Wild The Novels & Stories

she asks. ​"Five years." Vareen's eyes narrowed at him. How did he manage to hide from me for five years that he was married? "Please meet, Xamira Rivello-Lucio." ​Vareen smiled at the woman, and she offered her a handshake. She accepted it and hugged Vareen. Xamira is indeed a stunning woman, a famous singer just like Raze. They met once in the weirdest moment they ever encountered in their life. That's why she's familiar; they sometimes see her in magazines and on the news. She's way more beautiful up close. It is good to know that Raze already found his new life; it's good for him.

Startled, I get up from the bed and move toward the window, pulling back the curtain with trembling hands. Outside, under the moonlit sky, a large black wolf stands in the clearing. Its silhouette is striking against the silver light, casting a long shadow on the grass. The wolf’s eyes glow a deep, intense blue as it lifts its head and howls again, a sound that seems to resonate with the very essence of the night.

in response to a request for silence. Phantom came to a standstill. He mimicked the actions that Savannah was taking. He felt it too. He does not have any previous experience in forests, much less in one such as this one. Hiking is another activity he abhors. Extreme sports were his thing, but not this particular one. At the same moment, they were aware of the sound of rustling. "Did you hear it?" The woman spoke in a hushed tone. "Yes" was the response he gave.

Chapter 23: WILD HUNT Deep Woods, Fallon Creek, Michigan... The scent of blood had driven the aggressive beast wild as it chased through the wilderness in search of prey that had been wounded in the wake of a run-in with the razor-sharp claws that dug into the shallow earth beneath its feet as it moved swiftly and at ease amid the trees beneath the bright white glow of moonlight. The beast was well aware of the territories it roamed having claimed them some time ago and happily hunted until it had its fill and the sun arose. The wayward breeze had even provided a bit of a challenge as the snarling brute leaped across fallen logs and slick rocks to reach the location of the blood trail's end

There’s no doubt about it. And as always happens the moment I allow myself to think of the Wildlands, another face flashes through my mind. Vuko. I try to push it away. I’ve almost managed to do it after all these years. But even if stop thinking about his face (don’t picture his nutmeg skin, or his soft full lips, or his wild curls or his broad chest, his eyes like the winter sky—don’t!), it’s his smell or his touch or ---goddess help me—his taste …