Tristan Parker Novels & Stories

Now, he was up-close, less-angry and I could see him clearly now — his eyes were midnight blue, not dark. His grip on my hand loosened, "Hey, sorry about that," he said. Even his voice had softened. He bent down to pick up the condoms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "First day in town?" he said, stretching the box to me. I wished I could evaporate into thin air or maybe get abducted by aliens right this second. Anything but having this conversation. “I’m Tristan by the way.” He added, “And that's my brother, Nathan.”

Kendall poked Tristan's belly with one of his fingers, imitating the voice he makes with a child or animal, pulling out sharp laughter from my friend. Tristan Walker was a real bear. Tall with his one meter and ninety-six, blonde hair at shoulder height, green-blue eyes and a physique that left something to be desired. His belly was perfectly round and heavy, influencing his walk. He never bothered when we talked about his weight, helped with the jokes and seemed satisfied with the attention he received. The cheeks were raised and full, flushed with the French bronze of his blood. He was a bear, but not like the real ones, who attack and are furious. Of those in which you see in advertisemen

Parker stood inside the foyer and smiled at Sandra, nodding to her silently. “Who are all these people?” Cathy asked her with a frown as the man stepped out of the chapel. “The Chinese man is the photographer Creighton hired and his wife, and that was Parker, one of the security guards.” “You seem to know a lot of Creighton’s friends.” “It’s been a wonderful vacation,” Sandra giggled softly. If her sister knew exactly how she knew Chang and Miing, she would have thrown seven kinds of fits.

"If you apologize to her, I might still forgive you. But you need to spend some time away reflecting on what you've done. Otherwise, don't expect me to honor what we had." My ear was ringing from his ranting. I hung up, blocked his number, and deleted the contact in one smooth motion. The plane landed at my pack's airstrip. Waiting for me on the tarmac were my parents — and a stranger I had never met. "Sophie, this is Dorian." The name stopped me cold. He was the older brother Alaric had always talked about — the true heir to the Alpha title. When I had first come to Alaric's pack, Dorian had been away, training at another pack. Our paths had never crossed.

Instead, he drives me directly to my door, turning off the engine and turning to look at me, a serious expression on his face. "Sweetheart, I know you've had a shock, but I need you to promise me you aren't going to go in there and ignore what I've told you to do. If you call the police and not Cain, there'll be a whole heap more shit to come and this'll feel like a day in the park." I suck in a sharp breath and bite my lip, fighting back the tears. "That's not a threat, it's just a warning, those guys that had you, they're not the sort you mess around with. They've got people everywhere, so you call the police, you'll lead them right to you. The only person who can protect you completely is

“Yes and no” “What do you mean by that? Get straight to the point.” I say, already starting to lose my patience. “Chill, man. I think I know who the traitor is” “Who is the motherfucker?” I ask, my temper rising. Carson pauses for a moment, and says, “Kim”. “Kim” I can’t believe what I am hearing. “Yes, Kim” he reiterates. “I am coming right now” I state quickly. “Won’t you take Nala to school?” Carson asks.

The caller ID flashed with a blue light—Damien Cross. I slid the phone to my ear as I approached the door, looking through the optical peephole. The breath caught in my throat. Tristan was standing on the porch. He was draped in a tailored black overcoat that made his massive frame look even more imposing under the flickering orange security light. The sleet was melting on his dark hair, and his chiseled features were set in a severe, unreadable mask. He didn't look like a businessman or a hockey captain tonight; he looked like the Don of the Cheshire pack, ready to claim a debt.

------- *Across the parking lot Tristan watched her go his cigarette burning forgotten between his fingers* Tristan POV That bambina is so hot. I don't think I've ever met a girl like that in my whole life. There's no one who puts me off like she does. I was still thinking when someone jabbed me in the ribs. I nearly smacked the person's face. When I realized it was Derek—that idiot—I mean, I don't blame Ariana if she thinks he's the dumbest. He keeps nagging and nagging around like an old lady.

I ask. “Yes ma’am. You are my Padawan after all,” he says, grinning. “I will have to go back to the Academy for a couple of days before we go, though. Tracker is still hunting for Patrick, Peter, and Justine. I want to do a bit more digging on that before we leave. But we also have Alpha Glenn, Alpha Grady, and Gamma Nathan’s trials coming up, so we have a lot going on.” “Is it always this busy?”

I stared at the face of the man who turned around and looked at me straight and intensely. He's... he's Dexter... And what... what was that? Tristan?? What the fuck is this?! "Jasmine, meet him. He is Tristan Morelli, Mark's older brother, the oldest grandson in our family." The ground I was standing on seemed to shift, and everything felt chaotic. Dexter... ...is Tristan? "Hello, Jasmine." He said, his voice still the same, the feeling of my name escaping his lips still the same. "It's so nice to meet you." He extended his hand to me to shake mine.