The Slayer Gamer Fanfiction Mga Nobela at Kwento

- his unseeing look spoke of the memories that surfaced in his memory. - Not all Elian. Some of the hunters are too young. They are raised to hate supernatural beings. They are manipulated like puppets. They lead us without letting us know what we really are. - What do you suggest? Brandon spoke up. - Reach out! The Slayer leaned back in his chair and grinned grimly. - Do you think for so many centuries no one has tried? - They're not me. - Don't be so self-confident.

Wasn't this the game of the fates the old priest was mentioning, that my mere existence was enough to drop us in front of each other? I did not want to get him trapped with me, but I was selfish enough to not let him be someone else's. If he was not chasing me, he would obviously be after another female. He was a living being and he had his needs, he would not waste his whole life away just for a female he barely knew. Like Myself. He was ready to kill his own mate, why would he care too much about just an ordinary female who was a guard to his sister? But either way, unless I die, I didn't think it wouldn't affect me if he were to be with someone other than me.

I saw the lust in his eyes and knew his eyes mirrored mine. Abel cleared his throat, and everything shattered. All of the lust and pull came crashing down as I stepped backwards. He was Andrei’s brother. Blood siblings with my fated mate. I was not allowed to like him. Or want him. We both cleared our throats, and I looked away shyly. "I would walk alone, thank you," I said curtly as I stood up and hurried away. I placed my hand on the wall once I was out of sight. What nearly happened?!

Unity unquestionable. The world cheered. Inside, two people fought a war no one could see—against contracts, against families, against themselves. And somewhere beneath the performance, something irreversible had taken root. Not passion. Not fantasy. But something far more dangerous. Attachment.

You're probably jealous of him. —You're so foolish and naive that you fell in love with your tormentor. He's not the one you see from your window when you spy on him," she whispers in my ear, "He's a sadistic killer who takes girls, makes them his slaves and gives them such a torturous death that even though... they beg for their death, he dismembers them alive. My heart stops when I hear that. —That is not true. —My lips tremble as I say it. —It's... a lie.

“Sh‌e is⁠ playing mind games.​ But sh‌e hasn’t s​een my other version​s.” Leon stopped mov​ing. We were in the center of the floor, the music swelling ar​o‍und us, but we we‌r​e a s​tatue of raw, unadulterated fri​ction. He leaned down, hi⁠s br‍eath hot aga‌inst my mouth. “A‌nd‍ what version a‌m I looking at, Sloane⁠?”‌ “The one that‌ belongs to me,” I said, my voice dropp⁠i⁠ng‍ to a danger‌ous l​eve‍l. “The rea​l me. Not the professio​nal one.”

What a cruel joke that twins would be destined to save the world. Liam launched toward the twins first. He did not aim to rescue them, not with the black chains lashing around his wrists and the venom flooding his veins. The slayer within him surged to the surface, uncoiling with a speed and clarity that was almost beautiful—if anything forged for murder could be called beautiful. He reached Bella in three steps, tackling her and shielding her from the next blast of the shadow dragon’s wrath. The impact tore open his own wound again, flooding the floor with blood, but he didn’t flinch, his eyes fixed on his target: the Queen, who had not moved from her stone-cold position beside the altar.

Damn her! “Protect, you say?” She pulled my collar, forcing me to stare at her wintry eyes full of contempt. “They betrayed me. They had turned their back on me. In their eyes, I can see myself reflecting back as a monster. Tell me, which is worth protecting there?” She coldly spat before giving me another hard punch on the face. The room echoed groans and jabs. She had been doing her stuff for minutes now until she chose to stop. “Well, since you know I am onto exterminating you all,” The slayer uttered as she strolled towards the door, planning to leave. “Why don’t you get ready for it?” She said that and then left the room.

probably a hundred years ago. "Want to talk about it?" Skylar asked, feeling troubled for her friend, Shailyn was more than a friend, although she was older by so many years, Skylar felt a sense of responsibility, she felt like it was her duty to protect this fragile-looking fairy that always acted newer than her age... Skylar felt like she was taking care of a little sister. Shailyn nodded before explaining the encounters she had with the Gamma of the Pack and how she felt every time she was around him, leaving out voices she heard in her head.

She then shouted out and leaned back against the chair with her head thrown back. Shay went over to her side. He then raised his hand and slapped Skylar harshly across the face. Skylar gasped out loud and clutched her face. “Shay, you…” “I’m sorry, Miss Sky. When I play battle games with Shay, he’ll always slap me once to ensure that I’m really dead whenever I pretend to be dead. That’s why he slapped you just now. I’m really sorry,” Logan apologized. “Oh, it’s alright. It’s fine…” Skylar said with a stiff expression on her face.