Viktor Reznov Romane & Geschichten

Evander Vasileon was the first Alpha King who sat in the Moonlight Throne, uniting the three other thrones from different areas of the wilding forest, and from there, the Vasileon’s lineage started to rule… not until the moon’s rage. “Do you understand the words written in that book?” My mind already had its focus on this book when suddenly a voice boomed behind my back. A man unfamiliar to me stood tall with a smug smile on his face. I have no idea who this man is, but one thing is for sure, he is not a normal werewolf but a high one, his clothes could vouch for that. Now, I fully couldn't go back on reading so I folded the book and stood.

He plays the footage from the camera flash he got from the lab. We carefully watch everything in the video. Alpha Tate’s wolf wasn’t comfortable seeing it again, he’s growling and radiating anger energy from his body, but we had to watch it. It’s the only way to know who these scientists are. “There.” He points at the screen. Oliver pauses the video, taking it back a little and stops at the face of one of the doctors. “Isn’t that Justin’s father?” Oliver asks, staring at the screen intensely. He does look exactly like Justin though.

Since they could not trust either the council or its allies at the moment, they had to rely on personal clusters. Viktor, who was born in Konigsberg in 1695, had made and fostered many useful friendships over the centuries. The first thing that occurred to us was a friend from his youth who, with his wife and children, had withdrawn from the political events around the Elevender at the end of the 18th century. He had previously been a council member of the Legion, and when he retired from active service because of his mate, his counterpart, Viktor had recommended Markus as his successor. Ezekiel would certainly not have considered the young, cold, opaque man on his own if Viktor hadn't insis

“Subject Beta? Viktor, what is Subject Beta, and is it hostile?” “No. Subject Beta is… highly non-hostile,” Viktor confirmed, a tiny, almost painful blush rising on his neck. “Subject Beta is a doctoral candidate at the University of St. Petersburg. She is specializing in complex systems theory as applied to railway maintenance schedules.” Oh my God. Viktor is dating. And of course, he didn't just meet a nice woman; he found a woman who specializes in "complex systems theory." It’s like he outsourced his romance to an algorithm. For years, he lived entirely in Vladimir’s shadow, managing his brother’s immense danger. Now that Vladimir and I have stabilized the outer defenses, Viktor finally

Couldn't run. Julian they just threw on the ground. Kicked a few more times for good measure. A man walked in. Older. Well-dressed. Expensive suit. Cold eyes. Viktor Kovlov. "Mrs. Nero," he said. Perfect English but heavily accented. "We met at last. I've heard so much about you." "Fuck you." He smiled. "Such spirit. I see why Nero is so obsessed. You're quite... captivating. Even pregnant and bloodied. There's something about you."

I pull up my contacts, scrolling past names until I find the one I need. Konstantin Volkov.

Walking away, I moved toward the grand fireplace, feeling the warmth on my skin as I stood. “What’s the name of the private collector?” I asked trying to change the conversation. A low chuckle rumbled behind me. “Fine,” Enzo drawled. “His name is Viktor Pavlenko. Russian. Powerful. Dangerous. And extremely paranoid.” My eyes narrowed as I heard him. A Russian? “And how do we convince him to give us the painting?” I asked frowning.

_Dominic “What is it, spill it out,” I said impatiently. “Boss, we have company,” Vini said and we both got up from our respective chairs. The man I was with started to walk towards the back window and looked out. “I never got your name,” I said as soon as he turned and looked around. “Nikolai, but you can call me Nic,” he said, looking between me and Vini. Nikolai. He was Russian, but even as I searched in the hazy compartments of my brain, there was no Nikolai.

Their mates are going to be so lucky to have them. “I just had Mr. Trevor for Bio, Miss Libbs for English, and Mr. Dominic for Economics,” I sighed. “Offt damn, I’m sorry gurl that sucks, Trevor and Dominic are dickheads. Libbs isn’t too bad, but you have to be on her good side,” Chloe says, understanding my frustration.