Your Talent Is Mine Wiki Novels & Stories

He was trying to pack a vase that didn't belong to me. This house held memories. I wondered what kind of apartment Tyson has. As the king of werewolves, he must have a really huge mansion. Even some Alphas have their own mansions apart from their pack house. Tyson was very rich. A multi-millionaire. He owned different businesses and estates. "Mummy!" I heard Tak call out my name. I quickly went to his room. His music box was open on the floor. It was broken. Tak looked at me with tears in his eyes.

Orion asks, quite calm and orderly, the utter contrast to my complete discomposure. “What?” “Your talent,” Orion says, grinning. “I have a feeling you’re not going to send that card back. So? Just tell me.” He shrugs. “I’ll make sure we get you on the list.” “Piano,” I breathe, saying the first thing that comes to mind. And what is, honestly, my only real talent. “I’ll play the piano.” “Well, that’s a surprise,” Orion says, taking a step away from me and letting his eyes sweep over me, head to foot. “Have a good day, Juniper Sinclair.”

Continuing to attack my talent would only cause the entire network to turn around and blast their own profiles into pieces. Deep inside the main luxury hall of the Whitmore Moonkeep, Malachi Whitmore had been sitting on his leather fur sofa watching the entire live broadcast, his handsome face turning completely gloomy and dark. His fingers grip his glass cup so hard the glass cracks. He never expected his discarded biological younger brother to possess such a shocking, god-like talent in ancient music, or to be capable of playing such obscure tribal melodies without a single mistake. His whole corporate media plan had failed terribly.

Counted the exits. Measured the distance between him and the doors he'd never reach. When it was his turn, his legs buckled halfway up the stairs. He hit the stage hard, a jarring shock of pain shooting up his side. Gasps rippled through the crowd. A predator’s excitement thickened the air. Zane forced himself to stand. He would not cry. He would not beg. If they wanted to own him, they would have to work harder than that. The blinding lights made his skin prickle. Sweat slid down his spine. He heard the auctioneer’s voice booming through the cavernous room: "Lot Eighty-Two. Male. Age twenty. English-American descent. Healthy. Certified. And obviously—a work of art indeed."

"Don't like that name, huh?" I shook my head. "Speak up, sub," Master Kevin demanded. "I am not a little fairy. I am not a vengeful little sprite hell-bent on making the world suffer when she gets pissed," I explained in a small voice. But my voice grew stronger when I stated the last objection. "Also, I am not a tiny little thing!" "Baby, you are a tiny little thing," Master Kevin said with a delicious smile. "That's the way we like it. You're small enough to fit perfectly between us."

"Are you jealous of talented people like me? Sorry, but talent is something you can't do anything about. I often wonder why I would be blessed with so many things. "I have great looks and a perfect body, and I even have such a high IQ and potential! "I've been wondering about it for a long while. It must be because I saved the galaxy in my past life. That's why I'm so blessed in my current life! "Still, there's no reason for you to despair. You should be honored to have encountered me. If you're willing to put in effort, you can compensate for your lack of talent." Grayson narrowed his eyes at her, giving her a sideways glance. He looked puzzled.

Following that brief rant, Sheila paused for a moment before continuing, "That's why I decided to give up on it! I haven't trained much anymore!" Diane empathized with Sheila and immediately held the latter's hand. "Sheila, there are some treasures in this world that can change a person's constitution and talent for attainment. We just need to work hard. I have no talent either, but now I'm working hard to improve myself so I'll break through to level nine grandmaster as soon as possible!" "Really? Do such things exist?" Sheila's red lips parted open slightly when she heard that and there was a marked expression of shock on her face. She had never heard of such treasures before in her life.

I released my lip. The anger that hit me next was clean and fast and I held onto it with both hands. "You want to keep me hostage." Not a question. "That's what this actually is." I looked straight at him. "You have no right. I am not your property. I don't belong to you. I don't care about the alliance. I don't care about any of it." I stood up so fast the chair scraped. "I'm leaving. Right now. And there is nothing—"

I thought I might be dead by the end of the night from keeping up with all the people who wanted a piece of her. She looked so beautiful and perfect in her periwinkle lace dress and silvery shoes; every inch the model she was outwardly, but inwardly, that artistic mind of hers was brilliant and respected for the work she did in her field. My girl was a celebrity tonight. It damn well helped to see my gift around her neck too. She is mine, people! Mine! And don't fucking forget it either!

But now we have seen how much depth you possess and we're willing to seal the deal and also invest in the shares of the new product. She acclaimed and just like that, a heavy load was taken off my shoulders. "Thank you... Ms.. ummm.." I mumbled awkwardly. "Ms Simone, Simone Roberto." She smiled at me and I smiled back brightly. "Thanks for the chance... Thank you for listening to me," I appreciated and for some reason, felt a splash of excitement. Why did I feel so happy? I was practically scoring more points for an empire I wanted to destroy. But that was the war, winning against Silas was the battle at hand.