Summer's Dream Novels & Stories

His mind was fixated on one thing—that birthmark. "I wasn't being disrespectful. I only wanted to confirm the birthmark. Why are you so afraid? Unless… unless she really is my Arden! Did your family erase her memories so she wouldn't recognize me?" Determined, Wayne no longer cared how rude he sounded or what it cost him to offend the Henleys. Vincent moved to strike again, but I stopped him, signaling the guards to release Wayne. Under his watchful gaze, I slipped off the jacket and tugged the neckline of my backless gown lower. His eyes locked on my bare skin—smooth, unmarked, flawless.

The room was deathly silent except for the frantic beat of my heart in my ears. His low voice and the one from my dreams overlapped, weaving into a single key that unlocked my carefully built self-deception with a sharp click. He was Mr. Y—the man who sang off-key love songs to me at midnight, and the very same one who had chastised me relentlessly in the day. I stared at him. His handsome face was so close, and the usual coldness and distance were gone, replaced by a fragile, pleading vulnerability. The light in his eyes flickered like a candle tossed all night by a stormy wind.

Whatever happens, we face it together. Relief washed over Levi instantly. He grinned like an overjoyed puppy, curling into my arms before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against my lips. That night, I had a dream. I saw myself being dragged back to the Grant family estate. Silas had prepared a wedding gown for me, forcing me into a marriage I didn't want. Vivian sat in a chair with an eerie smile. My hands were tied, so my struggles were useless. Despair settled deep in my chest—I could already see the miserable fate awaiting me.

Annoyance? One thing was clear. This summer just got a whole lot more complicated...

Other times, they spiraled into something worse. Her body tensed suddenly, back arching as if in pain. "Don't take him... please..." That was enough. I couldn't bear to watch her suffer, even in sleep. "Summer," I called softly, my hand gently squeezing her shoulder. "Sweetheart, wake up. You're dreaming." She thrashed once, violently. "Summer," I said more firmly, letting a touch of my Alpha voice surface—not to command, but to anchor her to reality. "You're safe. Come back to me."

Scar wished her car could fly as she drove through the night. Her light caught the lone figure standing by the road side. She drove to a halt and wind down her window glass. “Summer” She called. The figure looked up,her eyes cold. She walked closer. “You are my new master” She asked. “Master” Scar scoffed. “Get in the car let's go home” Summer got into the car still cautious. “What should I do for you” She asked coldly, “Well you can just sit down and enjoy the ride”

What do normal people do when they come to Crete for a summer vacation? They probably post photos on I*******m with captions like "Sun, sea, sand #blessed," sip ouzo in the evenings, smash plates, and just soak up that effortless island vibe. And what am I doing? I’m covering my ears with my hands, counting prime numbers backward in my head, and trying not to lose my absolute mind. I am in a literal marathon to stay sane.

The second half of June was suddenly struck by a heat wave completely alien to the temperate climate zone in which Damian Radosz was located. Well, maybe not completely, because in summer the temperature could reach up to 40 degrees in the shade, but this was usually the case at the turn of July and August, not mid-June. After an endless winter, which lasted over eight months and a short spring that lasted a month, summer attacked definitely prematurely pouring real heat from the sky and sweeping through this part of Europe violent weather phenomena such as sudden, strong storms and even almost completely alien in this climate tornadoes.

The assistant said with a nod, “Summer has a strong connection to the Dream High Group, as its founder is the wife of Zayden Collins. And their son, Max, has a close relationship with Summer’s executive director Daniel, and his wife.” Clenching her fists, Beatrice said, “They are more untied than I expected. Why does this brat have to get involved in our business?” Beatrice's assistant said cautiously, “We probably underestimated Max Collins. Although he’s still a teenager, he behaves exactly like his father. He completed that difficult project in the South by himself.” “He completed it? I don’t think so.” Beatrice sneered, “Prepare a gift for that president of Azul Group.” “Yes,” the assist

WET DREAMS NICOLE POV “What the fuck??” I rubbed my eyes as I slowly got up from the bed. “Did I just dream about Raven and me almost—“ my body shivered. “No, no, no” she’s my stepsister for crying out loud. Shit, I can’t be sex dreaming about her. Hell to the motherfucking NO!!. Nicole.., a voice roared from the corridor. Today’s the baby’s funeral. Don't be late. Also, remember to be decent you slut. There’s no need to turn anyone on at such a sad occasion.