Unscented Novel Emilia And Wesley の小説・ストーリー

III The night was dark, darker than any other night before. Iltiras walked down the lonely path, the darkness didn’t bother him. He was more than curious what will happen on this path in the middle of the night. Stories were told about power-eating demons and faeries that attack travelers around midnight. He wanted to see them for himself, or as he liked to say with eyes unclouded. No one really dared to walk the path alone; no one wanted to because of the trees and their long, dreadful shadows, which fell on them, that looked like men with bony fingers that ended with talons. The leaves in their bases were bloody red in color. His leg stepped on one of the piles that were in his way, he exp

Emily’s hands had instinctively pressed against his chest to steady herself. Their faces were now only inches apart. Emily could feel the warmth of his breath. Her heartbeat suddenly felt louder in her ears. Their eyes met. Something invisible shifted between them. The accidental touch of their lips had awakened something neither of them fully understood. A strange warmth spread through Damien’s chest. Inside him, his wolf stirred violently. She’s our mate. The word echoed through his mind with sudden certainty. At the same moment, Emily felt something unusual ripple through her body. A strange pull she could not explain seemed to draw her closer to him.

Enzo dropped onto his back in the grass. “The bookworm beat us,” he groaned. “I’ll never recover from this.” “Perhaps you should read more,” Silas replied. “They say it exercises the legs.” Laughter filled the clearing. Even Fenrir, who rarely smiled, let out a rough chuckle. I looked at Emili. She was sitting in the grass, the last of the partial fur retracting, her bare skin glowing in the sunset light. She looked at me with an expression that combined amusement, lingering desire, and something softer I didn’t dare name for fear it might disappear.

Her movements were graceful, practiced, the movements of a woman who had spent years perfecting the art of hospitality. Nicole hesitated. Every instinct told him to leave. To not step into whatever game Emilia was playing. He had seen enough of her manipulations to know that she was never innocent or sincere, never anything but calculating. But he needed answers. And if Carl wasn't here, perhaps he could get Emilia to provide them. He stepped inside. The interior of the mansion was as neglected as the exterior. The air smelled faintly of decay, the kind of musty odor that came from closed rooms and unopened windows.

Her hand touched a small box with an unusual symbol on it that seemed to glow like the sun. She pulled open the lid and picked up the book inside to see it. She read its name under her breath, "Exorcism: Eldritch Werewolves." Her eyes widened when she found out it was a witchcraft book about werewolves. The words "magic" and "witches" didn't sound right in her mind, and she didn't want to believe the things she was reading, but somehow she did. She put the book back into the box and saw the ashes that scattered nearby. From among the ashes, she saw a half-burnt picture of Emily and the scarf she had given her on her last birthday. It brought tears to Esen's eyes.

It would affect our business relationship. However, I couldn’t help it. Princess Eliza wasn’t an ordinary and weak female werewolf like others. She had something unique in her. Her eyes, her aggressive and fearless behaviour, her wolf’s power, even her scent- everything about her was like an enigmatic riddle as if she was indomitable; out of reach. I didn’t know what bothered me much- Was it her striking beauty or her fearless gaze! But, talking with her just for a few minutes, I realised why Keir was still craving a meeting with that female.

she whispered, her voice small and scared. Lucas Antonio,a man in his late thirties, a name whispered in boardrooms with reverence, a titan of industry, knelt before the small, broken child. The man who commanded vast energy empires, whose decisions swayed markets, found himself humbled by the profound grief etched on Ava's face. He recognized the hollowness in her eyes, a mirror of the despair he had once known. He gently lifted her into his arms. Her small body trembling against his.

Diego’s POV The moment I caught her scent, I didn’t think twice. Her fragrance—wild honey laced with the sharpness of wolfbane—cut through the night air like a blade through silence. I had been lingering at the edges of the mansion grounds for hours, pacing the perimeter, torn between staying hidden and answering the pull inside my chest. But when her presence shifted—when her heartbeat quickened as though it was searching for something—I couldn’t stop myself.

I let my feet move against the friction to slow down my pace. Her baby blue dress is dancing with hair when she spins to face me. I glared at the wall and muttered, “show off.” I heard her giggle and then stretched her arms to hug me. I smell lavenders as I sniff to her clothes. How can this woman use a sleep aroma for perfume? “Oh don’t be such a wiener, Emilia,” she giggled. I rolled my eyes and asked her what is she doing here.

“Oh wow. Umm, okay. Let me see how to open these.” Emily shrugged her bookbag off and pulled out a can of the scent erasing spray. “I am going to spray this,” she continued talking softly to the wolf cub, “because I got out of a cage too and a bad man is looking for me.” She shook the can and sprayed her hands before touching the latches and sprayed where she had touched the camouflage cover.