Strangers Chapter 2 Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 4 Lyra's POV The stranger smiled, and Jesus, it wrecked me. That hard face, so sharp and ruthless, went soft around the edges. Like sin dipped in honey. “Does it really matter?” he asked slowly, his voice smooth as bourbon. “Tonight, we are just two broken souls hiding in plain sight.” Fair. “Then here’s to strangers,” I replied, raising my glass with a shaky hand. “To strangers,” he echoed, clinking his glass against mine.

I joked. Stephan exhaled. “He looks nicer than me. More innocent.” “Nah, you got the same eyes.” I said seriously. “But take it with a grain of salt, I am just a stranger after all.” “Yeah, and you've figured me out much faster than anyone else.” He chucked again. “Even Whitney?” Stephan didn't answer, but turned to me. We stared at each other, both trying to figure out what this energy between us was. Or maybe it was just me–after all he had traveled all this way just to break up Whitney’s wedding.

Strangers? "What are we to you? Strangers? Enemies? Or friends? You're the only one who can answer that question. Because you see, we admit that we are at fault here too. We're wrong for mistreating you. But if you see us as strangers now, we can still be friends anytime. Just don't come at us crying because they abused you. You see, if your man can kill a woman," she drops her hand and looked at me with cold, empty eyes.

❤️ LOVE AND PAIN Season 2 — Chapter 85: The Custodian Nobody moved. The stranger sat quietly behind the desk, studying them with calm, patient eyes. Not nervous. Not surprised. Not threatened. Just waiting. As if this meeting had been scheduled years ago. Daniel immediately took one cautious step backward. "Okay." A pause. "This is somehow more terrifying than armed security." Honestly— fair. Very fair. The older person smiled faintly. "You must be Daniel."

Apollo's hawk-like eyes become more deadly as it ever was. He cannot believe her calling him a stranger. Even so, he triggers her more. "Strangers never dare to taste each others," Emily lost all her patience at what she hearsd. "Shut up! What are you spilling out of a sudden?," she is now standing fumingly mad. "Oh Emily! You are the first one who started it. Am I a stranger to you? Seriously?" "What now if you are a stranger to me? Why do you care? I forget you long enough to forget why I needed too."

The two of them stumbled hard against the side of the sedan. The stranger fought back with surprising strength, twisting violently to break free. Michael tightened his grip. "Who are you?" No answe. Only hurried breathing.The stranger shoved him with both hands. Michael slammed into the side mirror. Pain shot through his shoulder, but he reached again, catching the stranger's hand for a split second. Something metallic scraped against his palm. The stranger jerked away.The car door slammed shut. The engine roared. Gravel sprayed beneath the tires as the sedan shot through the open gate and disappeared down the empty road.

Curiosity punched into her system, and she called, “Who are you? Do you live nearby? And what are you doing here at this hour?” “He’s coming for you… too,” the stranger said without turning to face Heather. “Who?” “He’s coming for you too… he’s coming for you too… he’s coming for you too. And this time, he’ll not leave. He’ll eat, he’ll roast, and you’ll cry and die,” the stranger chuckled, a maddening noise that reverberated. Heather covered her ears, afraid if she listened anymore, she’ll consider herself a demented cow.

He yanked her forward violently and slammed her against the wall. Pain exploded through her head. A warm liquid immediately began trickling down her forehead. Blood. Lena's vision blurred. The stranger looked around quickly before pulling down his zipper. "No!" Lena cried. He grabbed her arm. Then forced her down onto her knees. Lena struggled desperately. Her heart pounded wildly inside her chest. Tears mixed with the blood running down her face. Just when she thought things couldn't get worse— A powerful force slammed into the stranger. The man flew backward and crashed onto the ground.

He nudged her again, a more insistent gesture this time, as if urging her to move, to leave this place of violence and death. Elara nodded, a slow, hesitant movement. She understood. This was not a place to linger. The scent of blood, the echoes of the brutal fight, would draw other, less benevolent creatures. She pushed herself to her feet, her legs protesting with every movement. The stranger watched her, his golden eyes never leaving her face, a silent guardian in the encroaching darkness. He seemed to sense her weakness, her exhaustion, and without a word, he moved to her side, his massive form a reassuring presence.