OSM_1015

[Mature content. No rape]
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"Mr. Archer!" She hurried her footsteps after the cop, who seemed to have already memorized the way out of the small two-story house.

"It's Adrien, not Archer," he said, not bothering to turn around and look at her as he turned the door knob.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes. "We need to talk, " she said, following him out of the house and closing the door behind her.

"I had enough time to spend with a dunderhead like you," she heard him say, and she fumed.

"How dare you?!" She fisted her palm furiously as she saw him walk past the little gate. "You son of a chameleon!"....

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In a world where mythical creatures like werewolves, vampires, and elves exist alongside humans, a long-standing war has left humans living in fear and captivity. Elves, once thriving, have become extinct due to the ongoing conflict. Alicia, the last surviving elf, is raised by Mrs. Anderson, whom she believes to be her biological mother.

However, when Alicia confronts a man named Adrien, whom she calls Mr. Archer, tensions rise. Adrien's apparent disdain for Alicia triggers a fiery exchange. Unbeknownst to Alicia, her unique heritage as the last elf will soon become a central focus in a world where mythical beings and humans clash.

This story promises intrigue, conflict, and a journey of self-discovery for Alicia as she grapples with her identity and the ongoing strife between mythical creatures and humans.

Hunting Down the Last Elf

Gloria's gaze, once locked onto Christon's enigmatic eyes, slowly descended to her wrist, the site of the recent encounter. Questions lingered on her lips, unspoken inquiries that sought answers to the inexplicable moments that had unfolded.

Before she could articulate her thoughts, Christon's voice, now void of its earlier dark undertones, intervened, casting a calm over the brewing storm of her confusion.

"You should rest for a while," he suggested, his words threading through the air before she could muster the words forming in her mind. His tone, though composed, carried an undertone of concern.

Gloria, caught between the echoes of vulnerability and the mystique of the encounter, nodded though still caught up in confusion. As Christon gracefully rose from his seat, a fleeting moment of unreadable expression crossed his features, leaving Gloria to wonder about the intricacies concealed beneath his poised exterior.

The Lonesome Flower