Novelas y relatos de Tears Of Gold Book

The door slammed shut with a heavy, airtight *thud*, cutting off the roar of the burning mansion completely. As Marcus slid into the driver's seat and jammed the vehicle into reverse, the sedan accelerated away from the burning crater of the Gilded Fortress, plunging deep into the fog-heavy upstate roads. Vivian stared out the tinted rear window, watching the orange glow of the fire fade into the gray mist. She reached into the pocket of her torn cashmere sweater, her fingers brushing past a small, hard object she had managed to snatch from the floorboards of the master suite before the explosion.

Grips. The gold doesn't waver.

she said, reaching for the ledger. The moment her fingers touched the cover, pain lanced through her hand. She gasped, jerking back, but it was too late. Blood welled from a tiny cut on her palm, a cut that hadn't been there before, and dripped onto the ledger's cover. The book absorbed the blood like parched earth drinking rain, then it began to glow. Silvercrest runes materialized across the cover, shifting and rearranging themselves. With a soft click, the book fell open to the first page.

Nate gave me a reassuring smile before following to ensure proper procedures were followed. I sat on the wooden swing outside my door, watching snowflakes melt on my fingertips. My communication crystal vibrated. A message from an unknown sender appeared: "Think you've won, Isabelle? I'm carrying Karl's pup. Your victory is temporary." I laughed bitterly and deactivated the crystal. Natalie was both foolish and pitiful, sacrificing everything for a wolf with no loyalty. I removed the small red box from my pocket that Karl had left. Inside was indeed a ring—the first one he had ever given me.

He said the smell of cooking oil on my skin made him sick. One time, I bought myself a birthday cake to celebrate with him. But he threw it straight in the trash just because I'd set it on the floor for a second while unlocking the door. "Trash is where filth belongs, and that's where you belong, too." Then, why did all his rules go out the window when it came to Vivian? My eyes stung. I tilted my head back, blinking hard at the sky to hold back the tears. But then it hit me—the dead couldn't cry. I was a spirit trapped between worlds, maybe because my attachment ran too deep to let me move on.

I called anxiously. “Watch,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the center of the lake. The water directly before me began to bubble, then rise. A single droplet separated from the lake, hovering in the air. It wasn’t water, though. It looked more like a diamond, and it shone brightly in the moonlight from every angle. “What is that?” I whispered. “The Tear of the Moon Goddess,” my father explained reverently. “Legend says she wept when she gave her power to the first wolves. Her tears crystallized and sank into the earth, appearing only when true need arises.”

The money I had left was less than ten thousand naira after sending most of it to my mom. After cleaning my room and taking a bath, I felt empty. This wasn’t my body anymore, it felt foreign, like something had been stolen and could never be returned. As I stepped out of my room again, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I turned back and threw myself onto the bed, my knees hitting the floor. My body shook with agony. But no amount of tears could bring back who I was before. It was gone, and gone forever.

"We'll talk about it some other time, I have to go. I'll call you later man." I ended the call and quickly checked out Echoview Magazine's website. The article about Shay was also there and I smirked when I read the headline right above a picture of her standing inside her office with a file in her hand, looking to the side; 'SAN FRANCISCO'S GOLDEN GIRL SECRETLY WORKING AT CARTWRIGHT & EVANS HOLDINGS!'

I watched, my eyes wide, as he took his primal warrior form, their bodies twisting upon the silk sheets. His boiling, golden ichor poured from his body into hers.