Novelas y relatos de Varka

My wolf roared, itching to rip Varkis apart for whatever game he and Rhea were playing. Vera nodded, her raven hair sticking to her cheeks from the temple’s damp air. “Let’s end this,” she said, her voice steady but edged with fury. “Fan out,” I ordered, glancing at Dax and Jace. Vera pulled her phone, fingers flying as she hacked a nearby drone. The screen lit up, showing Varkis’s hulking figure sprinting through an alley two blocks away, the stolen shard glowing in his grip. “Got him,” she said, her smirk fierce. “He’s heading north.”

Her voice caught in her throat as she twisted around. It wasn’t Fenrak. Varek stood at the edge of the firelight, his dark cloak dripping with mist, his golden eyes glowing in the shadows. There was a cruel smile curving his lips, slow and deliberate, as he stepped forward. “Hello again,” he murmured, his voice smooth as velvet and sharp as a knife. “Little Crimson.”

When I have to inhale, the scents of spice, the woods after the rain, and leather fill my lungs. Varek pulls away and stands in front of me with his arms folded across his chest. His short-sleeved shirt shows off his massive muscles. His dark eyes seem to bore through me, and I continue to try to out-silence him. “How odd that you don’t have anything smart to say.” A small smile pulls up one corner of his mouth in a sarcastic smirk. I win. “I didn’t see the point. It’s not as if you care what I have to say.” I match his smirk.

It was named the Veradis Lake, meaning blue-green lake. Today, I continued to train them on how to use the sword on a solo drill. I demonstrated to them with the use of my own poniard, while they held a blue metal sword. The metal was called cirthum. It was light and definitely good for the boys to train and learn fast. The blades shined as light hit them.

"That's when it will move. It's been patient for twenty years waiting for exactly that window." The sitting room was quiet. Eve looked at the fire. Sixty seconds. Twenty years of patience for sixty seconds. "What's its name," Damon said. "Varek," Vessa said. Nobody said anything for a moment. "Can it be stopped," Damian said. "Not the way you're thinking," Vessa said. "It's not something you fight with strength or strategy. It doesn't have a physical form you can attack." She paused. "The only thing that stops Varek is completing the binding faster than it can move through the window."

The weather had been hot lately, so the two of us shared a pink parasol, weaving happily through the bustling crowd. It seemed Xiya had used all her self-control on quitting cigarettes and men, because her urge to shop had completely exploded. She dragged me into Mojin Era, the most expensive brand castle in all of Vanaheim. Ninety percent of the goods in that castle were air-shipped from Mojin Harbor—which meant ninety percent were imported.

She looked no older than thirty and very much alive. The image flickered weakly across the wall while ancient magic struggled to hold the memory together. “She came here willingly,” Aria whispered. The woman in the memory stood before another door deeper inside the mountain. Unlike the broken silver ring above, this one was enormous, black stone covered in glowing red fractures. Three other figures stood behind her. They were warriors and guardians. One of them carried the crest of the old northern kingdom. The vision distorted briefly. Then the woman spoke. “We seal it tonight.”

--- Elsewhere, beyond the kingdom's borders. Rain lashed against black stone. A fortress carved into the mountains overlooked a sea of mist. Inside its highest tower, Varak stood before a massive fire. He was taller than most Alphas, his broad shoulders wrapped in a dark wolf-fur cloak. A jagged scar crossed one side of his face, yet his amber eyes burned with frightening intelligence. He wasn't a brute. He was patient. Behind him, Elias entered the chamber. He dropped to one knee. "My lord." Varak did not turn.

“Now I understand why Orion’s been hanging around you. You’re a very nice prize.” “I’m not a prize, buddy,” I snapped angrily. “Maybe keep your eyes to yourself unless you want to lose one.” “I like that,” Varek said while nodding and rubbing his round stomach. “Shows passion and fire.” He leaned closer, and I smelled strong whisky on his breath. “Makes me wonder where else you show that fire and passion. In the bedroom maybe? Or the shower? Maybe the bathtub?” “Goodbye,” I hissed before pushing my cart past him. I was not about to stand there listening to that disgusting creep any longer.

The touch was thick, warm, and possessive, sending a violent current of liquid fire straight down my spinal cord that made my wolf purr in absolute submission deep within my soul, my cunt getting moist instantly. He pulled back just an inch, his hot breath pouring across my cheeks as he lowered his head further, his lips trailing a path of burning heat down to the soft skin of my neck gland. He sniffed deeply, his nostrils flaring as he took in the flat, ordinary scent left behind by Willow’s bitter root remedy, still completely convinced that the mineral sulfur scrub from the bath was the only thing sealing my pheromones. “I’m leaving for a council meeting now, little bird,” Varg whispered