Ted Dekker Series Books Novels & Stories

Alexander's POV** The stark, empty corridors of the building echoed with my hurried footsteps. My mind whirred with strategic calculations as I made my way to Derek’s body. Every decision from here needed to be precise and meticulous—any slip-up could mean chaos for our already fragile peace. I reached the room and paused for a moment before entering. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door, the metallic tang of blood immediately hitting my nostrils. Derek's lifeless body lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of crimson spreading around him. Seeing him like this, despite knowing the circumstances, didn’t invoke any sorrow. Derek had been a cruel, ruthless wolf who thought he could take what

Jessica said. “Hmm, that's not what your p***y is saying, Jessica. I know you touched yourself when you watched me and Miss Alice fucking. I know it turned you on so much and your pretty p***y dripped with cum.” Jessica squirmed as he kept speaking into her, ear while his fingers worked on her p***y. “I think you might enjoy a spanking too…” Jessica moaned when his eyes roamed around her chest and then licked the side of her face savagely.

Unfortunately, Derek continued speaking in low whispers every few minutes, asking questions, making comments about the books, distracting her just enough that she kept losing concentration. After the fourth interruption, she finally closed one of the books with more force than necessary. “You are incredibly distracting.” “Thank you.” “That was not a compliment.” “I still accept it.” Anne stared at him for a moment before exhaling quietly in defeat. “You really have a photographic memory?” “Yes.” “You can memorize all this?” “Easily.” She hesitated. Then finally pushed one of the books toward him. “Fine. Help me study.” Derek’s grin appeared instantly, smug and attractive in equal measure.

They were a passing thing. Yanta looked at the notices that were hanged on the notice board. The notices read: “Darrish Drinkwell, our greatest storyteller, is returning to scene with a second tome of his Tales Untold. The Hartin and Dartin Company are planning to publish a legend book. We will ask Drinkwell to write one more, if he accepts, well, you know the rest. Plan in advance, good folk; this is an opportunity unlike any other. You won’t cheaper copies that ours.

It was a perfect fit. Tara scoped the room for a place to put it. Maggie insisted she keep the book safe. The second-floor den had an enormous bookcase built into the wall. If she placed it on the top shelf it could easily blend in with the array of books of all shapes and sizes that were stuffed, shoved and crammed in rows from floor to ceiling. She felt a little light headed when she stood up. She couldn’t decide if it was from the power emanating from the book she held close to her chest or simply because she stood up too fast. Whatever the reason, she took the time to stand still and wait for her equilibrium to come back before heading off to the den. ****

Chapter 101 The following days were the most relieving for Talia. Knowing that Derek was aware of her secret surprisingly eased some of the pain of the weight she had been carrying for months. The room was empty now since Derek had gone off since morning to get some of his prefect duties done and so she had her head buried in a large book on the history of omegas. A soft knock suddenly sounded on the door, interrupting her. “Who is it?" She asked with a slight frown without looking up from her book.

Jared stood near the hearth, arms folded, broad and immovable as stone. No one had much to say. The work had already been done. This was the part where tension turned to patience. And patience was a cruel thing to ask of wolves who already knew blood was involved. Decker finally pushed away from the desk and crossed to the sideboard where a bottle of whiskey waited untouched. He poured a glass, looked at it once, then set it down without drinking. Tony glanced up. “That’s a bad sign.” Decker didn’t look at him. “Which part?”

At that moment, I felt it clearly. Leonard was even bigger than my husband. If I had not held back with all my strength, I would have cried out in fear. I felt him trying to go further. I knew I could not let this continue. I quickly grabbed Leonard's wandering hand and said in a low, rough whisper, "Please stop, sir. I'm Quinn Clarke. I'm your daughter's teacher. We've met before." When he heard that, he froze. He probably never imagined that the woman he was freely taking advantage of was actually his daughter's homeroom teacher.