Zoro. Mga Nobela at Kwento

How could she not have noticed the sword before? Musa furrowed her eyebrows, “Who are you and why do you recognize me as Musa? That name no longer needs to be tied to me!” Violet stared down at her feet, then back at the sword. “My name is Yak Ann Sinora but many know me as Violet.” Musa held the sword closer to Violet's face. “Who are you? I've never heard the name before and I'm pretty sure I've never seen you before.” Violet snapped her finger, changing into her true appearance.

“Quick! Kill him now!” Zora had a cold expression as she pounced right toward Harvey and swung her machete forward in one fell swoop.

she repeated. He chuckled and ran his hand through his dark hair, which caught the light of the moon and made it look like satin threads. “My name is Slate,” he told her, looking her right in the eyes. “I know the dragon well, Princess, because… I am the dragon.”

Instead, he muttered to himself again and again, "Where's my cheat ability? Why did it disappear? Why can't I see the future anymore?! What's going on?!" His expression was twisted with madness, like a rabid dog gone out of control. [That skill was a limited-time quirk for the newbie male lead, and it was bound to be retracted after a week.] [Even if he stocked the wrong supplies, he should've at least gotten food too. But this guy stocked only ice?] [Another brain-dead male lead, abandoned by the system.] At that moment, the signal cut off. I shrugged again, before continuing to eat my grilled meat.

Grendel snorted again, ashen faced. Lapon simply laughed in turn. "Really? In that case, don't say I didn't warn you that your fief will soon be annexed, right under your watch." "What?!" Murin, Grendel, and Luna paled in indignation. Then, glaring at Lapon, Grendel demanded icily, "Explain yourself!" "Hehe…" The youth chuckled just then. "I am Zoran Zangief, son of Tobek Zangief—chief of the Danifo Alliance!"

The day the new Pack House was finished, my mother, Aria, the Luna, announced the room assignments. Every space in the three-story mansion was claimed. The top floor was the Alpha and Luna’s suite. The room next to it—the biggest, the most beautiful, with moonstones embedded in the walls to soothe a wolf’s soul—was for Chloe. Chloe’s father died ten years ago in the Blood Moon War. He sacrificed himself to save my brother, Jasper. After that, my family adopted her. The whole pack treated her like a hero’s orphan, protecting her at all costs. I traced the blueprints with my finger. Room by room. My name wasn't there. I asked my mother. She paused, then spoke in that gentle, matter-of-fact ton

Few warriors were arranging their training tools, and Hunter was standing in the extreme. Zara doesn't know why everyone loves being around where she should be, but she ignored all and started working, hoping that Tori and Daphne wouldn't bother her. Zara just pour the first splash of water on the floor when Zan emerged from the tree line in the matching area of the territory. Zan came silently, almost spectral, his presence commanding the ground before he touched it. His dark eyes scanned her form, noting the subtle tension in her stance, the way her muscles flexed in preparation.

Two with large heavy looking axes, one with a bow and arrow, another with a sword and the last one with a long sharp spear. "Dragullar," Zara says calmly to them, and I try to stand up and run, but the great fear coursing through my bones has made them too weak to move. "What do you guys want?" "I'm very sure you're aware of that already, Zara." The man in the middle with a bow and arrow says in a strange accent, pronouncing every R with emphasis. "You'll have to go through me first, Dralor." She says, balling her fists, ready to fight.

A thing utterly forbidden to her kind. He came not through the door, but from the shadows themselves, the darkness coalescing into a form of immense, terrifying power. Zoran. His skin was the deep red of fresh blood, his horns swept back from a face of brutal, angular beauty. His eyes burned with the amber fire of the abyss, and his wings, vast and leathery, folded against his back. The sheer, raw masculinity of him made Vyxaria’s mouth water, her pussy clenching in immediate, aching response.

One of them raised a hand to strike her. “Stop!” Zorro commanded. His eyes narrowed, fixed on the bedraggled girl. “What did you just say? Say it again.” Tears welled in Zora’s eyes. Her voice trembled. “Father… my name is Zora. My mother is Ximena. I am your daughter. I came all this way just to find you.” The name struck him like thunder. “You’re… Zora?” He had known of her, but never seen her face. To see her now, looking like a beggar, shook him deeply.