Vera Claythorne And Then There Were None Novels & Stories

"It was a plot. Silas Greythorne murdered King Aldric and framed my ancestor to start the war. We have proof-letters, diary entries, everything. "Rowan's voice was full of disdain as he said, "I've seen the 'proof' circulating online." It's convenient that one dead scapegoat be blamed while the vampires are exonerated.

She said before she tiptoed out of there and vanished behind a car. Vera looked behind her at the staircase as she felt Tory move under her hold. Tory had grown her own claws and was about to pierce them in her shoulder to show Vera was hurting her. But before Tory played any trick, Vera beat her to it. She grabbed Tory's hand and made her claws rip her skin on the neck and tear it open. "Aahh! T-tory... You... Kill me... Argh..." Vera winced and fell back while holding her neck.

Vera grunted and hurried after the man. Her head was still boiling. The thought of losing Balak was so bleak. She couldn’t imagine it after all these years of fighting in the white mountains. They have come too far to die now. They have seen too many deaths and have survived too many wars. It was too late. Please don’t die. The dark wood gave way to reveal a small house is standing in the middle of the clearing, with darkness serving as a candle. Vera panted and hid behind one of the trees. The door of the house cracked open as the vampire hurried in and shut it behind him. She could feel the throb on her forehead. It obviously was the effect of running and thinking at the same time.

led, standing so suddenly my chair scraped violently against the stone floor.Veronica turned slowly, hands folded in front of her. “Rumors,” she whispered. “Nothing confirmed.”I stalked toward her, every step measured, controlled. Barely. “You live under this roof. You warm my bed. And you never thought to tell me there were whispers of Clara?”“She was presumed dead,” she stammered. “You said it yourself. You searched for months. She vanished.”I closed the distance between us in a blink. “So did my soul,” I hissed.Veronica paled.“Get out.”She fled. Wise again.The door slammed, and I was alone once more—except for the ghosts that never left me.Clara.I saw her now in my mind’s eye—fierce, glow

“Bring them both back home. Now.” Ceaser went to Clara and gently touched her shoulder. “Miss Stone,” he said softly. “Mr. Thompson wants us to go back. It’s not safe for you to be here.” Clara, a ghost of a person, just nodded, her face wet with tears, her eyes hollow and empty. She got into the car, and they drove back to the Thompson estate, leaving behind the happy wedding, the perfect lie.

one of the press staff called out. “Charlotte Vane’s here,” Veronica said. “She has the original documents and the video statement ready for distribution.” Clara moved to the podium, her heartbeat steady. Around her, the world buzzed and clicked and murmured—but inside, she was silent. Centered. She looked up at the glass tower in front of her. Banks Enterprises. A monument to power, legacy—and deception. Once, she had looked up to it as a child, in awe of its grandeur. Now, she saw it for what it was: a fortress built on silence.

I'm typing a response when footsteps echo behind me. I run. The mansion is a maze when you're panicking. I take random turns, trying to get back to areas I know. Finally burst through a side door into the gardens. Right into Damon. "Clara? What the hell… you're covered in dust and bleeding…" "The archives. Helena was there. They were going to kill me." The words tumble out. "I found Margaret Chen's journal. She figured it out seventy years ago. Elara's been poisoning the mates, sabotaging the transformations…"

The city lights shimmered through the penthouse windows, casting soft shadows across the sleek marble floor. The air carried a faint hint of jasmine—Elara’s signature scent—mingling with the crisp night breeze slipping through the slightly open balcony doors. Elara stood by the window, a glass of wine in her hand, staring at the skyline. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—Victor’s visit, the hidden threats within Thornfield Industries, and the war she was waging both in the corporate world and the underworld.

Crashes and snarls led me toward the children's wing. I found Vera battling Vivian and two vampire rogues in the main hallway, her hybrid form engaged despite her pregnancy making the transformation risky. She moved with deadly precision, every strike calculated to protect the corridor behind her that led to our children. One vampire rogue lay dead already, his body torn apart and scattered across the floor. Vera had killed him quickly and moved on to the next threat without hesitation. The remaining vampire rogue was fast, using enhanced speed to dodge Vera's attacks while looking for openings. Vivian stayed behind him with her poisoned blade, waiting for chances to strike when Vera was dis

The anger simmered down to something manageable, a heat I felt but could breathe around. There was only one left, standing there, unmoving. I turned back, ready to rip through him, but then Vera roared and tackled him, knife to his throat, claws digging into his shoulder. I couldn’t be sure, but her claws looked… oddly like they were made of silver. I knew of no werewolf with silver claws. More importantly, hadn’t the pack all said she couldn’t shift? Something about it prodded at the back of my mind. A story I’d long forgotten attached to my mother’s face that still ripped me open more than it soothed me.