Vallyk Pena Novels & Stories

“This is Crown Prince Valen Wolverson, our soon-to-be werewolf King and his Beta, Devin Smithson.” Mikayla emitted a feeble, “Hi.” “Open the cell,” Valen commanded, firm and flat. His aura had the same burning, upward-pushing energy as a Saturn V rocket. Depending on his words, it either sucked you in or spat you out. Axel stepped forward with the keys and performed the task, sliding the silver bar door open. Mikayla did not move and her pale blue eyes rested only on me. “So you are the little fairy who managed to tie down this stubborn Alpha?” Valen informally asked to help her relax. Mikayla twisted her mouth in the cutest way that made me want to kiss her. “Come out, Mikayla.”

This was something else entirely. The variation ended with Valeria on the floor, one leg extended in a perfect arabesque penche, her torso folded forward until her cheek nearly touched her shin, her ass tilted toward the mirrors in shameless offering. The final note throbbed into silence. Elena let it hang there. Then she crossed the floor, heels of her pointe shoes striking like gunshots. “Get up.” Valeria rose slowly, unhurried, eyes lowered in a parody of submission that fooled neither of them.

Kealy shuddered once more, “That’s a terrible wager.” “Not if you win it isn’t,” Dilo growled with a smirk, “What do you say Venya?” “How confident are you Kealy?” Venya asked, turning to face her, “Quick they are near the clearing, I want to see Dilo lick it so I have something to laugh at her about. Like imagine in a month or two when she is telling a story in a tavern, then we burst out, hey remember that time you licked a dead snake’s eye?”

I had to beg for someone to help me to the pack doctor that day. Some of the things I remember as offensive about the people in the cell were things that happened a long time ago, things I had even forgotten and had to force myself to remember right now. But the point was that I could remember at least one offensive thing about everyone present, and I realised that Tyler was right. Gavrael had searched my memories and found every single offensive memory, then punished the people responsible, at least those that weren’t killed during his pack invasions. The fact that he did this would have been a sweet gesture if it wasn’t so preposterous. Why would you punish someone for taking my lollipop w

a voice sliced through the din like a well-aimed dart—familiar, laced with that irreverent edge that could disarm a basilisk. I turned, a reluctant smirk tugging at my lips, to find Lena Vale lounging against a marble pillar like she owned the damn thing. Tall and lithe, with skin like polished mahogany and hair cropped short in a defiant pixie cut dyed electric blue at the tips, Lena was a storm in human form. Descended from the Vale fox-shifters—cunning scouts who'd spied for my father's forces during the wars—she moved with a predator's fluid grace, her hazel eyes sharp as flint, always scanning for the next angle, the next joke.

"The gun in your hand is a revolver. Its name is the Desert Eagle pistol, often called Deagle, and it only holds seven bullets, whereas pistols can usually hold 15 or even 20. The reason for this is that the bullets for Deagle are large. After all, one Deagle bullet has the same impact as 3-4 regular bullets. The plus point of this pistol is that it has high laying power in a single attack." "Wow, not bad. I'll keep this. I have to go back, give my regards to Jack. I'll be in touch often. Bye, my sweet sister." Valencia closed the box and put it into the bag Zean had prepared. At the same time, Valencia found things unexpected. Especially her feelings for Asher, which somehow grew to the poi

The air softens and people start moving again and organizing. When the crowd thins, only a few remain—Kael, Roman, Zeke, me… and one man I haven’t seen before. He’s tall. Too tall, honestly. His eyes are a beautiful violet shade, his skin pale but not sickly. There’s something quietly dangerous about him, like the air freezes a little when he moves. Kael gestures toward him. “This is Valen Cross,” he says. “General of the vampire fighters.” Vampire. He's a vampire. He's...just what I imagined a vampire to look like. Sinfully beautiful, but dark and...cold.

They were all screaming Elspeth's name. Silently I stood up from where she attacked me. She has no knowledge that I blocked her attack. I sighed and removed the waterfall braids onto my hair before I break their fun. "Silence!" I screamed loud, and with one word, what I wanted was then granted. Pure silence covered the place as I ascend, glowing because of my aura. I held my head high and turned my gaze to the demons around me. With a glare, one by one they went down onto their knees. "I am Veronica Vane. I am your one and only true Queen and Herald. No impostor can bring me down to the ground."

VENDETTA ( Love of Darkness or Night) Written by: Authoress Ricky Genres: Action , Erotica , Drama NINE VENDETTA My phone rang immediately he left and it a call from an unknown so I pick it up after making sure Rainal and Kelvin are far away. "Hello?"I whispered "Thank goodness you are still alive"It Laura. "How did you get_" "Why are you whispering?"she questioned. "I'm in something important can you_"I got interrupted again.

I watched Rhyker standing behind the counter and flipped the scrambled eggs with his pan, he was shirtless and wore a white apron with black joggers. He had one particular tattoo on the back of his neck, it's a drawing of a crown, the crown of Rosla. He whistled while making scrambled eggs. "Are you awake Hemilia? I'm sorry I wasn't in our bed, I wanted to make breakfast for you." He said not looking at me, I gawked at his strong and broad back that is able to give comforting hugs from him. "What's the special occasion?" I chuckled and walked toward him, he turned around and smiled.