Novel & Cerita The Pale Blue Eye Louis Bayard

WANTED ALIVE Name: Blue Iris Clayton Age: 24 years old Hair color: Natural blonde Eye color: Blue Height: 163 cm Body type: Slender OFFENSE: Stealing West Colony’s property REWARD: Ten cartons of goods. Protection and be a citizen of West Colony. CONTACT US IMMEDIATELY “Fuck!” Dread bolted through me. “Have you seen that woman?” I stiffened and my hand tightened the hold on the poster. “Excuse me?” I eyed the man beside me. He had thick dark blond hair. Shorter than me in a few inches, but had a few pounds and had deep brown eyes, and there was something in those orbs that gave me unsettling chills. He was wearing a clean shirt for someone who came to trade.

* *******Somewhere deep in a Louisiana Bayou***** ***Anonymous POV*** Sitting in my garage, grease-streaked hands tightening bolts on my Road King’s new pipes, I let the phone ring. *Too early for Ti Blan’s report.* But instinct prickled—the same itch that’d saved my ass in ’05 when Hurricane Katrina tried to drown New Orleans. I snatched the phone. *“Report.”* “Boss, she’s here—the girl with the moon scar. Louise is spiraling. You said to call if…” Ti Blan’s voice crackled, tiny with fear.

God. Mountains don't move. Fair. Not usually. Reasonable honestly. Then another pulse of blue light illuminated the sea. And everyone saw it. A giant black shape. Larger than a ship. Larger than the lighthouse. Larger than anything Lily had ever seen. The water poured from its surface like waterfalls. Then two lights appeared. Blue lights. High above the waves. Eyes. God. Eyes. Fair. Massive eyes. Reasonable honestly. Then Peanut buried her face against Lily's shoulder.

His cock was about 7 inches long, not too thin or too thick. Drawing another breath, I peered up at him. Lysander's eyes locked with mine. The blue of his eyes looked almost artificial. I'd never seen that shade of blue before and had always been enthralled by it. Well, that was before I died, before he pushed me into that abyss with a smile. Now, I have nothing but contempt for this man.

I told myself, maybe he's just intrigued by me, and once he gets what he wants, he'll completely forget about me! My heart tighted, and I was about to politely decline Prince Louis's kind offer when I suddenly caught sight of his eyes. He stared at me with those clear, ocean-blue eyes, as intense and focused as the sea outside. His thick eyelashes cast a small shadow below his eyes. His face held little expression, but it completely captured my gaze.

They were working on a project. “I can’t get the exact shade of your eyes. What should I do?” France and Fabian looked at Vladimir, who crawled closer and showed them his sketch. Fabian coughed, and France’s mouth dropped open. Even I was stunned by Vladimir’s drawing. “You can just use blue, right?” Fabian asked, pointing to the paint. “They look blue at first, but they’re not,” Vladimir said, staring at their eyes. France grabbed a mirror and examined her eyes. Fabian peeked in too. I laughed quietly—France looked so cute.

His pale blue eyes add to his intimidating demeanour. Sat on the same part of the sofa is Ataz Vaganay. They look nearly identical with the same stern expression except where Tobin has light colourings Ataz is dark with dark black hair and sharp brown eyes. He has a nature affinity, we all do to an extent but where each of us can control one element Ataz can control them all. He’s also able to draw one from the other. I watched as he altered water into fire and then stone, something none of us can do. Leaning against the window is Odette Boudet with a pout on her face her eyes narrowed as she glares down at Naomi as if she is a bug waiting to be squashed she tosses her sandy blonde hair over

Alex said, leaning across the table almost eagerly. I narrowed my eyes to Louis; I had no idea he had seen me with someone. Was he talking about Lila? Or maybe Connie? “Oh yes, she was gorgeous!” Louis went on to say as he described the woman I was with; I knew, at that moment, he was talking about Lila. “A violet and a blue eye?” Mike asked, his eyes widening. “I’ve only seen someone like that once in my life…” Mile continued to breathe, getting all our attention. “She was a Volana.”

“Tell me more about you.” Rhobart laughed. “I am a simple man. Nothing interesting about me. But you, Ayla, you fascinate me.” Ayla arched an eyebrow. “What can be so fascinating about me?” Rhobart stopped in the middle of the street. “For example, your eyes. Did you know that they change their color based on your feelings? When you are upset or angry, they are grey-blue, and when you are happy, they are as blue as the sky.” He put his mouth close to her ear and said, “When I pleasure you with my mouth and fingers, they turn dark blue. I love how you say my name when you find your pleasure. It is music to my ears.”

Wide eyes stared out across the bay, where the rolling blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean rose and fell like the folds of a great bed sheet aired in the sweet, spring breeze. Her position was precarious but her resolve was steadfast. The sea breeze tousled her hair—turning it into ebony tendrils—and the face beneath was as pale as candle-wax, marred only by a splash of strawberry beneath her right eye where a birthmark lay like a livid isle in the blanched skin of her cheeks. There was a smile on her lips, as though she knew things that others did not, yet there was no fear.