He trafficked children and sold human organs through hidden channels, moving shipments across borders with calculated precision. I had been waiting for a weakness, and Noah had finally uncovered it. Noah set the file on my desk and opened it. Surveillance photos, transaction logs, and shipment routes filled the pages. He tapped a marked line. “This path leads to the warehouse near the old harbor. Dorn used it last night. One of his trucks passed without proper records. I accessed the secondary feed and matched the plates. They belong to one of his runners.”

Swallowed by that cursed light. “Serenya!” His voice tore from his throat, hoarse and raw. “Serenya, answer me!” No reply. Only thunder. Behind him, the surviving warriors of the northern host were regrouping among the shattered walls. Dorian — his second in command — limped toward him, one arm bound with bloodied cloth, his gray fur streaked with soot. “She’s gone,” Dorian said quietly. “Whatever took her—it isn’t of this world.”

But this morning, while the sound of the boys’ bickering carried through the thawing air, the act of sewing felt more like penance. Donovan had returned first from the all-night patrol, jaw flexed so hard the veins stood out along his neck. He waited at the threshold, boots muddy, until Elena finally acknowledged him. “Bad?” she asked, too weary for the right euphemism. “Worse,” he said. “Another deer, torn apart and left.” His face twisted with contempt. “No wolf did that.” Damon was limping behind, eyes gone pale in the aftermath of a shift. “Not even a clean kill,” he muttered, and Elena could hear the bile in it, the personal offense taken at the rogue’s lack of respect.

Chapter 89 The next morning, Dora woke up early, she parked a few weapons among her clothes and went to the training arena. Ben was there training, She went directly to him and they began fighting, “You are mad, I get it” he said as they fought, “I am not mad. I couldn't expect anything less from you when my own father is the worst disappointment” she said, “Am sorry Dora, I had no option, my loyalty was questioned. I knew the Don was going to do something to you and yet I still brought you in” Ben tried to explain himself

Everyone exited the Humvees and gathered in the parking lot. From what Zane could see Daniels was the highest rank, besides the other Sergeant. His insignia was different from Daniels but he assumed it was Sergeant anyways. This Sergeant was about 6’1, he was an african american man with finely toned muscle. Zane could not see his hair, but green eyes shone from beneath his bandana that he wore on his face. His eyes were bright against his skin tone. Zane assumed he had a shaved head with a finely shaved beard. His men were all a little shorter than him. They looked like hardened men. Their faces were covered with bandanas and their helmets were black as well.

Phillip and Standfast stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold. "Sit," Donovan commanded, his voice cold. The guard complied, his legs trembling as he sank into the chair. Donovan leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "You left your post without authorization," he began, his tone dangerously calm. "And now, my wife and Teni are missing. Explain yourself."

“Which of you left these footprints?” Nathan turned to the healer, who looked at the footprints. Doreon watched the road, following the trail of footprints with his frowning forehead. Doreon was the brightest man Nathan had ever known, and although his choice to put him in charge of the royal army was a strategic move to appease some of the lords, Doreon had earned that position. No one was a strategist like him, no one could lead an army like him, and no one could solve mysteries like him. Doreon was a tracker, able to find any trace, a spy who knew how to make himself invisible to the eyes of all, and able to pull out information even to the most sealed mouths. His intuitions had been usef

Kael's POV "You haven't slept in three days, sir." Doran's voice came from the doorway. I did not turn around. "You'll find I haven't asked you, Doran." "No. You haven't." The old beta stayed in the doorway anyway. He had been my father's seneschal before he had been mine. He had stood in that exact doorway, in that exact tone, for forty-one years. He had outlasted three kings, two wars, and one wife.

he asked finally, and that was the real questionless casual, more like a rancher asking if you can ride a wild horse without getting eaten. “Yes.” His mouth twisted, and for a terrifying second I thought that was it an acknowledgment and nothing more. Then he reached under the table and pulled out something small and flat: a photograph, edges worn. He laid it on the wood between us. “Philip Romano,” Carnito said. “Leader of the Borra group. He’s been polite enough to keep trade lines open, but he’s also been keeping something of mine.” I saw the man in the photo: older, smug, the kind of jaw that never worked out its pride. “The diamond?” I asked, because I already knew. Rumors are a currenc