Novel & Cerita Stoner

[reminder: Stacy is a nickname for a male dwarf] [somewhere in a secret place] “Do you think he's gonna come?” Stacy cleared his throat and spit on the ground. “I’m sure of it. He is one step from death, and I could hear in his voice he was aware of it.” Jenn took a drag on the cigarette and puffed the smoke out from her chest. For a second, Stacy couldn’t see his face clearly. “I didn’t know you could smoke so well,” the dwarf narrowed his eyes. “After what I have come through with Dervel, smoking is just one of the things I learned since then.”

Their eyes widened so wide for the first time in their lives. After all, Stane was a Rank 9 Transcendent Being and was still able to capture sight of Lucas. "Hold it right there!" Stane leaped and raised the gigantic black ax in his hand and chopped aggressively. Broom! However, before Stane's ax fell, his body had endured Lucas' forceful punch.

It made me wonder how his mate could- Let me stop that train of thought before a certain someone peeked into my head again. I really needed to get him blocked. I thought I remembered Axil mentioning something about the giant’s name being River... Ryder? Something like that. He was one of their best pack warriors, no surprise there and was the only one strong enough to match their strength since he was the one that trained them when they were young. It's crazy. He's ancient but he still looks like a guy in his early 40s. Just how slow did werewolves age?

A tingling under her skin, the way energy shifts just before a storm hits. They reached a chamber that made Serena pause, her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t like any room she had ever seen. The walls were lined with hanging herbs—dried lavender, sage, wolfsbane, and others she couldn’t name. Crystals glimmered in the corners, placed in odd geometrical patterns, and at the center stood a black stone table, smooth and cold, with silver inscriptions etched across its surface. Standing beside it was a woman with glowing violet eyes and flowing robes woven from what looked like smoke and starlight. Her presence was sharp and unsettling, her beauty strange and otherworldly.

I click the message bubble and the conversation opens. It reads: YOU’RE GETTING TOO CLOSE TO STERLING. STAY AWAY FROM HIM! HE’S DANGEROUS!!

Christopher Alpha Stone was a grade A-asshole. He knew the consequences of trying to mess with me, but he still tried everything he could to be able to punish Miracle. My warning was enough for him to shut up. He knew if I said something, I would do it no matter what.

And with that, he turned and stalked out of the cabin as fast as he had entered, shutting the door hard behind him. My mother collapsed into a chair, shaking. "Who was that, Annie? His power.it was wonderful. I've never felt anything like it, not even from the Martial Lord." I kept mute, but I knew then my mom knew my state. I couldn't say a lot. I looked down at my babies, their tiny fists opening and closing. My sons needed a pack. They needed the best protection they would have. And Damon, for his wickedness, was still an Alpha, still known by all. The strange man was too much of a risk.

"The stone stays." THE END

“He’s here. He is qualified for the job, and he’s had his own past in a world with men like Lorenzo.” “Bring him in.” She opened the door wider. A man entered with the kind of stillness that clears a room. Tall. Dark hair, neatly kept. A charcoal suit that didn’t announce itself and a gaze that did, cool, attentive, unhurried. He stopped at a polite distance, as if measuring the space between us and deciding not to invade it. “Mrs. Blackthorn,” he said, nodding once. “Elias Gray. Thank you for accepting me in your firm. Ms. Vale told me that you needed a lawyer as a second advisor to your lawyer.”

A massive figure stood blocking the exit, his silhouette etched against the dim, dust-choked light. Ronan Stone. He was built like a mountain carved from granite. Broad shoulders, thick neck, fists like sledgehammers. His hair was dark and shaggy, his jaw covered in a coarse shadow of stubble. Where Kael was polished cruelty and Zephyr was icy calculation, Ronan was raw, unfiltered violence. He didn’t wear a uniform. He wore a tight black tank top that strained across his chest, his thick arms covered in a lattice of scars.