Where I stupidly summoned a demon and now I'm stuck with him.

I curled under the jungle gym and cried my eyes out. Suddenly a shadow hovered over me. I looked up saw a boy about my age staring at me with a Unknown expression. He bent down and wiped away my tears with the pad of his thumbs. I immediately stopped crying and looked into his bright Emerald eyes. "Why are you crying?" He asked and I looked down. "Because I know that'll never make friends here" I said quietly. He was quiet for a minute before finally speaking up. "I'll be your friend" he said quietly while looking into my eyes. I smiled a toothy grin. "Really!?" I asked and he nodded his head. "You'll be mine" ~~~~ Ranked # 2 in Werewolf on 7/13/17 Beautiful cover made by: kaori_nakahodo STARTED: JUNE 28, 2015 FINISHED: AUGUST 22, 2016 EDITING: ON GOING

Ayla has uncovered a terrible secret: the man she loves is in fact her worst enemy. As a mighty army gathers to destroy her and her people, she must ask herself: will he join them to destroy her? Must she cut him out of her heart to survive? Or is there another way – a way to forgiveness and... love? Sequel to Robert Thier's #1 Hit 'The Robber Knight'.

The final battle for love, life and liberty has begun! Ayla has had to defend her people in the past, but this time, it is no mercenary rabble outside the gates of her castle: it is the army of the Margrave von Falkenstein himself. Her people are outnumbered and have nowhere to run. But they do have one last, desperate hope: A knight in blood-red armor with the face of a god and the heart of a devil. Will the enemy succumb to him? And more importantly... will Ayla? The third and final volume of Robert Thier's "Robber Knight"-Trilogy.

When you are fighting for the freedom of your people, falling in love with your enemy is not a great idea. Or is it? Ayla has to defend her castle and her people all on her own, with nobody to help her but a dark warrior she hates with all her heart.

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.