Yamamoto Akane Novels & Stories

They all wore their Kimonos. "If you do not mind me asking, why are you not dressed in modern outfit?" I asked genuinely curious. "Anniversary of our ancestors," Akane answered proudly. "So how long have you been with Damien?" Azumi, the eldest of the three daughters and also the boldest. "Azumi!" Akane said in dismay. I smiled. "Not long but it feels like a while," I said. "And how many of his exes have you fought off?" Azumi asked with glee.

"Yamamoto Kusakara, he's Yamamoto Kusakara!" Lei Tianrui and the others jittered. They had done enough research to know more about their enemy. Yamamoto Kusakara was one of them. He was not on the top list of the powerhouses in Japan, but he had already reached the third level of Covert Power.

“Kitagawa Sakura. Nice to meet you.” “I’m Yamamura Akari! Nice to meet you too, Kitagawa-san!” the girl said enthusiastically with a wide grin. “Nii-san,” she added with a teasing smile, “is she a friend… or a friend?” “Mom’s going to be so happy when she sees her!” “Mom?” The question flashed quickly through Sakura’s mind. Whose mom…? Heri let out a small sigh, then turned to Sakura and explained. “Akari is the eldest daughter of my host family here in Tokyo.”

“What is your ETA?” “My, my, aren’t we an anxious little Alpha.” I chuckle. And in reality she is little. At 5’2” it’s almost hard to believe she’s an Alpha. Up until you see her fight and then there’s not question that the woman is all Alpha. She uses her small stature to her advantage – because she’s small, she is quick and agile in a way that male Alphas generally aren’t. But beyond that, she is also a smart and strategic fighter. I’ve seen her take down some of the strongest warriors out there because she used her brains just as much her strength. Thinking of what a badass she is is only making me again wish that she were my fated mate.

she said to her followers, who kept tailing her wherever she went. "Akane..." The mere sight of her was sufficient to ignite the dormant flames of hatred within me, remembering how they made me a servant for her and her twin brother, Akeno. "You're here..." I halted my friends when they were about to snarl at her. Akane put up a sweet facade as she stepped forward, eyeing me up and down. "Look at you... Even if this is a masquerade party, I can easily distinguish my filthy cousin right here." Her laughter resonated with a sinister undertone. "Well, you are more suited in a servant's attire than this... extravagant gown." Her lips turned downward as she scoffed.

The way her hair tumbles down her shoulders, bouncing with each step she takes. Carter's wife. My rival's granddaughter. Fuck me. I want her. I want to watch her mask of civility unravel. I want to see what Kazuo's prim and proper granddaughter looks like falling apart on my cock. Allera Akiyama is nothing like I imagined. Hearing about Kazuo Akiyama's cherished and beloved granddaughter, I imagined someone else. Someone better suited to the title "Princess of Horror". A high strung, dark haired beauty with haughty eyes, a kimono, and a god complex.

Selina said smiling. “Amira sent me to you” Selina said “Thank the gods” Anna replied “Let’s head back immediately before my absence is noticed” Selina said “My journey ends here, take him to her and please look after them, I have to go back to my family” Anna said “May the gods reward you” Selina said to Anna Anna handed Akeem over to Selina. She watched them walk away until she had no sight of them again, then she turned her back and left.

But if the Dark Child was the daughter of Estelel to Jilroid and she was her daughter to that means the Dark Child is her sister and Margarette was her aunt. “What do you want from me, Ánië?” She asked as memories of her past were brought back to her. “We only got one fragment of the Nromais.” “Don’t worry. I really don’t need them. Simple. I want the Hristoax that Estelel gave me.” “The Hristoax? But that’s mine!” “You stole it from me!” “Liar! You greedy woman!” She won’t hand the damn thing down. Ánië made three strides and was in front of her in a second; she curled her hands on her neck and choked her to death. “Give me the Hristoax.”

"I'm glad to see that you're all healed up." "Thank you," Rayne spoke in a tone that concealed her nervousness and I liked that. I did not want her to be intimidated by anyone. I wanted my lady to be strong. We sat down and a little while later, the door of the meeting room opened after we heard a slight knock. A lady in her early thirties walked inside. She had long dark brown hair, bronze skin, and hazel eyes. 'A Middle Eastern beauty,' I read Rayne's thoughts. I wanted to tell her that even if this woman was beautiful, her beauty was nothing compared to hers.

Traditional wooden beams arched overhead, and low wooden tables with cushioned zabuton seats invited patrons to linger. Aiko Tanaka moved gracefully between the tables in her elegant uniform: a soft pink kimono-style blouse that hugged her petite frame, a crisp white apron tied neatly at her waist, and a pleated skirt that swayed just above her knees. At 24, she was the picture of demure Japanese beauty. Porcelain skin, long black hair pinned up with delicate kanzashi ornaments, and large, doe-like eyes that rarely met a customer’s gaze for long. Yet beneath that polished politeness burned something deeper.