Seven X Thirteen Novels & Stories

Toward the mountains. Then: "We're not first." Silence. Then Aurelius frowned. Then: "Who?" The answer came from the Third Crown. Truth. Then Thomas spoke. Then: "The Eighth Heir." The group froze. Immediately. Then Henry blinked. Then: "Another one?" Then: "We keep finding these people." Honestly? Fair. Very fair. Reasonable honestly. Then Valen sighed. Then: "There are thirteen of us." Pause. Then: "What did you expect?" Honestly?

I pointed at this tiny intersection point in Sector Eight that looked totally worthless. "Let Cain win the primary area. Let him drive the price up as high as he wants until he's drunk on beating Vorreth. But here's the thing. The land in Sector Seven is basically poison. There's sulfur deposits underground that'll eat through anything. They're hiding that detail from everyone." I looked up, meeting his gray eyes head on. Leaned into it.

The plane taxied onto the runway. The engines roared to life. I closed my eyes. Seven years ago, on a full moon night, he’d bitten the nape of my neck and whispered, "From this day forward, my soul is bound to yours." The moonlight spilled through the window onto our tangled bodies. I thought that was forever. Tonight, seven years later, I was severing that thread myself—a thread called "fate." I summoned the ancient power in my blood.

His voice was a flat, dangerous monotone. ​"Living with it," she whispered. "And Isabel has been here for seven. Both of them waiting for someone to come and collect the bill." ​Xavier looked at the papers. His jaw was doing that tight, rhythmic thing—the only crack in the porcelain. ​"Xavier," she said. ​He looked at her, his dark eyes unfathomable.

Right after posting it, while I was still reading comments mocking me for putting on a tough front, I saw Immortal Ashes Team’s official account tag me in a post, openly standing by my side. "The crowd follows the herd. The strong walk alone. Those who don’t know how to cherish what they have will lose it. Ash Mercer, we stand with you. IA will always be your strongest backing."

A deep, smooth baritone filled the speakers—a voice I would recognize anywhere in the dark. It was Axel. *"The Sterling Design Group is vulnerable,"* Axel’s recorded voice said, cold, calculated, and entirely corporate. *"Wait until she’s desperate. Then we move."*

he said again but all he got was a buzz. "Smith, where....." a voice came live from the walkie talkie but was cut short with the buzz sound again. "Major Mark do you copy" he said into the talkie again, he's getting impatient. "I'm out" Austin said switching his SCAR riffle to his GP100 .357 revolver and put a big hole in the head of a female infected . "What's going on Smith?" I asked out of frustration. "The signal is weak" he replied trying to connect Major Mark again.

He had lowered himself completely. "Don't be angry, all right, Ava?" Like a magic trick he produced a small bullet casing and waved it in front of me. "I chased you for seven whole years. When you agreed to be mine you gave me seven casings. You said if I ever made you angry, I'd get seven chances to make it right." He buried his face in my neck. "You know I was out of my mind happy that day. Take the casing. Don't be angry anymore."

After Heath Renwick abandons me and our daughter for Celeste Worthing's dog for the seventh time, we finally learn our lesson. He parades around with Celeste and the dog, trending online, landing magazine features, and I don't say a word. He even tears up our daughter Maisie's favorite sketchbook to line the dog's bed, and she doesn't cry or make a fuss. Then the dog chases Maisie down a flight of stairs. She hits her head and ends up in the ER with a concussion, and only then does Heath bother to show up. "Raven! Why didn't you tell me? I'm Maisie's father too!" I spend the whole night sitting outside the emergency room. I look at him, my voice perfectly calm. "It's nothing serious,

"You all don't know this, but for seven years, she's clung to Dante as a maid, constantly trying to seduce him, delusional enough to think she could become the Donna!" "Being an orphan is one thing, but to have such a vicious heart, stealing and seducing. Shameless." The murmurs rose and fell as guests looked at me with increasing scorn. The live stream chat was flooded with insults. These people wanted nothing more than to reach through the screen and tear me apart. Dante stood to the side, his brow furrowed tighter, inexplicably irritated. He looked at my pale but defiant face and felt his throat tighten with an unwanted flicker of sympathy.