Violet Parr Novelas e Histórias

Although Mila had told her that the pack members rarely entered the garden, she still had to take precautions in case people like Jenedeith sauntered in. The thought of that rude woman made her blood boil. She recalled the way she treated Mila, called her slave and insulted her. Then she was Xavier's mistress meaning she'd be here regularly. Violet sat beside a beautiful red rose bush, and bringing her knees up, she leaned close and enjoyed the sweet scent of the flowers. She slowly traced their little buds and stem, then hissed quietly when something pricked her finger and she just starting to suck on it when a small growl froze her.

As always, everything to the boy with the burgundy hair… seemed too obvious. "Very little...I just remember decorating some flowers and colors" she felt frustrated to admit. "Hum..., well, violet has that meaning, it represents shyness and hesitation too, and depending on where you look, it also represents loyalty." "Nice…" those irises that resembled cut amethysts flickered, as for some reason...it looked interesting to know, to memorize. "Yes, and again, it suits you," he repeated, placing his hand in front of his face, only to stare at her.

But then-he said two words that made me pause. Plan B. Plan B? He told me about Xavier. How he was Violet's stepbrother. How he hated her. How he wanted her to burn. That got my attention. Violet had a stepbrother that I wasn't even fucking aware of. I mean just this week she was announced as Valenwood herlir mad missing daughter. At this point, I doubt there could be any shocking news. The Viper handed me the address. The prison they locked him in. I was excited. Fucking thrilled.

"Violet Carter is the strongest person I know. She survived betrayal, rebuilt her career, and faced her abuser in court. My feelings for her don't diminish that. They're just proof that she's capable of being loved the way she deserves." Bennett's cross was predictable. Tried to paint Liam as opportunistic. As taking advantage of a vulnerable woman. But Liam shut it down calmly. "I invested in Violet's company because it's a sound business decision. I fell in love with her because she's extraordinary. Those are two separate facts that happen to coexist." When he stepped down, he paused at our table. Squeezed my shoulder. Kept walking. Marcus rested his case. All evidence presented. All witne

I saw as I start driving to the pack house. As I pull up and park in front of the pack house, my dick gets hard all over again, as I step out of my car and see Scarlett waiting outside the packhouse, leaning against the railing of the porch. Her long, chocolate brown hair is in loose waves down her back and I can see her bright green eyes from here. Her curves look perfect in a red dress that wraps around her body, showcasing her cleavage as it ties at the waist. Her legs, perfectly toned from all her time training and sparring, look they need to be wrapped around me as she stands in a pair of black stiletto heels. Before she has a chance to move even an inch, I’m out of my car and on the po

Richard shouted, still pinned by Violet’s magic. He wasn’t shifting—but his body hovered in the air, stiff and motionless. The last surviving vampire—the one with the red eyes—floated beside him, equally paralyzed. Violet’s eyes remained closed, but her hands wove through the air, tracing unseen patterns—like she was crafting something with invisible thread. Then it hit me. She was controlling them. She was the puppet master and they were her puppets. And before I could react, hands clamped down on my arms.

As he scanned through the files, one photograph caught his attention. It was a picture of a woman wearing a black tank top and fitted jeans. Franklin felt like he's being dragged back to the past. Back to the time when Violet was hailed as the Queen of the town. Franklin didn't have to ask his brother, his guts is already telling him that the woman in the picture is Patricia Harringron. ----------------

"That explains why your aura is different, there's something... layered about you." "Can you help me or not?" I questioned again, this time I'm becoming intense. "That depends." Violet pulled out a small vial from her bag, inside of it was a shimmering liquid that seemed to change colors. "Do you know what Lila is planning at the ceremony?"

It was on her. Violet sat on a flat stretch of stone near the edge of camp while Anna cleaned the shallow rake along her shoulder. The sleeve of her shirt had been cut away, exposing angry red lines that crossed older scars mapped across her skin. She didn’t flinch when antiseptic was poured over the wound. She simply watched the tree line like she expected something else to emerge from it. She was the picture of unshakable control. As if driving a blade through Brogan’s skull had been no more taxing than morning drills for her.

Tonight, I had to remind myself—and the rest of the world—what we were. Nothing. The first wave of guests approached, exchanging pleasantries. I answered with the same calculated charm I always did. Reigna remained by my side, poised but tense, her fingers clutching the strap of her purse. “Carlisle Amoroso,” a familiar voice cooed, and I already knew who it was before I turned. Violet. She was draped in a deep burgundy gown, her blonde hair falling in soft waves, and the way she carried herself was as effortless as ever. Her gaze flickered briefly to Reigna before she gave me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.