Slash Fiction Mga Nobela at Kwento

My cloud was broken when a strong, smooth voice commanded, "Stop!" My eyes flit open and my heart stutters. My God, did I mess up? London stares at the both of us, an unreadable expression on his face. I messed up, didn't I? "What's the matter?" Jackie sasses, a brow raised in his direction. "I don't need to hear anymore," he replied with a shrug, "You both made the cut." "That means?" I ask unsurely, narrowing my eyes. It means you're both in," he answered with a small smile, "Welcome to Crash Course Rebellion."

Without saying a word, she hurried out of the ring and made a straight line for the privacy of the shower room. As the lukewarm water cascaded over her tense shoulders, rinsing away the layer of sweat and grime, her mind refused to quiet down. The memory of that split-second counter-attack replayed on a loop behind her eyelids. Over the past few weeks, strange things had been happening to her—subtle shifts in her perception, sudden bursts of strength, and reflexes that defied the limits of what she had been taught. It was an anomaly she couldn't explain, a hidden well of instinct that felt both terrifyingly alien and intimately familiar.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: The Library After Hours The university library was silent as its rows of bookshelves casting long shadows across the empty study tables. Mia tugged Kyle deeper into the stacks, her fingers wrapped tight around his wrist. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one lingered near the entrance. She wore a short plaid skirt that barely covered her ass and a tight white tank top that hugged her full breasts, her nipples already stiff against the fabric.

Not us, anyway. Frost launches himself at the nearest shadow where it spreads like an oil spill on the scratched wooden floor. He leaps onto it, claws digging, teeth snapping. He’s like a starved wolf unleashed—biting, scratching, growling, snarling, taking out his anger on the shadow with devastating consequences. He tears right through the black shape, leaving gouges in the floor. The creature falls into shreds and evaporates, although Frost doesn’t wait around to see it disappear before he chooses his next victim.

He jumped to his feet and shouted, his voice shaking hard. "Fake! They're all fake! Who's framing me? The recordings are fake! The signatures are fake!" No one answered. Beside him, Julianna had already collapsed into her chair, frozen. The Shannon family had gone all out for this wedding. They'd even hired a professional team to livestream it. But through all the chaos, the stream never cut. The comments went nuclear. Hundreds of thousands of people flooded Shannon Corp's official accounts. At the same time, Shannon Corp's stock price nosedived.

“This is it, Elara. Once this goes live, there’s no turning back.” Elara nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m ready.” At exactly 9:00 a.m., the article was published. The headline was bold and damning: "The Puppet Master: How Daniel Stokes Orchestrated One of the Biggest Financial Scandals in History" The article laid everything bare—Stokes’s involvement with Lydia and Cassia, the shell companies, the fraudulent deals, the manipulation of the Hawthorne family fortune. It was a masterclass in investigative journalism, meticulously detailing every step of the conspiracy and exposing the true scope of the corruption that had destroyed Elara’s life.

She gets up quickly growling at Foire who's going for another blast, Solana quickly dodges the second blast and managed to saw an opening and attack Foire to his side. It caught him off guard, Solana's kick isn't a joke, sure enough, that he probably got his ribs broken. Foire was out of focus because of Solana's attack leaving him unprotected from all angles. Shifting now won't help Solana so instead, she ran circling Foire slashing him every chance she gets until he's down. Solana's slashes are fathomless, it stings and it's bad. A vampire can take a slash or two so as a fox but if an Alpha happens to bite them, they won't last long.

I looked like a monster, a ghost rising from the grave. My inner wolf didn't whine or cry for our lost family. She paced in the shadows of my mind, baring her fangs, her fur glowing white with a dangerous, lethal aura. The weak, submissive Omega named Aisha died tonight in this dirt. Turning my back on the graves, I walked away from the Blue Wing pack house and slipped into the shadows of the unknown world. I was leaving now. But I would return. And when I did, I wouldn't be hiding my white fur anymore. I would be their worst nightmare.

Each shattered, falling apart under their force. Falling came next after the slash on my ribs. A different wound opened up along my leg. Fire spread through me with each breath. The strength inside me drained quicker than before. Backpedaling, I sparked a gateway to shift space. Movement came through opening a way out. Faster moved the creature. A sharp impact hit my back without warning. Through my shoulder, steel drove deep. My breath caught hard. Warmth spilled across my tongue. I was losing. A shape lunged backward, readying its strike. Not a weapon - something darker: jagged shadows fused into a long spike pointing straight at me.

Samantha didn’t get the gist of what had happened to Zachary—Zack for short and what he preferred to be called—but she knew that Zack had been going through some rough shit since his accident—an attack upon his personnel by the rogue that worked together with dirty, filthy humans to take down the wolves in the sacred forest of Paphos. ’It would seem that you are not happy with the match, Sam,’ Scarlet asked as images were flying through her head. Samantha frowned, rubbing her chest as she remembered the imprint that had happened between them. The images… were not the ones that needed to be repeated inside her head, over and over again.