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

Clearing her throat in a feeble attempt to steady herself, Alicia pushed herself up from the settee, her face still carrying the telltale flush of warmth. Without the veil she had long removed when she was left alone, there was nothing to hide it. The firelight bathed her in a soft glow, catching the golden strands of her hair, illuminating the slight tremor in her fingers as she smoothed down the fabric of her dress.

But in her haste, the book that had been resting on her lap slipped from her grasp, tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. Instinctively, she crouched down to retrieve it, her fingers brushing against the worn leather cover.

By then, Adrien had already turned away, his broad frame moving with effortless grace as he strode toward the suitcases that had been carried up by the servants. The wet strands of his dark hair clung to the nape of his neck, droplets still trailing down his back as he stood before the neatly stacked luggage.

Unhealthy Thoughts, and Inappropriate Position