The Last Ride Novel Novels & Stories

Kael roared. "I'm not fighting them." Lyra pressed the quill to her own palm. She dragged it across the skin. "I'm rewriting the debt." The sky cracked. A man in a gray suit appeared on the ridge. He held a silver briefcase. He didn't have a face. "The story is over, Lyra," the man said. The voice didn't come from him; it came from the ground beneath her feet. "Victor Blackwood finished the final chapter. You are the epilogue. Now, step into the briefcase."

The silence of the library was heavy, the air was thick with the scent of old paper and our combined arousal. Eventually, he pulled out, leaving me feeling empty but satisfied. He helped me straighten my clothes, his touch was gentle now, as if the professor was back. He walked me back to the table, his arm was placed around my waist, and we sat down to talk, but the mood was different now. The tension had been broken, but the connection remained. Pinky felt a flutter in her chest as she read the story. It was so vivid, the setting so unexpected the library, the shelves, the intellectual environment.

he said, driving into an isolated private driveway that led to what looked like the tallest skyscraper among the hundreds of skyscrapers that stood magnificently under the starry night. I placed my forehead on his shoulder and shut my eyes. Our ride has finally… come to an end. It was indeed a very… long ride. That was my last thought before I dozed off.

I texted her: I’m on my way. As I slipped out of the racing ground, I kept my cap low, avoiding familiar faces. The crowd was still wild with excitement, distracted by the victory ceremony. That gave me a perfect chance to disappear. The city lights blurred past as I rode my bike for the last time. The air was cool against my skin, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like freedom. Soon, I’d be gone—away from Cohen, from Papa’s lies, from all the secrets that had torn me apart.

the ride worker told us, looking done with the world and Ellie profusely apologized, completely embarrassed as I pulled her away, back towards the car. It was almost dark out and I did agree that the Ferris wheel would be our last ride. Still, it was sad that our date was coming to an end, as wonderful as it had been. “Sorry.” “No, no! It’s fine, just…yeah,” Ellie blushed, refusing to let go of my hand and I smiled fondly, opening the door for her, both of us quiet as I turned on the engine but didn’t drive off just yet. Ellie was fidgeting, a blush still on her cheeks, seeming at war with herself before she finally looked at me.

It’s all about faith. °°° The story ends here. Thanks for reading. Follow me on my I*, and get to know about my next book which is about their kids. Also, read my another book Beta Nocholas. It's a werewolf romance. Thanks again :)

"No, it's fine. You clearly need whatever space you're taking right now, and I'm not going to sit here and beg you to explain something you apparently can't even explain to yourself." I left before he could say anything else, and I drove home with my hands too tight on the wheel again, the same way they'd been that very first afternoon outside St. Andrew's, except this time the tears that came weren't shock, they were something quieter and more exhausted, grief for a bridge I'd genuinely believed we were finally building.

“But you stay focused. No heroics. Lila is priority. Then Caleb.” The ride out was fast. Silent. No jokes. No banter. Just the cold, brutal focus of men going to war. The rumble of their bikes filled the pre-dawn air. Each growl a promise of vengeance. The slaughterhouse loomed ahead. Black against the fading night. Windows shattered, like vacant eyes. Rust streaked the walls like dried blood. It reeked of decay, a perfect lair for a monster. Jax dismounted, gun in hand. His gaze swept the grim structure.

"Mr. Daniel has instructed us to take you home directly." Directly. Not a stop for coffee, not a moment to breathe in the city. Just home. She didn’t argue. The last time she had argued with Daniel, he had looked at her like she’d committed a personal crime, and she wasn’t ready to test how far his patience stretched. The ride was silent except for the hum of the engine. Through the tinted windows, the world passed in muted colors. Her mind, however, was anything but muted. North Ridge. The name pulsed in her head like a warning bell.

The jet waited, a sleek predator humming under the stars, engines whispering impatience. I boarded alone, the cabin sealing with a hiss that echoed my resolve. As the plane sliced through the night sky, banking toward the forsaken wilds of the northern territories, I stared into the void beyond the window—clouds parting like flesh under claws. *It’s gonna be your last day, Lisa,* I whispered to the darkness, jaw clenched so tight my teeth ached, the words a venomous prayer on my tongue. *Your schemes end in blood. And his—James’s—will paint the earth red beside yours.*