Novel-novel oleh Goodness Steve Emanah

Serena."Where do you think you're going, slave?" a voice says from behind me making my body go rigid. No. No, no, no. This cannot be happening, I think, not when I am so close.I forget how to breathe for a moment, as my heart slama against my ribs. I know that voice. I’ve heard it in my nightmares countless times.Slowly, I turn around, bracing myself for Tristan Sinclair’s cold, piercing gaze, but surprisingly, it’s not him. A sharp laugh breaks the silence. A young servant leans casually against the stone wall, his arms crossed, smirking like he didn’t just shave years off my life. Immediately, my fear morphs into irritation. "Relax," he drawls. "You looked like you were about to drop dead from fright." I exhale, unclenching my fists. My pulse is still erratic. "That wasn’t funny." He grins, unbothered. "Maybe not, but it was convincing, wasn’t it? You owe me for not alerting the guards." I narrow my eyes. "Then do me a favor and keep your mouth shut." He mock-salu

Serena.I do not know how long I stand there, frozen in place. Tristan's words echo over and over again, cutting through me like a blade.Gasps ripple through the crowd. Some look confused. Others whisper amongst themselves. A public rejection is a scandal, a disgrace, and only for the rejected.Tristan could not care less. His silver eyes are burning with satisfaction.My legs are trembling and the mark on my throat is burning aggressively. The bond he forced on me is breaking very painfully and violently. I feel woozy because it is getting hard to breathe.Strong arms catch me before I collapse. “Easy,” a voice whispers. “I’ve got you.”I do not need to look up to know who it is. Thorne. His hold feels secure and protective.The crowd is still watching, Tristan is also watching as Thorne lifts his head, his silver eyes flashing.“Congratulations, brother,” he says smoothly. “You have made your choice.”Then, without another word, he scoops me into his arms and walks away.The room is

Serena No!! I scream as I jolt awake from a nightmare. I feel a dull pain at my throat, my body feels like lead and my head is pounding.It takes me a second to realize that it was not a nightmare but a memory of last night.Tristan Sinclair, one of the Alpha heirs to the Nythera pack marked me. I groan as my body hit the bed. I feel soft silk beneath my fingers. This could not be the servant quarters. I blink, my vision adjusting. Moonlight filters through heavy curtains, casting long shadows and I realize I am mistaken. It is still night time.The door across the room is slightly ajar, and through it, I hear raised voices. Tristan and Thorne. “…beyond reckless, even for you.” I could instantly tell that it is Thorne because of the smooth voice, “You let your temper get the best of you…….again.” he says.Tristan’s growl is unmistakable. “She’s a slave.” “Then why are we having this conversation?” Thorne counters, and I can practically hear his smirk. “You marked her in front

Serena.“She is my slave, brother”, Tristan seethes glaring daggers at Thorne.The council chamber is stifling, and it is not from heat but from the power emanating from these two powerful alpha heirs.Tristan’s grip on my wrist is tight. Too tight, but I do not wince because on my other side, Thorne holds on to me just as firmly.Two brothers. Two heirs. Both refusing to let go. The council members watch in deadly silence, nobody wanting to interfere. Time stretches for what feels like eternity waiting to see who wins.I already know the truth though, that this is not about me. I am just the stage on which their war plays out. So, I do nothing, I do not resist, speak or even react.I simply observe. Who will bend first? Who has more power? Who can I use to carry out my revenge? If I can become an ally of the strongest one, I can take down the other and then use his weakness against him.“Let go,” Tristan grits out, his silver eyes flashing with fury.Thorne does not flinch. He merely

Serena.I straighten quickly, shoving the parchment behind me. “I, I was just dusting.”A smirk tugs at his lips. Not the usual cruel, mocking one. This one seems amused.“Dusting,” he repeats, shaking his head. “With your hands all over confidential war reports?”I open my mouth, searching for an excuse, but nothing comes out. I’m dead. This is it, but then, he laughs.Not a dry, bitter chuckle but a real laugh. I blink, stunned. Tristan never laughs.“You really are something,” he says, stepping closer. “You think I don’t see what you’re trying to do?”My heart races and I step back instinctively, but he just leans against the desk with his arms crossed, watching me like I’m the most amusing thing in the world.Then, he tilts his head. “Tell me, little thief, what do I get in return for my silence?”I stare at him, completely thrown off. Where is the usual coldness? The cruelty? The threats?I hesitate. “Anything?.” I state, totally confused by what is happening.His smirk widens. “

Serena.I kneel before Tristan Sinclair, my fists clenched at my sides, fighting every urge to spit at his feet. His golden eyes glow under the moonlight streaming through the high windows."You will show me your utmost submission at all times," he repeats, his voice as cold as the winter winds that once howled through my pack’s mountains.I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing my head down. I know better than to provoke him, but the silence stretches too long, and I see the flicker of amusement in his gaze, like a challenge.Before I can break and say something reckless, the doors to his chambers burst open."Tristan!" A feminine voice rings through the room. A young woman, no older than me, storms in with wild dark hair bouncing over her shoulders. Then, she stops dead in her tracks, her eyes shifting between me kneeling on the floor and Tristan towering over me.A smirk tugs at her lips. "So, it's slaves now, huh big brother?" She crosses her arms, tapping a finger against her elbo