Novel & Cerita 아티스트

She turned towards the door, “Enter.” A woman entered seconds later. “And who is she?” Maxwell inquired. “Maya. Maya meet Maxwell Murray...” “Maxwell Murray...you must be the trouble maker of the pack.” Maxwell shot her a glare. “Watch your mouth now, bitch...if you still want your life intact.” “Okay, enough you two. Let’s get to business.” Sam brushed them off. “Yes, of course...like I said, Arthur Murray owes me a favor.” “Good, this is the plan. In exchange for this favor, you must demand to have a combat with his Luna...”

The journey is long enough, and it gives Aranjo time to think about the Emperor, the Archer God. "Are you witnessing all this? Do you enjoy it and want to fuck me? One thing is for sure, we will do it when I return to the celestial realm and I will make you prostrate asking to be satisfied!" mumbled Aranjo, addressed to the Emperor of the celestial realm. The Archer God who was always watching Aranjo through the portal mirror, felt something tickling. The taste that had been so long gone had never even approached him, even God Archer was sure that the taste was already destroyed.

It was some minutes past 6pm. Caitlyn Hugh was dragging her tired feet back home after a long day at work. As she walked along the lonely road, she looked back at intervals, hoping for a cab to appear. Although she was very much aware that cabs do not ply that road, Caitlyn prayed for a miracle. She took out her phone from the small bag she hung on her shoulder and connected her headset to the device. She was going to click play on her favourite music, but the sound of a car honking halted her.

Chapter Twelve The rain had been relentless all Friday. Sheets of water fell from the sky, drumming against windows and rooftops, as if the heavens themselves were mourning or warning. Nora sat in the art studio, trying desperately to focus on her presentation, but her brush hovered uselessly over the canvas. The colours and lines felt meaningless. Every stroke of paint blurred, smudged by the storm of emotions inside her.

He felt fingers on his arm and turned to see a brunette in a short, dark colored dress that fell just below her knee and a tall blonde in a more socially acceptable length dress standing at his elbow. “Yes?” he asked, having no idea who the pair might be. “Are you Aaron McReynolds? The Guardian who slain the Ripper?” the brunette asked, letting go of his arm. He got this question from time to time, though he was never sure how anyone knew what he looked like well enough to seek him out. “I was part of that team,” he nodded. “And I am Aaron.” Her smile widened. “Oh, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Gretchin, and this is my friend Hilda. We are from Germany.”

And my mate had been taken. finis

Alana gulps before uttering the words that shock each one of them to the core. “His real name is Austin Jones of the Black Onyx Pack.”

All four of these women are impossibly gorgeous, and I’m feeling a little self-conscious as I stand across from them with tangly, windblown hair, dressed in borrowed clothes that don’t fit quite right. “Sorry for barging in like this, we’re just so excited you’re here!” the little curly-haired one chirps enthusiastically. She must be able to read the confusion on my face because she quickly goes on to elaborate. “You met our mates this morning. I’m Astrid, and this is Quinn, Brooke, and Fallon,” she says, pointing to each of the other girls as she names them off. “Nice to meet you all,” I breathe, smoothing my hair with a hand and stepping closer. “Are you part of Reid’s pack, or…”

And beside each city. A woman. Jessica felt her stomach tighten. "What is this?" Henri rubbed his eyes. Tired. "Artists." Jessica continued reading. The dates stretched back years. Almost a decade. One name caught her attention. A woman from Brussels. An emerging painter. A successful exhibition. Then suddenly... Nothing. Career ended. No explanation. Another. A sculptor from Marseille. Disappeared from the art world entirely. Another. A photographer. Moved abroad unexpectedly. Again. And again.