Stall 2 Novels & Stories

Alden was able to get answers from the little girl. Alexia darted a curious glance at him, watching the splay of emotions across his face, "I'm waiting" She prodded. "I want to be alone." He replied instead, and she exited quietly. Stiles paced about in annoyance, as he tried to get his thoughts together and come up with a strategy to outsmart Maxwell. He rubbed his head, he could feel a headache coming. The silence was deafening and he couldn't bear to remain in his room.

I call out, forcing a smile as I approach her stall. She looks up, her smile faltering when she sees me. “Oh, Luna Stacy.” I wince at the title. “Just Stacy,” I correct her gently. “I was wondering if you’ve had a chance to look over the lease agreement? You seemed so excited at the opening.” She fumbles with a basket of apples, avoiding my gaze. “Oh, um, yes. About that... I’ve been so busy with the stall here, you know. Hard to think about expanding right now.”

“Don’t slow down now.” Tyler didn’t respond. He was focused, charging ahead with clenched fists and teeth gritted, like he was fighting a war inside his own skin. His shoulders twitched, muscles spasming as he ran, but he never faltered. Not once. Finally, we skidded to a halt at the end of the hallway. And there it was, like Maya’s cage. A reinforced steel cell, thick metal bars layered in front, chains coiled like vipers inside. It looked like something built to contain a monster. And judging by what we’d seen of Raya, Alicia and Damon … it probably was.

EVALUATION PHASE II INITIATED. SPECIES TRAJECTORY DIVERGENCE DETECTED. PRIMARY VARIABLE REQUIRED. My pulse spikes. “It wants you,” I say. The partitioned presence hums low. Engagement probability high. Aidan doesn’t look afraid. He looks resolved. “What’s Phase II?” he asks the air. No response. Not from ours. From the gray lattice. The message updates. CONTROLLED ENVIRONMENT. LIMITED STAKE SIMULATION. DECLINE OR PARTICIPATE. Matteo’s jaw tightens.

We made it to that moment where honesty stopped being theoretical and became physical. The kiss was different from the first one. It was less a question and more a statement. A "this is happening" moment. An acknowledgment that we were past the testing phase. I pulled back before things escalated too far. "I need to move slower," I said. "Than I want to. I'm going to want to rush this because rush feels like less time for things to go wrong. But I need to actually move at a pace where I'm not in complete terror." "Okay," Eli said. "We can do that."

"It will take approximately two weeks to arrange." "Two weeks." Ivory set the report down. "And in those two weeks?" "Stellan stays on pack lands. Visible. Documented. He doesn't cross the border, doesn't engage with any Greyfield wolves, and doesn't do anything that could be reframed as evasion." He looked at her steadily. "He's been cooperative. He understands the situation." She exhaled slowly through her nose. She had come here ready to argue, to negotiate, to put herself between her brother and whatever wall he'd run into. She had spent seven hours in a car building the architecture of that argument. And now the wall wasn't where she'd expected it to be.

Her cheeks were flushed with satisfaction, and dark red marks covered the soft skin above her chest. Even the black lace dress I had bought for our anniversary had been stained with a few suggestive spots of blood. The room was filled with loud, crude men. Whistles and teasing laughter echoed through the air. “Ms. Jones finally ended her single life tonight.” “So? Was Eric good enough to make your legs give out?” Their eyes shifted toward me, followed by another round of whispers. “Shane is pathetic. He spent years acting like a loyal dog around her, and he still did not get her first time.”

Mia nodded. Callum studied her for a moment before looking back at the road. “Okay.” He didn’t try pressing her but he knew something was bothering her. The car became quiet again. A few minutes later, the familiar brick building that housed Lumen Studio came into view. Callum pulled over along the curb and shifted the car into park. “We’re here.” Mia looked toward the entrance before turning back to him. “Thanks for the ride.” “Anytime.” She reached for the door handle.

The midnight air over the private hangar was freezing, cutting through the thick layer of fog that rolled off the asphalt. A long, dark luxury sedan sat idling near the edge of the runway, its headlights switched off to stay hidden in the shadows. Inside the vehicle, the silence was heavy. Tristan Hayes sat in the back seat, his jaw clenched tight as he stared at the digital display of his tablet. The red numbers indicating his personal bank valuations had stopped spinning, frozen solid beneath a thick white text box: Assets Restricted by Federal Registry.

Stellan stared at the city below and felt, for the first time since Tuesday morning, something he did not have a clean name for settle into the centre of his chest and refuse to move. His two o'clock was waiting. He did not go in for another four minutes.