Willow Radke Age Novels & Stories

He rested his chin on my shoulder. “You’re dealing with her this time.” Harper took another deep breath. She dreaded dealing with Willow, their daughter, about their trip tomorrow. Willow is 19 years old, and rebellious as they come. She is a lot like her mother, you can’t tell her to do something and expect her to comply 100%. “She already says she’s not going.” Harper couldn’t understand why Willow didn’t want to visit their dragon friends in the Mythical Lands. The prince’s party is for young adults only, so Gabriel and Harper won’t be attending. They were hoping Willow would attend, though they both knew it was going to be hard to get her there. She hasn’t seen any of them since she was

She opens the door with a lopsided grin and says “I just need a few more moments, I am almost ready. Come on in” I thank her and wait in the entryway as she retrieved whatever she feels is still necessary. The red crop top and dark jeans being plenty to send my mind in a direction far from war and pack responsibilities. The little strip of skin between the two looking oh so kissable. Shaking my head to clear my dirty thoughts, I smile as she walks back out to me. “You look beautiful, Willow. I don’t know enough to pick a place for dinner so I figured I would let you. Just name the place and it’s done.”

Youth was a wonderful thing. And yet, Willow suddenly remembered that she was only 26. She lowered her head and slowly twisted the six-carat wedding ring on her finger before speaking calmly, "Ms. Burke, if I were you, I'd stick to being Julian's well-kept canary. Stay quiet, keep him entertained, and ask for money. "I certainly wouldn't go around broadcasting what happens in the bedroom. And honestly, why are you even here? This isn't the kind of place for you."

I'm still fixated on his bloodied forearms, and he's still studying my face intently as he inserts the earpiece into his ear. "It's all yours," Willow says, teetering on her feet as she stands, her kneecaps bandaged. She raises her chin to meet Kaleb's gaze. "Have you found Licorice?" Kaleb's hand hovers near her hip in case she stumbles. "We're working on it." I can hear the hint of his South Philly accent. "Are you okay?" "Yes." Willow blinks as if trying to fight off her drunkenness. She hiccups and adds, "Thank you, Mr. O'Brien." He's twenty-seven, the same age as Lennox. Not middle-aged.

The trees here were twisted, their branches forming a canopy so thick that sunlight barely penetrated. A sound stopped me—distant but unmistakable. A howl, but not like any I'd heard before. It carried notes that shouldn't exist in a wolf's voice, harmonics that made every hair stand on end. It was filled with rage and power and something otherworldly. Racheal. I knew it with absolute certainty even though I'd never heard her howl like that. "What have you done to her, Kelly?" I whispered, breaking into a run.

She hasn't been around since---'' Willow was about to mutter something venomous but Ryker interrupted. ''She is fine, just staying at her mother's for a while.'' Obviously, he lied, and we all knew he did. His hair was messily set on his forehead, but his eyes looked tired, unlike his usual self. ''Now shall we start!'' he glanced at every single one of us, but breathed through his nose aggressively when he looked at me. Dude! I didn't tell anyone, stop puffing air out of your nostrils like a bull. ''Before we go any further, lemme ask you girls, how old are you. Starting from you Nichole.'' He addressed it out of nowhere. Why did he wanna know our ages and why now? Was the demon inside him

“…yeah.” Willow stares at Aretha again. Long. Uncomfortable. Then she sighs dramatically. “Well that’s disappointing.” Aretha steps forward again. “Say one more word.” Willow lifts her chin. “You’re too old for him.” Aretha lunges. Alexander grabs her instantly. “Whoa!” “Let me go!” “No!” I step between them calmly. And look directly at Willow. “You’re not exactly young yourself.” She frowns slightly. “…I’m two hundred years old, I'm older than you all.”

Gia hid her hands behind her back to conceal their trembling; she wasn't prepared for such a confrontation. "Tree," murmured Rose softly behind Gia. Although she had never seen Willow, she instantly recognized her from Gia's descriptions. "You..." Willow seemed on the verge of yelling at Gia but took a deep breath, composing herself. "So, you're not Raven's wife." "I'm not." Somehow, Willow seemed to have overheard Raven's nonsense and believed it. Willow fell silent for a moment, continuing to study Gia. "Who are you?" "Gia Harken," she replied simply, unsure of what kind of answer Willow was looking for.

Nicholas Rowe, I am writing to you directly since every other medium of communication with you regarding the Rowe Scholarship has been blocked and exhausted. I, Willow Taylor, am currently a student at your alma mater, Atkins High School. Three weeks ago, I received a letter from your employee Julia Reyes which stated that I had been selected as the recipient of your prestigious scholarship. As it is awarded to a final year student with outstanding scholastic aptitude from Atkins High School, I received the news with great excitement.

He had just told them how old Willow was. “Oh, honey, she wasn’t talking about you.” Rayne winked at Willow, then at her husband. It was nice to catch them off guard like that. Sage picked up water, her brother a soda. It was when he picked up another soda that Rayne noticed Xylia sitting next to him on the floor. The group laughed about the fact that the two really thought they knew how old Willow was. If anyone knew, it was Rayne. She was older than dirt, from what Nix knew.