Vera Stanhope Book 12 Novels & Stories

It just holds back. It was as if cold water had been poured on Sheilla. She sat weakly on the sofa when the woman disappeared. Suddenly her chest tightened and she could barely breathe. Valerie ran to her room to get Sheila's medicine. Nikki took a fan to get some air. After taking the medicine. Her feeling widened Sheila thought that if she could marry a rich man she would inherit everything. But she was mistaken in thinking. All the treasures are named after her daughter Alysia. Now they even beat the beggar on the street. Urgh!

Vera appeared at the door. She wore black, her face pale as frost, her dead mate’s wolf crest pinned to her chest. The moment she walked in, several elders turned toward her with sympathy. Someone whispered, “Lady Vera still came tonight. She must be trying so hard.” Vera stopped in front of us and gave me a soft smile. “So this is Miss Hale,I’ve heard so much about you.” Kaelan glanced at her. “Vera, you should sit down if you’re tired.”

I whispered. "Yeah. The snake. She was sitting in the parlor, drinking tea with Elara, looking like the Queen of England. She didn't even acknowledge me. But I saw the look, Nova. The total, smug victory. That woman hates you." "She won, Vera," I said numbly. "She got rid of Camille, she killed my mother and Zachary with the stress, she destroyed my reputation with Killian, and she kept her spot." "She hasn't won yet," Vera corrected, pointing to the boxes. "You have your ID, your money, and your mind. We figure out the funerals, and then we figure out the escape plan."

Always positioned to be visible. Always shining beneath dirt and bruises. She was a jewel buried in the mud, and the right King knew how to dig up treasure. But his Luna Vera, she saw it too. Vera was razor-beautiful. Tall, lethal, with a mouth made for snarling. Her long black hair was braided tight like a crown of warning thorns. Her authority came not from softness, but from fear. She hated Veronica instantly. “If it looks like a whore and acts like a whore,” Vera sneered, repeating her mantra one morning.

A secret clue to something. In the library’s old steps, as expected, Veronica waited, unmoved from my mental image. Leaning with crossed arms, she scanned the street for who knows what. “Considering you just stood me up, you’re late.” Veronica responded with the same stress-less posture as every other time I’ve spoken to her. “Just two minutes late,” I replied, “What’s the rush?” “Not wasting time is something that matters. The prophet’s plan… it’s not going as it’s supposed to,” she replied.

"I told you yesterday that you should be very careful around Vera. This is just the consequence of your own actions." "You—!" Catherine trembled with rage, but as Lyall turned his icy gaze onto her, she immediately shut her mouth and cowered back into the crowd. With Lyall’s hand guiding me, I stepped up into the massive carriage. The interior was breathtakingly spacious, lined with thick, incredibly soft animal pelts. Vera's eyes gleamed with greed as she gathered up her skirts and reached for the carriage handle, clearly intending to climb in behind me. Before her foot could even touch the frame, Beta Caspian expressionlessly drew his longsword, blocking her path.

Rowan and I sat on the library steps reviewing Valera’s pencil marks like two people decoding a map to a larger country. Vera appeared once at a distance across the quadrangle, saw us, and did not approach. The non-approach had the feeling of a temporary calculation, not a conversion. I logged it as weather observation and returned to the page. Evening sales restored the body’s arithmetic: water, coin, dust, thank you, next. Tristan carried the crate when my shoulders began to argue. At the lodge, Bertha declared the week “excessively complete” and forced early tea. Sarel inspected my new navy notebook with approval. “Good binding. Do not waste it on soft thoughts.”

He asked, but Vera couldn’t find a suitable answer to give to him. “Well… Welcome.” She stuttered, unable to stop herself from looking away from Caspian. “I didn’t know that you were back, Caspian.” “Oh, I see. That’s why you decided to bring down my house with your voice.” Caspian snarled at her, and she quickly turned to me and pointed. “But I was not the only one speaking, Caspian! Selene’s voice could have been louder than mine!” “I think you should go upstairs, Vera.” Caspian didn’t want to listen to her, and she had to force herself to speak even though she decided to remain standing.

Vera, the same girl he saw at the party a few days ago. Inside a small, tucked-away bookstore lined with crooked shelves and ivy curling through the windowsill. She didn’t belong in the world he came from—not with that soft smile she wore as she reached for a worn-out book. She flipped through the pages gently and ran her fingers along the words as if they meant something sacred. Roman had frozen just outside the store. Watching her, maybe he forgot to breathe in those moments. He had never seen someone look so alive in silence. After a while, she stepped out of the store, book in hand, and turned down the street. Her hair bounced behind her, catching little flecks of sunlight. She didn’t no

He picked it up, eyes scanning the pages under the moonlight. The words hit him hard: “The detective slammed me against the bookshelf, his thick fingers plunging into my dripping cunt while his other hand choked my throat…” A soft voice came from behind him. “Still breaking the rules after all these years, Kane?” Kane spun around. Vera stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a thin black silk robe, she lit a cigarette with steady hands, the flame lighting up her piercing green eyes. “You…” Kane narrowed his eyes. Something about her felt familiar, but the memory stayed just out of reach.