The Ghost Of You Dramione Mga Nobela at Kwento

That's fair. Isa ignores both boy and ghost and rushes into the kitchen, fully aware of her sister's death glare towards her. Breathe Isabella. Breathe. She grabs the kitchen island to steady herself. She wasn't about to let him win. No, never! 'I'm killing him.' No! Do not, Daimen! Do not kill him! 'Why?' Is she seriously having an argument with a ghost in her head? This felt like a scene out of a fictional book.

For a second, no one moved. The blade in my hand buzzed with power, the rift behind us roared with hungry magic, and in front of us, Damon stood with a bloodied grin—and an army of hunters ready to kill. Kael stepped in front of me again, his chest rising and falling in sharp bursts. “You’re a ghost, Damon. We buried you with the Scar.” “And yet,” Damon said, spreading his arms, “here I am—alive—while your world bleeds.”

Alex grumbled and I hummed, "I'll appear before my father when the time is right." "What about Ginevra, how would she know?" He asked. "You don't worry your head about that one. She'll definitely find me." She was, after all, the smartest woman I had ever known. The Ghost will be dead by the break of dawn. The Ghost—Ricardo Sanchez will undergo a rebirth by the break of dawn. But even in my confidence, my heart still shuddered with questions. Would I truly be dead by the break of dawn, or would the universe be kind enough to grant me an opportunity at yet another life?

Her screaming mobilized the other people in the house and they were all coming to see what was wrong. “Ghost in the morning? Ma, usually, they come at night.” Daniella jested, but Paloma insisted that the ghost even smiled at her. “Believe me, I saw him. I saw Marcus coming out from Daniella’s room and he was already dead and cremated!” She informed the other guests but it seemed that nobody believed her, and discounted that she was probably drunk. How could she be drunk in the morning when she only had coffee?