Xander Shakadera Novels & Stories

“Xander, how did the last dose go? You seemed to have done what you said you wouldn’t do.” Xander only stared at the eldest among the brothers before looking away. “I have no choice. I lost sensation from the chest down. They just gave me a remote-controlled wheelchair to help myself. The doses worked for a moment hours after injection. I really want to believe the cure will fix me now.” He settled next to the long couch, closer to Brian. “Dad, I think his name is Brian Hopper, a newbie detective. He’s friends with Janelle, Delta, and Wolfram. Forgive him a bit.”

A man like Xander usually fights until the bitter end and he doesn’t like not winning. Dante stops rubbing my back and pulls out his mobile from his pants. It looks like he is scrolling. “Hi Xander, Dante here. I’m doing a search on a Drake Edwards right now and I’ll forward the name on to my team.” His voice is stern and in command.

Only a valuable person deserves people around him. Andrea cackled, not feeling any ounce of guilt. “I bet you get the message.” “You really should have your head checked. You are losing it.” Asher grumbled, caressing the computer like it belonged to a part of his body. She tilted her head to the side when her eyes caught the image on the screen. She stood up to check it correctly, and a loud gasp escaped her lips. “Xander is the owner of X&J?!” Asher raised his brow. “You know him?”

Alpha Cyrus said and that angered the young boy. He attacked him once more but Cyrus just used his arm as a shield and he could not even move an inch closer. He was again thrown across the room leaving cracks on the walls and when he was about to get up, Alpha Cyrus stepped on his chest, with so much pressure that he is now barely breathing.

"What? What are you saying,beta? Xander is Indian, isn't that right, Maria?" My mom said smiling at Maria. What? How come...? "Yes, yes absolutely. Xander is Indian." Maria said grinning widely. Is she telling a lie? Wait...no Maria wouldn't lie about such a thing. I should listen to her first. "But how?" I asked confused. "Oh. Actually Xander's mother , Zara was Indian. Her father was Indian too." She explained. This whole time Xander was silent. Only his grip tightened on my waist, but not to the point of hurting.

Desmond looked at me and I smiled, nodding again. Once another contraction hit, I wrinkled my nose and let out a yell as I pushed as hard as I could. It was a sweet relief when I felt our first pup be born. He was quiet but Desmond smiled. Quickly rubbing him down in one of the wet cloths, he wrapped up our first born in his shirt after cutting his cord. Reaching out, I took our little first born from him and held him to my chest. His hair was exactly like Desmond’s. This was Xander. There was no doubt.

she whispered. “I love you guys too,” I sniffled. Baba walked me to the living room where the mandap (the wedding canopy) was set up. But my attention was arrested by a sight that made my heart skip a beat. Xander was dressed in a sherwani (an outer long coat traditional to Indian weddings). He looked breathtakingly handsome in it, and the world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only him in my vision. I blushed when I saw him raking me from top to bottom. His eyes were brimming with promise as he indicated what he would do to me tonight.

Controlling my will to cut necks became my challenge at first and now my most achievement. Xander went up the huge stage, clad with his normally high confidence. Maybe because he is appearing a dauntless man that's ready to manipulate everything on his palms without him even trying. I have always wanted to make him feel small sometimes, I want him to experience hopelessness, mockery, slavery, and even poverty. Why is it only me who happened to deal with all of those all at once?

“Yeah, I heard. Ria saw him yesterday; he stopped by while I was sleeping.” I stand up clapping my hands. “Right, how are we doing this? Am I carrying you, are you hobbling out of here, or do you want to ride in a wheelchair?” “I’ll fucking walk out of here.” Xander sits up more and swings his one leg over the bed, the other cut off just above where his knee should be. “Get me a pair of crutches, my love,” His tone immediately softens when he addresses Ria. Who just shakes her head and goes in search of a pair of crutches.

Sharriah said, watching as he frowned immediately at her words, her words might have hurt his ego, "I'm not a little lad, I'm fifteen, eight months, three weeks and six days old, I'm entering sixteen, and in three month, I turn to a full fledged hunter, but I kill rabbits and squirrels and other animals. So! Am not a little lad." The little lad said again, and she was surprised at how fast he spoke, "What's your name then?" Sharriah asked, wondering the kind of names dragons bear, maybe, something ancient, "My name is Xander, who are you, and what do you come here looking for."