Novel & Cerita Lollipop Chainsaw Rosalind

Just an older man with silver hair and eyes like oil; slick, dark, unreadable. They called him consigliere. Advisor. Manipulator. He smiled at her like he knew everything. Including why she was here. She avoided him for the rest of the day. But that night, as she cleaned the study, she found something. A black notebook, half-buried under a pile of folders. Inside, dates. Payments. Names. Including her father’s. One name was underlined in red. "Project 5B : Initiated by A.D." She blinked. Her breath caught.

Pillows and frames are scattered all around the floor, making me cautiously watch my step incase I step on one. My heart skips a beat at the sight I see; Rose sitting onto the ground as she cries out while her right hand is currently holding onto a knife—signalling her left wrist, leaving me frozen at my spot. I can't help but continue to look at her from behind, remembering that I've once see her this way before and it wasn't pleasant but the last time I saw her, she already did. ''Rose.'' I call out softly, afraid if I might startle her.

Another night without hearing his voice or shifting beneath the light of the moon. Another reminder of everything I’ve lost. Rosalind’s fingers caressed my jaw, “Hey, let’s go to the diner and have some milkshakes. I think I’ve had enough werewolf for the evening.” I nodded slowly, the smile slowly growing on my face. She winked, dragging me back towards our table. I gathered my suit jacket as well as Rosa’s clutch, but fucking Conan had the audacity to speak to me again after Rosalind put him in his place. “Leaving before the run, Wood?”

Blakely slipped through my fingers, and while every inch of me wanted nothing more than to hold on—to burrow my claws into her gown, into her very soul, so that she could never, ever leave me—I could not. Much too soon, Rosalind returned to my arms, her hair once again golden and eyes a churning emerald. “You seem distracted, God of Wolves.” She purred as we swayed, “Don’t tell me you’re possessive of your little blue-haired pet.” I dragged my eyes down her face, past lips that were now a different shade than they’d once been, to the amulet circling her throat. Dangling from a silver chain was a stone. A stone so bright and blue.

her blood pressure raised resulting in a burning blush creeping through her neck, ears, and finally to her cheeks. Though she was sure that she had never seen the person kneeling in front of her, giving her the Cinderella slipper moment, her heart recognized him as rather familiar. As for her brain, it stopped working the moment she saw him. She was no longer the hot-headed kitty who had a devilish plan (according to her). It was as if she was possessed by someone. After slipping in both feet on the slippers, Wilson stood up, his eyes never leaving her. He had stepped too close to her, the difference in their height made Rosalind raise her head. The waft of wooden fragrance mixed with mint g

Axel whispered, kissing Rosalind on the lips as he waited for her to adjust to his size. Rosalind was in pain. No one can deny that Axel's size was not typical to this world. And the reason why she pushed this session back for so long is because of this very reason. In hopes of distracting Rosalind from the pain, Axel kisses Rosalind's shoulder blade and up to her lips.

Overwhelmed by his piercing stare, she retreats into herself, her eyes dropping to her lap as she nervously interlocks her fingers, a nervous energy radiating from her. “Look at his smile!” Saisha's whispering words cut through the tension, prompting Rose to lift her gaze once more, her eyes drawn to the chain around Kaden's neck. Confusion clouds her features initially as she tries to make sense of the symbol adorning the chain, but a sudden realization dawns on her, draining the color from her face as she connects the dots.

Outwardly, she was a beautiful young woman looking bold in her little peach dress and simple white pearl jewelry, her legs encased in black pumps with mid heels. Her caramel-colored hair neatly framed her face, emphasizing her oval-shaped face and big long-lashed eyes, the color of sapphire. Her eye makeup was of the smokey fashion but her lips were shiny with colorless lip-gloss. She would have worn red lipstick but she hated the stain it left on glass cups. It could be so messy and she was not ready to bother with wiping her lips or the stain with a serviette or something. On the table was her white envelope purse with thin silver chain hands and lying beside it was her phone.

No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t pull free. “What are you doing?” I whispered in horror as he lifted the glass and drained it in a single swallow. He didn’t release my hand. Instead, he brought it to his lips. A hot tongue traced over the wound, sending a wave of sickening sensation through me. Only then did he let go. He stepped back and began unbuttoning his shirt. With a sharp motion, he tore the chain from around his neck and tossed it to the floor. And then I understood. A powerful, primal scent flooded the room. It was similar to a werewolf’s—but not the same. Stronger. Sharper. Far more intense.