Violet Sorrengail Hair Mga Nobela at Kwento

“What about violet?” Nate blinks, caught off guard. “What about it?” Unwinding the strand of hair, she resumes her finger-drumming rhythm. “I’m thinking of coloring my hair violet. Think it’ll suit me?” Nate arches a brow, skepticism radiating off him. “Girl, it’s going to take a few sessions of bleach to strip all that darkness out of your hair. And that’s if your hair doesn’t fall out from the trauma.” “Celeste knows how to do hair recovery like a pro,” Ariah counters with a casual shrug, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “It’s not a problem. Or… what about dark blue? Like a rich indigo?”

Between them sat a woman. She was thin and lean, yet every inch of her body radiated a powerful aura. Her hair was purple like a twilight sky and it fell over her shoulders in loose waves, the streaks of silver threaded through it making her look like she was carved from dusk itself. Her eyes were the same eerie shade of violet and the way they were watching me without blinking made my skin crawl.

Alaric said from the side of the pool. Violet held her breath and went back into the pool. Alaric was surprised. What sort of lunatic was this girl with purple hair? He looked into the pool and shook his head when he saw that she was looking for her wig. Alaric shook his head and sighed. “Keitan's killer association has really lost their touch, how can they send such a weakling here.” Violet seemed to have no intent of going back up, she kept going down and it was beginning to annoy Alaric. He lifted his finger and Violet was pulled out of the water and onto the spot beside Alaric's feet.

Golden beams spilled through the silken clouds, wrapping Aeloria in their divine glow. Aeloria was renowned for three things— its vibrant sky, the magic in its air, and her. Her pale skin shimmered like the sun-kissed snow peak as she glided through the meadow, enchanting even the sky with her beauty. A white gown flowed around her like morning mist, and her long braid swayed like a silken ribbon behind her. The soft hum that escaped her lips drew butterflies and bewitched flowers. Oblivious to her charm, the woman with red hair and violet eyes continued to pluck flowers.

Same violet hair. I could recognize her at a glance.

I flip it over and read the back again. Love you so much Mal! Violet xoxo Violet. With eyes a beautiful sky blue, teeth so perfectly straight, and hair a bright yet natural shade of golden blonde. She is beautiful. And she has her arm all around my mate. Am I feeling jealous of a girl in a photograph? Do I expect Malachi to have never had any relationships in the past before he met me?

Goddess… My mind blanked when Violet walked into the room after getting ready for dinner. She was wearing a beautiful spaghetti strap high low dress that stopped right above her knees. It was white with a black lace overlay. There was a black corset band around her waist, which accentuated her bust. Heels made her legs look like they went on for miles. Her hair was in a half up half down style. There was a bump that provided even more volume to her naturally voluminous hair. Then minimal makeup rounded it all off and gave her a fresh look.

Silver-white hair spilled out, falling loose around her face. I couldn't help but notice it. My brow rose. In the footage, she hadn’t looked like this, though the banquet night, she did. “The hair.” I couldn't help but mutter. “Velmora sorceresses are born with silver hair. Hybrids excluded. Unfortunately, I'm a different kind of hybrid, and I hate that I have it. I prefer dye.” She said, reading my look. “So a werewolf and a sorceress.” I tilted my head.

I grab my pillow and sob quietly into it, pretending it was my brother. A knock makes me gasp for air but I don't move from my spot, hugging the pillow tighter as my tears refuse to stop. If Hestia was back with the cookies, I'd gladly take some. Another knock on the door makes me look up at it at the same time it opens, Anthony's face peeking around it. His expression turns alarmed as he processes my fetal position and tear soaked pillow. "Violet," He says, a sense of urgency in his voice as he closes the door behind him, "What's going on? Why are you crying?"