Yassen Gregorovich Alex Rider の小説・ストーリー

I hissed. Alec jogged the distance between us, "If I may," he fished out a small black pouch from his pocket and retrieved what I assumed was a lock pick, "I've been a rogue for a long time. I've learned to get by." "There's cameras," I whispered, angling myself so they wouldn't see Alec pick the lock, "be careful." A charming grin split his lips, "It won't take me long, I've been doing this for years until the Alpha found me and convinced me to join his pack," he turned the knob and cracked the door open, "and done."

Tobias’s voice rang in his ears, reminding him of the warriors fighting valiantly to defend their home. Finally, a flicker of movement caught his eye. Evan was preparing to direct his rogues deeper into the pack territory, and the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. He couldn’t let that happen. In a sudden burst of inspiration, Gregory disengaged from Evan, who looked momentarily surprised by the shift. “This isn’t over, Gogi!” Evan called after him, but Gregory had no time to respond.

Gregory dipped the pen in the ink again and continued, “I wish to stay with the Grey Wolf Pack for a little while longer, not just to see if the Black Burn will try to attack again, but to keep an eye on Alpha Richard. I'm not sure, but I have a feeling he's up to something, and my hunches, as you know, are never wrong. An attempt was made to take his life the day before the war, but I believe there is a little more to that matter than he's letting on. He wants me to believe that his assassin was a Blackburn spy, but I'm not easily fooled. I'll get back to you when I have more information on this matter. Please extend my greetings to Gabriella and her friends." Gregory dropped the quill in t

He grinned and his Russian accent was extremely visible. It took a lot in me not to kill this fucking bastard right now after knowing he killed my father and all those children. "Why don't you come here, and I'll show you how naughty I can be?" I teased, hearing a faint grumble coming from Alessandro. I stood up and grabbed Ivan by his shoulders forcefully pushing him onto the silk sheets of the bed and straddling his waist; His hands immediately flew to my ass gripping it and kneading it through his dirty fingers.

Who had made decisions for her without asking. Who had loved his son enough to plan three years ahead and been killed for it. My phone went off. Unknown number. Not the usual one. A different configuration. I stared at it for a second. Answered. Silence. Then a man's voice. Old. Careful. "Ms. Reyes." A slight Russian accent under very controlled English. "My name is Gregor Volkov. I think it's time you and I spoke directly." A pause. "Before my nephew does something tonight that he cannot undo."

Caden held very still. "I have been an Alpha for twenty years," Gregor said. "I know what a scent mask is and what it covers and what happens when the compound weakens under stress." He looked at the document again. "I also know what it means that someone walked into The Hollow alone and got four people out with the guards neutralised and the signal sent in under twenty minutes." He paused. "Your mate is not ordinary." "No," Caden said. "She's not." Gregor picked up the document.

I paced my dimly lit chamber, my boots striking the stone floor with deliberate force. The torches along the walls cast erratic shadows, flickering like the chaos inside my mind. “ Gregor,” I growled, turning sharply to face him. He stood as still as a statue, arms crossed over his chest, his scarred face unreadable in the dim light. I could trust Gregor because his loyalty was unshakable, and his strength unparalleled. “They have successfully defeated the previous batch of Hunters, I hope you sent more men,” I said, my voice low but taut with anger.

I hate up-close fights with Alphas, but sometimes it's needed and something tells me I’m going to earn every gold disc coming my way. “I’ll send the coordinates. Don’t let me down, Elle.” Francis disconnects the video and the room is filled with silence. I grab the shirt that I tossed onto the floor last night and cover my body before digging into the guts of the file. Octavia has filled it with information, which means less recon for me. Alpha Gideon is in his late thirties; he’s an active member of his Pack and from what my old friend can tell, he hasn’t got a mean bone in his body. “We’ll see about that.” I mutter to myself as I close the file and pull up The Academy’s search engine. Alph

Joe started to laugh. “What?” I asked him. Through laughs, he said, “Geneva?” He looked at Harlow. She raised her eyebrows. “Geneva.” She smiled at him. “What’s Geneva?” I asked, looking at Harlow, then at Joe. Before Joe could answer, Harlow spoke up. “I got this, Joe, you relax.” She laughed. “Geneva was this pain in the ass assignment where we were after this big wig sex trafficker, Igor Bolshevik. We were there for about a month, but every time we would bust an operation, we only got Bolshevik’s minions.

We crossed a courtyard dusted with fresh snow, the ground packed down by the heavy boots of warriors drilling in formation. And there— Near the center— I saw him. Alexandro. He was dressed in simple black armor, moving through the ranks of soldiers like a dark storm. He barked orders, demonstrating techniques with swift, brutal efficiency. I watched, transfixed, as he sparred with three wolves at once, his movements a blur of deadly grace. He moved like a creature of pure instinct, every step calculated, every strike purposeful. His soldiers fought hard to match him, but none could best him.