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

<p>She quickly slipped into the gown, the cool silk gliding over her skin like a whispered promise. The off-shoulder design left her collarbones and the graceful curve of her shoulders completely bare, the fabric draping effortlessly over her arms before tapering into delicate, lace-trimmed sleeves that kissed her skin with every movement.</p>

<p>The bodice hugged her form with sculpted precision, as if it had been tailored solely for her. Gold embroidery traced along the plunging neckline, swirling in intricate patterns like vines wrapping around her frame, catching the candlelight with every delicate shimmer. The gown flared slightly at her hips, cascading into a pool of rich crimson fabric around her feet, but its most daring feature was the high slit slicing up one side—soaring nearly to her upper thigh, promising glimpses of soft, moonlit skin with each step.</p>

His Escort