A exiled life in the shadows

A exiled life in the shadows

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing52m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Aug 26, 2021
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Fiction
Mystery
This is the story of one of my ocs Shadow she is a hybrid of vampire and night wolf and has been exiled from her home world and has joined S.H.I.E.L.D and now leading a team of five counting her self. But you may ask why was she exiled well it's for a murder she never committed the murder of her own mother whom which she watched die in her arms when she was seven and the only way to get home is to kill her enemy or thought enemy but once the truth behind the 293 year old murder is uncovered changing her life for ever. Will she learn to let go of the past and move on or will her vendetta over power her mind or will she see through to the almost unbearable truth find out. Everyone please leave me a comment about what you think or questions you have about the book or even possible even me because this is the first book I've ever wrote. And please follow me that way I know you like what I write and want more thank you.
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Lara, in this magical and enchanting world, nothing is a lie! So believe in fairy tales. This was the phrase my mother whispered to me every night with her gentle voice. When she read the story of "Jack and the Beanstalk," I would always curiously ask: • But why don't I have a magic bean that can take me wherever I want? She would smile kindly and keep hope alive in my heart. We all believed in magic and wizards as children, fairy tales, and Little Red Riding Hood! I wished I would never know the bitter taste of reality. But years after her death, I faced the harsh reality of the world; a reality I had always tried to escape. After my mother's death, her voice remained with me, inviting me to the bright world of hope; unlike many who grew up and no longer believed in any childish dreams. But I remained faithful to stories and the land of fairies, believing that destiny awaits us all! We are born into different tales and live with love. However, the bitterness of the world ensnared me in its grip. Just when I was only nine years old, I became acquainted with the bitter reality of life; when the snowy night arrived! I had never seen snow so terrifying and ugly. Because my mother was in bed, coughing up blood and taking her last breaths. A tiny bit of white snow had fallen from my woolen boots onto the ground, and when her hand hung limp, droplets of blood dripped from her fingers onto the snow, turning it red.

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