Vol 5 Novels & Stories

They set out in their real forms, as bats and flew away. Violet had a great time studying the house, she knew she had a long way to go but it didn’t matter, as long as she was getting herself busy. She found out that each member of this house has a particular lane for himself and the lane had a design of their choice. It was unimaginably real, A house as big as this one, with over 15 chambers that she has noted. How many more was she yet to see? Violet kept walking till she met Kimora. She still had no idea of who Kimora was. But she was told yesterday night, how could she have forgotten?

The smile on his face faltered a little as he opened a black umbrella and walked over. "What are you doing here? Who's handling things in the pack downtown district?" he asked with a frown. "I've got everything arranged," I said, forcing a smile as I handed him the gift I'd been holding onto this whole time. "I came to say… happy fifth mating anniversary, Alaric." He looked startled, clearly having forgotten it was our fifth anniversary, let alone expecting me to travel all this way to bring him a gift. Surprise flashed in his eyes, and just as he reached for the gift, Serene Vargar's coquettish voice rang out. "Alaric, the elders are here. The council's starting."

“We were together for five years! You loved me!” “Five years?” Evangeline raised an eyebrow, looking at me like I was insane. “Mr. Corvo, I think you’re mistaken.” “I’m not mistaken!” I begged, all my pride and dignity gone. “Evangeline, look at me! Do you really remember nothing?” “All I remember,” she said, her voice terrifyingly calm, “is that you are the mafia Don of Chicago. Nothing more.” I felt my heart being ripped out of my chest, bleeding and raw.

"We partied too hard last night and forgot to use protection—don't forget to buy morning-after pills for your wife." Looking at the woman's smooth bare back and the red mole on her neck in the photo, I felt absolutely nothing. Again. Five years of marriage, and this wasn't the first time. Kathy liked to test me this way. She called it her "little experiment." The first time, she "accidentally" left a receipt for condoms on the nightstand. I got angry and confronted her, but she just smiled with contempt. "Why are you so petty? My girlfriends and I bought that on purpose just to see how you'd react." The second time was on our wedding anniversary. A guy showed up at our door with a bouq

she says, with the placid certainty of someone who has heard this exact sentence for years, "for twenty-five years. And here we both still are." I cannot argue with this. It is a clapback of the highest order and I respect it even while resenting the timing. She has never once in her life failed a vibe check, and I find it both admirable and occasionally inconvenient. The green juice is, as it always is, a miracle. Mrs V makes it from a combination of ingredients she has never disclosed to anyone, and it is genuinely bussin on a level no other substance can compete with. It addresses hangovers, cramps, nausea, headaches, and at least two categories of existential difficulty with equal reliab

There were only a few passersby, as it was already past midnight. Suddenly, a screeching noise of a car was heard, disturbing the peaceful atmosphere of the night. Not long after, a black sedan came into view, approaching at an extremely fast speed. The passersby turned towards the source of that awful noise. And then, as if in slow motion, the car arrived and slammed violently into the bollards, losing all control. The impact echoed like an explosion and the vehicle flipped once, twice, before crashing onto its roof with a brutal, final thud.

The fifth bond was nothing like the others. Veyra had expected it to be a surge of passion, a crackling storm like the others, like the ones with Kael, Zevi, Rune, and Lioren. She had imagined it would come like lightning—sudden and violent, an electric connection that would bind her to her fifth mate with the force of a storm. But this bond, the fifth, was different. It didn't arrive as a whisper. It didn't ease into her senses with the quiet, comforting pulse of connection.

"How is that even possible? You must hit your head or something to return to the past." "I guess Ares kissing her had triggered her childhood before the abduction," I look over my shoulder to see Jo sleeping peacefully. Dr. Warner gave me another sedative just in case Jo had her episodes again. But this seems different. "I will have to contact Warner tomorrow, and probably he will give us some answers as to why Jo is five again."

Mathias warns me to not open it. “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Tawny flips the simple catch on the box and opens the lid. Inside is a single leather-bound book, about five or six inches thick, with pressed paper. The book was indeed old. I lift the book out, place it next to the box it came in and open the cover. “Well, that sucks,” Clicking her tongue and throwing her hands on her hips, Tawny says, “Are all the pages written in code?”

She covered her nose and walked back into the house, pointing the camera inside. "Look. Miles has turned the house into a landfill. "I want to bring him back too, but look at how filthy he is. How am I supposed to bring him home like this?" I felt terribly wronged and muttered stiffly, "I'm not filthy." What can a five-year-old do? I've been dead for five years, and you still don't know. "Let me see Brother's house! I want to see!" A bright, lively voice came from the video. An eight-year-old boy in a little suit appeared on the screen, looking like a small prince.