Aot Marcel の小説・ストーリー

“Is Marcel okay? Did something happen? Please tell me that he at the pack…” I laughed. Soft. Cutting. Cruel. “Oh, he’s fine. He is in the pack, just as he always is…” I said. “Perfectly well and pleased with himself, too proud to admit when he is wrong or actually think that he might be making a mistake.” “I don’t understand?” Elara asked, frowning when she heard my tone, clearly trying to process my words. “Is Marcel okay? Did he do something that he would regret? Is it true that he went out last night the way he did?”

“Wait, can I get your phone number? It’ll be cool to hangout sometime.” “Yeah sure why not.” He hands over his phone and I write it down. “I’ll see you at school.” Marcelo says. I nod and I walk away. I finish my lift and by the time I get back to my car I am almost slumped. I check the time. It's five already which explains why my stomach felt so empty. I texted my mom I was on the way home and I started to drive off. The long drive home felt like seconds. I went to Los Angeles Azules on the way back and thought about how today wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be, maybe this semester was going to be good.

Aldi’s eyes shifted to the file Marcel had just finished signing, his eyes narrowing as he heard the explanation. “Gosh, why is that?” Aldi commented. “How can we work together smoothly if I can’t see the lab in person?” Marcel put down the pen he was holding. “Because my lab is under a warehouse owned by my wife’s family, so I can’t give anyone access to it yet,” Marcel said. “So all sales and marketing activities are temporarily done online. Right now, my colleagues and I are trying to create a formula that makes a person potentially the strongest physically, hard to defeat and will not feel any significant pain.”

Nate was counting his points off on his fingers, “Oh, and Aubert thinks he can raise an ‘Old God’, which might just be some monster, and persuade it to do his bidding? Clearly deranged, in my opinion.” Marcell spits at Nate, but he dodges the spittle. Nate turns to George, who in turn looks at Celine, who shrugs, ‘There’s something I can’t put my finger on, pardon the pun.’ Nate smirks, ‘Other than that, nothing in his head looks interesting to me, and we know almost everything now anyways.’ George nods, and she walks back to him, hopping back onto the table and looks at Marcell. George steps forwards,

Celia said. “I’ll decide that,” Marcel countered. “Decide something else.” “Or what? You’ll bite me?” “Maybe I just won’t go.” They held eyes, Celia refusing to back down. He took a step closer to her seat. “You can all go. Atlas, we’ll talk later.” Jon scoffed as he shot to his feet angrily. “Might as well make him Beta.” “We’ll see,” Marcel responded, not taking his eyes off Celia. As they departed the cabin, Celia rose to leave, but Marcel had her sit again with a hand on her head.

It wasn't from Jennifer, but from Julian, who had used the last of his strength to shoot Marcel in the shoulder from a distance. Marcel’s grip loosened. He clutched his blood-stained shoulder, glaring at Julian with murderous intent. However, the sound of police sirens began to echo in the distance. Marcel knew his time was up. "Enjoy your remaining time, Jennifer. Marcus is waiting for you at the bottom of the sea," Marcel shouted as he ran towards a motorcycle hidden behind the bushes and sped away, leaving a cloud of dust behind. Jennifer wasted no time. She snatched the spare car keys from Julian. "Julian, you must stay here until help arrives. Protect Aurora!"

His words carried a tinge of satisfaction, confirming Georgina's suspicions that their presence at the gallery was a cover for a clandestine transaction. As the truth settled within her, Georgina's mind raced to comprehend the depths of Marcelo's involvements and the true nature of his empire. Marcelo reached for a drawer near the bed, retrieving a bottle of wine. With an air of indulgence, he declared, "This was specially made, brought all the way from France. I reserve it for moments of celebration, and today is one such occasion."

Marcel laughed like a crazy maniac, “You expect me to believe that nonsense?” “Now tell me, what exactly do you want from me, tell me and I will give it!!” Marcel grabbed onto my hand. “Beckham, that’s enough.” Zac tried to stop him, but he pushed Zac away. “I didn’t do it, Nevan has gone to get all the numbers registered under Adornia, we will find something,” I tried to explain, “Sir believe me, I have no reason to do it.” “If you hate me, you say it, if you want something, you say it, but you don’t have the right to throw me to the public like that,” Marcel let go of my hand and hit his chest.

“Why me? Oanez can do that.” “She has tried.” “What then gives you the confidence that I can?” “Oanez needs a backup. You are the backup.” “Why not you? You're faster and stronger now, aren't you?” Anger flasked across Marcel's face, and he gritted his teeth. “I have other things to deal with.” Aleric knew that was a lie. No matter the amount of power Marcel had gotten from Oanez, he could not take on Antoine. Without looking, Marcel took the bowl from the witch and presented it to Aleric.

a masculine voice came through. Marcel