Yassen Gregorovich Alex Rider Novels & Stories

I raised my brows and was about to ask why he looked so annoyed but was cut off by the sound of a 'whoosh' from behind me. "Did anyone say my name?" A deep voice whispered in my ear. I jumped towards Alexander in shock but he just shook his head at my lack of clothing and backed away like I was some sort of disease. "Get out of here, Azza. Are you insane?" Alexander glared at the stranger behind me. I turned to look at him and maybe it's all the tequila that I drank but I was not disappointed with that I saw at all. In front of me stood a guy with back hair and I swear I've never seen the color black look this dark before. His eyes were the deepest shade of green and they were staring right

He definitely had enough life to walk and it was even easier for me because he could not even see me because of not enough light around. –--- ~ FLASHBACK ~ –---- He staggered towards his car and I cut him off as Thunder on the empty highway on his way home. Now even if someone saw me, it would be very difficult for them to know that I am Nicholas, a well-known professor at Silver Valley High. And now it was going to be even more fun to torture him. Seeing me — Thunder — he started backing his car out of fear, but when I climbed on his car and started hitting his roof, he tried to run away like an uncontrollable rat out of fear.

A cup of hot Earl Gray tea with the aroma of bergamot steamed slowly in front of him. Alexander Sterling, with a black shirt left half unbuttoned showing off an ancient rune tattoo on his broad chest, sat right next to Chloe. The deadly man barely touched his breakfast. His attention seemed to be permanently locked on the beautiful sculpture of the Queen's face, enjoying his own masterpiece with absolute devotion. The comfortable silence was broken when the crystal tablet in front of Chloe flashed red. An incoming video call with an SSS level security code only one person in the world has such access. Oswald Vanguard. The Grandfather. The feared ancestor of thousands of shadow organizations.

Or worse — leave me with those men with empty eyes, who didn’t seem to have the slightest hesitation in using violence. “I don’t know exactly where he is,” I began, my voice trembling. “But I know someone who might be able to find out. Someone who has access to his communication system. Not directly, but… through transactions. Through payments. Tristan is careful, but he’s not invisible. Everything he spends leaves a trail.” “Who?” “A man. His name is Gregor. He works with cryptocurrencies and financial tracking. He’s discreet. Expensive. But efficient.” I lied about the last part. Gregor was efficient, yes, but not reliable. He worked for whoever paid more. And Cassius paid a lot.

He was never fit to run a pack. I arrived at the tombs. At first they appeared uninhabited, but once you understood the layouts of the maze like crypts, you realize that you could weave through them easily. A fire lit torch burned brightly at the entrance, and I took it making my way through the tomb. "Nikolai Rydor," an attendant's voice bounced off the walls of the tomb. "We've been expecting you." I nodded, going after her. And soon we came up upon the elders gathering.

Greg swallowed with difficulty as he wiped off the cold sweats that formed on his forehead. “If it’s Prince York, although the situation would be difficult, I will still do my job. But this man’s status really isn’t someone we can offend.” Yannick frowned. “Can’t you just tell me who is that straightforwardly?” Greg answered with a trembling voice, “The living legend, Sword Army’s chief instructor.” Smack! On the other side, the sound of the phone being dropped to the ground could be heard. After a long moment, only Yannick’s shivering voice was heard, “You’re saying, the chief instructor of the Sword Army? The chief instructor? Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

"Not a second later." Yuri looked at us both for a long, quiet moment, his weathered face etched with deep respect. "Ten years ago, if someone told me I’d be helping Alexander Cross’s son and Mira Alonso launch a military raid on the most dangerous secret society in Europe, I would have called them insane." "We are insane, Yuri," I said, picking up a silenced sidearm and sliding it into my tactical holster with a sharp, metallic click. "That’s why we’re going to win."

JUSTINA "He fought me on socks." "A man of principle," Gregor said, opening the back door for Adonis, who climbed in already mid-sentence about the dragon again. I caught Gregor's eye over the roof of the car for half a second before sliding into my seat, and something about the morning, the coffee, the flyaways, all of it, sat strange and warm in my chest the whole ride to the hospital.

Third Person Point of View: “What the fuck is this?” Viktor asked, frowning at the sight of the men carrying the crate. The men brought in the boxes that were arriving from nearby families who were pledging their loyalty to Esteban, and this in specific was for Viktor. “It came to you, from Alexei Aslanov” one of the men said, looking down at his feet, avoiding his and the Alpha’s eyes. They knew the punishment for trying to do so, and each one of them wanted to keep that head of his over his shoulders.

And behind them—taller, armored, mechanical—came the ASA agents. Humans in black combat suits, their helmets glowing blue, guns humming with energy cores. One of them shouted through a speaker, “Targets located! Engage and capture! Use non-lethal on the female—repeat, non-lethal on the female!” “Oh gee, how considerate,” I muttered, ducking another shot. “They want me alive. I feel so honored.” Gregor’s wolf form tore forward in a blur of silver and blood. He hit the first Black Fang soldier so hard that the man went flying into a tree with a sickening crack. Another came at him with twin daggers—Gregor ripped his throat open with his claws.