Tyler Locke 소설 & 이야기

"There was a boy. Young. Not much older than a teenager. His name is Tyler." "Tyler?" I repeated. "Leo’s friend," Imara said. "They were close. Leo treated him like a younger brother. Tyler was Blackwell’s golden boy for a while—fast, smart, and totally devoted. He was in charge of the courier runs between the staging grounds. If anyone knows where the final sequence is being held, it’s him." "Another name," Dante muttered, his voice dark. "Another shadow to chase." "Where is he?" I asked. "Where does Tyler hide?"

Evelyn's POV "I, Alpha Kyle Turner, reject you, Evelyn Sanders, as my mate." Alpha Kyle hoarse voice boomed in my ears making me freeze on my tracks, his voice laced with disgust. Crack! A cracking sound resounded inside my body and I felt as if a part of me was forcefully torn and taken away. My wolf howled in pain but there was nothing I could do about it. Tears flowed down my face as the pain became immeasurable, increasing with each second to the point I was unable to tolerate it. I could care less about the gazes on me. I was already used to it.

I couldn't help but ask. “Hockey.” He gestured toward the arena. “Titanfall’s playing tonight.” The blonde looped her arm through his, her eyes widening in a glossy, predatory sort of interest. “Oh,” she said brightly. “This is Lily?” An unpleasant chill coiled tightly in my stomach. Tyler noticed. He always noticed anything asides my happiness. His grin sharpened. “Yeah,” he said. “My ex.” Wonderful. Exactly the title I wanted. His girlfriend tilted her head. “The Lily?”

The east wing is quieter. Darker. The hallway is lined with photographs in expensive frames—all black and white. I pause to look at them. A young Tyler, maybe seven or eight, holding a baby in his arms. Bella, I realize. Even then, he looked fierce. Protective. Tyler as a teenager, standing over what looks like his first kill—a massive elk. Blood on his hands. Pride in his eyes. Tyler in a suit, younger but no less dangerous, shaking hands with men who look like they run countries.

Stephanie's POV: At 6’5”, Tyler towered over most people, his height and presence immediately commanding attention in any room. His broad shoulders and athletic build gave him the appearance of a man who is both powerful and capable, while his chiseled jawline and neatly groomed stubble add a rugged sophistication to his look. His dark brown hair, slightly wavy, was styled back neatly, revealing a high forehead and adding to his mature yet striking appearance. His hazel eyes are deep and intense, often flickering with a quiet confidence that makes him stand out.

“Tyler!” Without a second thought Loraine ran down the stairs and into the open space of the living room. She stopped dead when she saw Tyler openly crying as he struggled to get out of a large man’s hold. She looked up at the assailant, her hands fisted tightly to stop the shaking. He had a large grin on his face as he stared at her, his eyes traveling her body before it settled on her face again. “What do you want?” she demanded her eyes shifting between his creepy smile and Tyler’s tear stained face.

And with that said she left. "Lazy Lucy!" Jessie murmured after Jenna's disappearing figure, "Oya, tell me!". Jasmine inhaled deeply before rushing through her explanation, "I met this white guy at Micah's party and now he wants me to tour him around town." Very not bothered, Jessie continued chewing on her food, "Is it and old white dude?" "Early thirties," "Mmmm" Jessie hummed, still chewing in a very unladylike manner, "So just a plain normal white guy,"

Tyler looked petrified. It wasn’t true though. Lennon would never involve his dad in this. He’d never used his father’s power or name for anything in his life. He never really had to. Tyler muttered something. This time, his friends laughed out loud. “Huh? We didn’t get that.” “Sorry,” Tyler forced out. “We’re sorry.” Archer stared at him for another minute, like he was trying to judge how sincere he truly was. He seemed satisfied enough to turn, walked to where Lennon stood and grabbed his wrist.

Fuck him, honestly. “I will lock you up in a room, a room where there is nothing, nothing at all and just you, only you in the dark room. A room where you’d have access to nothing, you’d be stuck inside for as long as I want, the only face you’d get to see would be mine when I bring to you your three course meal of the day. Slowly you’ll lose your mind, your sanity and I will watch as you crumble to your lowest state, screaming for freedom when it’s just in my grasp, yearning for privilege when it is free of charge but not with me. After perhaps months or years of the psychological torture, then will I bring you out of that room. And nobody will ever question me about your disappearance Miss

*** LYON *** "Mouth says the screw-up is home right now, getting ready for another trip. He's had cabin fever since the lockdown, and now that things have been lifted, he has the need to trod the globe." "Tell her to keep him stateside for now. Is this kid good-looking?" "He's alright." "Doesn't matter; as long as he's got a Y chromosome, he'll do." We'd just landed in the backwoods of bumfuck Alaska after damn near a whole day. "How the hell did this kid make it all the way out here on her own?" Tyler came to stand next to me while the others got themselves together, what with stretching and groaning like women in the throes of labor.