Romans & histoires Milo Sinister 2

Sienna I felt the ground beneath me shift as I saw a figure clad in black leap onto Lucian from behind, wielding a bat. However, Lucian had grown up in an environment full of backstabbers, so he wasn’t fazed when he heard my warning. Instead, he turned and grabbed the bat before it could hit him—at a speed that was nearly inhuman. His icy blue eyes were now frosty with rage, the storm within them brewing to its peak. Anyone would shiver under that gaze. Instinctively, I touched my belly as I backed up, watching Lucian lunge at the attacker. A sickening crack echoed through the space, and the man collapsed, motionless.

You need to understand. Sometimes our life turn into something, when we are not able to know someone, they might have a dark side , yet they manipulated us with their sweet words , it's just like a sweet knife. But at last they will surely stab you from back, Jayden character is similar to this. That's the main point. This book name is "sinful". Hope you understand. I don't have any words now. Maybe I sound too harsh but still it's already on disclaimer. If you don't like this, don't read this. It's someone's hard work. Still I blame myself, maybe there was something I couldn't show, I couldn't explain.

There are times when I wish my legs would give out and I could be free from this. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, I heard approaching footsteps, and, to my surprise, Milo and a girl appeared in front of me. Milo's face shows disgust when he looks at me. Standing at approximately 6'2, Milo is an 18-year-old with fair skin, short blond hair, and light blue eyes. He possesses a muscular physique and holds the titles of Alpha and Luna's son, destined to become the future Alpha. Milo was my second mate til he rejected me. His reputation will suffer if anyone finds out we are mates, which is why he threatened me. I'm not sure what "man card" status means, though. His rejection turned out to b

Milo's eyes went wide with realization and he pushed my wrist away from him, looking towards Sylar worriedly then shrunk against me. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to me then tried to sit up. I rubbed Milo's back to bring him comfort. "No," I whispered. "Milo it was self defense." "He killed him though," Sylar muttered. "He could have knocked him out or something.... He killed both of them." Milo's eyes went wide and he looked towards Stormy's ashes in shock then started to tremble. He looked a little freaked out and I could hear his heart starting to race as he looked towards his bloody hand.

​I looked down. ​Milo, who had been crying for the last hour, was suddenly wide awake. He had wiggled his arms out of his yellow duck fleece. With zero survival instincts and absolute baby fearlessness, Milo reached his tiny, chubby hand across the center console. ​His little fingers clamped firmly into Kaelen Thorne’s thick, dark beard. ​"Da!" Milo squealed happily, giving the facial hair a sharp, aggressive yank.

There were more important things to attend to than my wounds. "No, he doesn't. He's only angry and doesn't know the truth. You also don't know the truth. That's why I want to keep you safe!" As we ran through the gallery, we found an enemy standing in the hallway. I immediately recognised him. He was Colin's warrior. My blood boiled— the ones that hadn't spilled at least. But Mila pushed me behind her. "I got this!" Before I could say otherwise, she snarled and ran with inhuman speed towards the man. She climbed up his body in swift, easy movements and slashed through his throat with her claws before snapping his neck. He was dead before his body hit the floor.

As a precaution the inside is lined with industrial plastic, the kind you use when you don’t want blood to stain the floors, and painted with pine sap. I pull back the flap and peer inside. The smell hits first. Rotting flesh, urine, and sweat. The thing in the corner stirs. "Milo," I say conversationally, stepping up into the truck. "It seems you weren’t completely full of shit after all. We just met some of your old friends." Milo lifts his head, or what’s left of it. His face is a ruined mess, eyes swollen shut, lips cracked and barely clinging to his gums. His arms are twisted at odd angles, the skin barely holding together over the shattered bones beneath.

“Shame on you, I’m going to make so much more powerful. Don’t you want that little wolf? To never be afraid, to be the scariest predator out there?” I throw the wild on a clean table, holding him down as Milo injects him with a sedative. Once the wild is calm and strapped I tell my assistant “Ready Subject 29, he has a job to do. The lucky fucker gets to go to a party.” “As you wish my Lord,”

The world was a smear of grey stone and cruel laughter. Without his glasses, Milo felt untethered, floating in a sea of predatory shapes. He reached out, his fingers trembling as they brushed the cold, damp grass, searching for the frames that allowed him to navigate a world that already felt too sharp for him. "Looking for these, Princess?" Miller’s voice was right above him. Milo heard the distinct crunch of a boot heel pressing into plastic and glass. Milo’s heart stuttered. A sob caught in his throat, making his chest heave, the movement straining the fabric of his oversized hoodie. "Why?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "I didn't do anything to you."