Eric Matthews Novels & Stories

"I was wondering if any of you knows where Mathew is?" The young pups stare at her for a moment, and she thinks they might feel uncomfortable at her presence. Then one of them asks grimly, "Mathew the Omega or Mathew the Warrior? Which one are you looking for, Miss?" "Oh," Emily blinks, confused. Drat, there just had to be two Matthews. How on earth is she going to know if he is Omega or Warrior, whatever that even means? Maybe they called him Warrior because of his physique, because in all honesty, he is built like one.

It is only now I am starting to wither and the strong Beta they used to know is now constantly back to his darkest days. Elder Ray stood up from the middle of the crowd which snap me out of my daze thoughts. He look me dead in the eyes and I knew that he was disappointed with me. "You broke the law by neglecting your mate and turning her away. Yet, you have the nerve to tell us what's not to do and what to do," he said to me angrily.

Turned. The room seemed to contract. “Everything in your life is ordered around,” Matteo said softly. “By money,sponsors, by leagues and by men you’ll never meet. The only difference is that I’m honest about it.” Ezra swallowed. “I worked for this,” he said. “I earned that spot for team captain.” “You earned a jersey,” Matteo replied. “I own the court.” Ezra’s jaw tightened. “You’re doing this because you can.”

Diana heard the supervisor talking to Hammond, she was talking about Elias. We can no longer call him that... he is Mathew Wade, a famous painter who was very successful some time ago and, according to Mr. Clive, you'll have it again. I like that boy. I never thought he was capable of doing what he's doing, but it's like they say... you shouldn't judge by appearances, right?

“Well… yes. I will. But we can have a private meeting to discuss other things.” Matthias put his glass down on my desk and swirled what was left of the drink. His voice softened. “Everybody misses Emery. All of us. The loss wasn’t just your… he was ours too. Those of us who knew him, we can’t stop thinking about him. His jokes, his laugh, the way he did things. It’s crazy how one minute he was with us and the next he was gone.”

“Hi, Naomi. Matt Kingston.” Fuck. Me.

I have the sudden urge to trace all the indents of the forces on his chest with my tongue. “Wait, how the fuck do you know. these three?” Mathius asks. I shake my head to clear those dirty thoughts. I notice everyone staring at us. Emery is peeking at the guys from behind Mathius. I am unsure if she hid behind him or if he pushed her behind him, but either way, they are adorable together. Mathius is the same height as Dylan, with light brownish blonde hair and the same bright sapphire blue eyes as mine. His skin tone is a little darker than mine, which he inherited from Yasmin, who is of middle eastern descent.

I pull her closer to me and stretch out a hand for a handshake to which he took, giving me the opportunity to squeeze as hard as I could. He winces but plays it off. “It’s nice meeting you, I’m Mathew, CEO of Orbit enterprise.” He smirks but I just give him an uninterested look and glance back to Yanna. “Are you tired- would you like to go?” She glances between the two of us and gives Mathew an apologetic smile. “It was nice meeting you.” I clench my jaw, not waiting for his reply, I drag her out of the building.

His golf hat was perched atop his head, and he looked the part of a golfer who had retired to Florida, rather than a man who was playing a friendly game of golf amongst his peers, each of which was probably worth around a billion dollars. I was sick over Lanie leaving, but I didn’t have time to figure out what the fuck the problem was. She was young. Too young for me. Maybe I’d made a torrential mistake giving her a ring. It hurt me to even think it. Damon and Matthew Bryant were there, Damon being the one Bob had pulled in on the deal. Matt was Erica’s boyfriend, Lanie’s best friend. I liked Matthew right off the bat the first time I met him. He insisted on being called Matt, and his sense

MATTEO RODRIGUEZ Matteo Rodriguez has just gotten back from his morning exercise. His body dripped of sweat and smelt of fresh leaves and of woods. He marched straight to the fridge and grabbed a sachet of packaged blood. He tore it open with one bite and gulped the whole content at a go. He wheezed out air and hissed noisily with a squeezed face. There was nothing better than drinking human blood.