The Grey Chapter Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 110 AMELIA’S POV The marble corridors of Grey’s palace were huge, echoing chambers of gold and obsidian that usually felt like the insides of a tomb. They were designed to intimidate, to suppress the human spirit under the weight of centuries of power and accumulated wealth. But today? Today, they felt different, it looked like a runway to me.

Most times, it’s only the priests that get to hear and what people discuss with the moon goddess every day in the temple. I shrugged and wept noiselessly, keeping most of my groans muffled in my throat. I didn’t want my words heard, because I fear the scandal will make that an alpha to be spotted in the temple. “I will do anything it takes. Just bring her back to us. Just make her wake from her illness. Just heal her.” I heard footsteps behind me. Maybe the priests were finally here. I turned and met Grey standing behind me. He looked sadder than I was, and his hair was scattered. I felt sorry for him. His suit looked rough. There were dried grasses and thorns all over his body, and the edge

Grey smiled, but a few seconds after, his smile turned into a scowl as his blue orbs focused on Caden, uncomprehending as of he was sizing Caden. "You can't make her happy anymore Grey, your presence will only hurt her so I suggest you back the hell off," Caden stood up, his hands clutching the desk hard, veins protruding in his arms. "I'm aware," Grey spoke, his voice evened coupled with his calm temperament, "I came to see you because I want you to give her these documents." Grey handed a brown folder, his pale and thin arms entering Caden's line of sight. Caden was stuck staring at his arms and only broke away when Grey coughed lightly.

which paid the mortgage and utilities. On the right monitor: a manuscript titled "The Gray Chronicles: Book Three." His publisher was getting impatient. They didn't know their best-selling dark fantasy author was literally a centuries-old being sharing a body with a teenager. The advance paid for Cara's... considerable wardrobe expenses. Shadowalker's voice echoed in their shared mindspace: "The protagonist's motivation in chapter seven remains unconvincing." "He's based on you," Northstar thought back, fingers flying over the keyboard. "Of course he's emotionally stunted."