Walking Dead Rosita Novels & Stories

Moving to check Bea's pulse, a gun suddenly materialized in front of her, held by Ryana with a cold stare. "Come," Ryana commanded, pushing Rosette towards the emergency exit at the back of the clinic. Initially compliant, Rosette swiftly turned the tables, disarming Ryana and calling for help. Despite Ryana's resistance, Rosette maintained a firm grip on her. As the emergency door was flung open, chaos ensued. A figure moved swiftly, striking Rosette across the face with lightning speed. Dazed, she stumbled as a large clawed hand gripped her neck, hurling her against the nearby wall, causing a sharp pain as her head collided with the plaster, leaving her disoriented.

“What? No. Please. No. Never do that. Besides, you’re taking this too seriously. It’s just a crush. It’ll wear off. I know it will.” ——— [Rosita] After leaving Vivienne’s place, I drive straight home. I park the car in the garage and enter the house through the backdoor. I pause when I hear the TV on in the living room. Dropping my bag and keys on the table, I quietly make my way toward the noise. When I enter the room, no one’s there. Maybe I left it on in a rush yesterday? Just as the thought crosses my mind, a pair of arms wrap around my waist, pulling me against something solid. I almost scream.

He gave me a contagious toothy grin, one I immediately returned. His eyes then drifted to him, clapping him on the back. "This is Dr. Alexander Wood, my good friend. Came here for some books." I nodded. "Wood, this is Rosette. She's here now, so whenever you don't find me here, she's in charge." He nodded too, still looking at me. "Hello Rose, nice to see you again." He smiled down at me, and extended a hand for me to shake, the hand that wasn't holding on to the books.

Zeus and I are both unhinged, it’s the closest we’ve ever been to being feral. “ALPHA! STOP! He’s dead and Rose needs you.” I hear Thomas yelling. I look down and the male is indeed dead, his body in multiple pieces. We rush to Rose on the other side of the room. Thomas is kneeling beside her already and taking her pulse. Her wrists are bound in front of her, and she is only dressed in her panties. Her entire front, from the mouth down, is covered in that alpha’s blood.

Rose said flatly. "He is not?" Jake repeated. "Douglas is not dead," Rose said. "There are no death records of him." "And the Tidewalker only steals the faces of dead people," Aren said. "Not just dead people," Sarah said quietly. "Yeah," Jake cut in. "People who died in the river." "But either way," Rose said, "if Señora Mendes warned you of him, he is evil." "Jake, did you do the salt test?" Bonnie asked.

"You will always be that. No one is taking you from me. I will kill every last one of them before they even look at you again." Rodah stirred. Her eyelashes fluttered open, her green eyes adjusting to the light until they locked onto me. She sat up quickly, pulling the silk robe tightly over her chest as she realized I was standing over her, still covered in the faint smell of rain and gunpowder. "You're back," she said, her voice thick with sleep. Then, her eyes narrowed as she looked past me toward the door. "Martinez, why are there six armed men standing right outside my door? I tried to go to the kitchen an hour ago and they blocked the hallway. They wouldn't let me leave."

Each breath carries the flavor of gun oil and the metallic hint of blood I cleaned from Isla’s nose today when she sneezed, the color a red-gold shade, like a molten sunset. She found it amusing. My five-year-old giggled as her nose dripped the hues of the city. I did not. I’m wiping down the rifle for the fourth round my hands working automatically when the basement door squeaks and Rosa descends the stairs. She’s dressed in tactical pants and one of my worn Marine hoodies with the sleeves cut off to reveal scars that never fully healed. Her machetes are fastened across her like wings. “You resemble death’s bookkeeper " she remarks, her voice hoarse, from sleeplessness.

“Just because she woke up from the coma doesn’t mean she’s better. She needs to rest more.” I nodded, and once he left, I quietly went to Arabella, where she lay, frail and small against the pillows. I was about to speak when suddenly a knock on the door broke the silence. I let the warrior in—the same one I’d sent to get Rosentine, but he was alone. “Alpha, Lady Rosentine passed out in the garden,” he reported, voice tense. “What?” I turned to him and took a step, ready to leave, but Arabella grabbed my hand, stopping me before I could move.

The earlier redness on her face was not there anymore, after making sure she looked fine, I walked into the room. "So, do you have something to tell me?" I asked, slowly leaning in into my seat. She didn't answer immediately, instead crossed the room and sat by the edge the bed. "I wanted to ask about your injuries after the fight." She began softly. "I'm a werewolf Rosita, it healed already." I said, then I pulled up sleeves to show her my arms. "See? Completely healed." I said before dragging the sleeves down. "Alright. I..I know this might sound absurd, especially since someone's life was just taken..." she stuttered.

"Once the authorities get these names, I want a full guard around the house. The Cruz family is like a wounded animal now. They will be most dangerous right before they die." "I understand," Sean replied. He paused for a second. "And the girl? She is in your room. She hasn't eaten since we got back." "I’ll take care of her," I said. I walked down the long hallway toward my bedroom. My heart felt strange—lighter, but also nervous. I was a man who handled millions of dollars and thousands of soldiers, but talking to Rosalina made my palms sweat. I opened the door softly. The room was dim. Rosalina was sitting by the window, wrapped in a thick wool blanket. She looked so small against the backd