Victorious Pilot Mga Nobela at Kwento

Those who didn't gamble on the victor couldn't help but sulk but they were also amazed by the powerful victory of the victor. Those who gambled upon the victor couldn't stop jumping in their places because they were too happy just like the two boys next to Agnes. The victor was Evandros Linya and his victory was truly remarkable. The way he combated with that menacing resilience and that menacing look in his gaze. All of this...along with his whole existence had girls blushing. They couldn't help but dream and desire to have him. Some wished to have him as their soulmate but who knew he was jotted down in no one's faith?

Evans looked at Victor, silently asking if he would mind ceasing to be the exclusivity of the day. - "Are you kidding? It's going to be the best thing of my day" Victor smiled at his idol, who, a few years before, was the star of the checkered flags. - "You heard the man. Now you can get a jumpsuit in the locker room. Let's give the businessman a vacation and welcome the pilot"

Cabin depressurization alarm wailed. Masks again. The pilot dove, steep, stomach-lurching, toward cloud cover below. The attacker followed. Damian fired again, another burst. This time, hit. Smoke trailed from the port engine. The attacker rolled, unsteady, then climbed, trying to break off. The pilot leveled us. “Engine hit confirmed. They’re breaking. We’re clear.” Damian lowered the rifle. Looked at me. “You okay?” I nodded, shaking. He pulled me against him, hard, one-armed hug, pistol still in his other hand.

But ultimately, I stood victorious, having killed all who dared to oppose me. I mind-linked Elijah, making sure that Thor was dead and remained so this time. It was getting late, but if I had to, I would drag this fight out until the last of the rebels had been slaughtered. But sure enough, once the zombie-wolves were taken out, the battle was an easy win. So Victor was victorious too... Not that I ever doubted that he would, but the fucking asshole could have mind-linked me about it! Growling low, I quickly mind-linked my men at White Moon Flower, asking about their status. And sure enough, my mate’s pack had been attacked---

*** DOMINIC'S POV The jet touchdown Italy just some minutes after midnight. Victor and his heavily armed men were already waiting for me on the tarmac. I stepped out of the jet and adjusted my jacket, feeling a bit tired from the long flight. I had spent the whole flight already strategizing and making myself mentally ready for the fight that was to come. “Welcome brother,” Victor said, patting me on the back. “Victor, let's skip the pleasantries. Tell me everything I need to know.” I said. I didn't want to waste a single second.

This time he pushes in—slow, careful—beside me. Double again. She sobs. Claws at my shoulders. We move together—slow, synchronized, deep. No rush. No violence. Just us. Three bodies. One rhythm. One future. When we come—together, shuddering, breathless—it feels like surrender. And promise. The pilot’s voice crackles again. “Runway clear. Ready when you are.” Victor reaches over. Hits the button. “Wheels up.” The engines roar. The jet rolls. We lift off. Into the night. Into whatever comes next. Together.

And as Victor staggered backward, his eyes wide with shock as he looked at the dagger in his body and Derrick knew that victory was within reach. "It's over, Victor," he declared, his voice ringing out with authority despite the pain of the injuries he had. "You've lost." “No,” Victor gasped as he fell to his knee, the poison spreading faster than he could imagine. And as Derrick stood victorious over his fallen enemy, the rest of the men cheered, ready to celebrate their Alpha's victory. As Derrick and his comrades began their journey back home a sudden snarl echoed through, sending a chill down their spines.

The enemy helicopter diverged violently; its gunman momentarily unsettled. “Good enough,” Dmitri said, pulling her back into the cabin. Victor took the rifle from her shaking hands. “Not bad,” he muttered. Olivia stared at him. “Don’t ever make me do that again.” He leaned in closer; his breath warm against her ear. “Don’t lure me to test your limits further.” She shivered from the cold or his closeness, she couldn’t tell. The pilot’s voice comes through the headset. “They’re retreating!”

It was over. In less than two minutes Victor had wiped out an elite hit squad and three aircraft. He turned to me. The blackness in his eyes began to recede. The gold returned slowly. It leaked back in like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. He walked over to me. He checked me for injuries with his eyes. "Are you hurt?" he asked. "No," I whispered. "I am fine." He looked down at Lyra. She was wide awake. She was not crying. She was looking at the destruction with wide curious eyes. She clapped her hands at the burning wreckage.

"My mom would never marry a loser, miss lilly said so." Xavier crouched in front of him, smirking. "You know know about your mom kid." Miguel didn't answer. He just glared --- Victor moved like a predator through the burning wreckage of the battlefield. The survivors of his men followed behind him, sweeping through the compound, taking down anyone who stood in their way. Blood trickled from a cut on his cheek, but he barely felt it. All he could think about was Miguel. "Hold on, son," he whispered under his breath. "I'm coming."