Novel & Cerita Victor Creed X Reader

Emily The morning sun streams in through my bedroom window, signalling the fateful day has arrived. Today I leave behind my old life for a new future as Luna of Red Creed Pack. More importantly, today marks the first step toward achieving my long-awaited revenge. By this time tomorrow, I'll be far from the grasp of Dorian and Lily. Too far for them to continue hounding my steps. A knock sounds at the door before my mother enters, her smile tinged with melancholy. "Good morning, my darling. Are you all ready for your departure?"

I looked at it and froze. No, I think I looked at it, died, and came back a statue. My heart that was beating rapidly before just stopped altogether. I couldn't breathe anymore. My lungs quit their job and stopped functioning. Then we made eye contact. No. Then I believe I blacked out. The last thing I remember seeing were those haunting gray-blue orbs ... ************** Thanks everyone for reading so far... Here is the end of book one on THE VICIOUS ALPHA.. Please, kindly leave an encouraging comment, review and highlights. Keep sending your votes and stars... I appreciate and love you all.

Even from a distance, he could see the way the veins decorating her neck grew engorged with blood, her fingers balling into fists as she struggled to rein her anger in. Beautiful. “But I'm not wrong, am I? Right now you're no different from an omega.” He adds, gesturing dismissively at her. “Do not refer to me as that. Don't ever.” She warns, her chest beginning to rise and fall at scattered intervals. Cedric chuckles, taking a small whiff of the air that has now grown heavy with the scent of her dominance. His mate is a wonder. He wanted more, he wanted to see more of what she could do, how far he could go before she really, truly snapped.

"Or because the scene revealed something they weren't ready to address. The novel had structure problems in Volume 7. The pacing was inconsistent and several plot threads were dropped without explanation." The woman picked up her tea again. She drank slowly, and Kael had the impression that she was using the action to buy time while she processed what he had said. "You're claiming," she said, "that you have knowledge of events that haven't happened because you read them in a story that described this world as fiction." "Yes." "And you believe I'm a character from that story." "I believe you're Seraphyne Voss, formerly known as the Crimson Empress, Void-tier Awakener, and the final antagonist

Kai Volkov was everything the rumours said and more; tall, built like a panzer tank, and no emotion evident in his blue eyes. The intimidation in his scent is enough to keep me submissive because, truth be told, he scared the Hell out of me. The other one, Viktor, not so much. He seems more like the bookish type, not a warrior, but I wouldn’t fuck with him either way. The Blood Crest pack didn’t have a terrible reputation for nothing.

"I told you I won't unless you..." "Don't test me, Kathrine. Your taste in men is commendable but you are the girl who can only afford a mafia boss existing in a stupid novel. I'm not what you think I am. I am a monster and I love blood and flesh. I don't realize when I lose my shit and crave it. I don't care whose blood it is. It could be you dying next and satisfying my craving with your blood. You never know." He huffed, "I don't rely on myself. You'd be stupid to think I am anywhere near reliable."

And I, Alpha of the strongest pack in the region, ruler of Luna Noir, feared by vampires and respected by fae and witches, stood frozen like an idiot watching a human boy bring my entire world to its knees. Then the music stopped. Edric blinked, breathless, dazed as if waking from a dream he didn’t know he had. Silence devoured the room. I rose slowly, forcing each step to remain controlled even though my wolf wanted to sprint. He looked up at me, eyes wide, hopeful, terrified. The scent of his nerves hit me so hard my vision swayed. When I reached him, his breath hitched. I lifted a hand and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, an action so intimate that I should have stopped myself.