Dedicated to my precious mother. Without you, there would be no me and my books. R.I.P. I will always love you, mommy. 1972-2023 *** Years pass, and the damned will come to terms with death. This death will be both bitter and sweet, because he will not be able to fight back because of his feelings. Tyranny will perish with a blow of the sword... Blood will give freedom... this hour will be remembered by all who will know about it. This hour will be cherished by all... The battle of the werewolves, which will be remembered for centuries ... The times when every cursed crown will die and the werewolves will be free ... The times when the kingdoms will be united... The times when freedom will come to the werewolves of the north, south, east and west... The times of freedom begin now... *** The first time Jordan Helx saw her, he realized that he had irrevocably fallen in love and disappeared ... Despite the red hair, this fiery girl always wore only red. She was both a lov

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Chronicles of the Wolf/Mari Angel Pain

... In his dream, Christophe heard gunshots, bright flags and screams… Screaming heart-rendingly, the man came to himself. Vegard hugged the blond man to him, stroking his disheveled hair. Once, while hunting in the forest, a man and a woman found a small wolf cub turned into a baby, and his mother was killed… There were three cubs, as they say, but they did not find the others. Christophe clung to Vegard with a death grip, it seems he could not calm down. — I'm sorry… Filled with drunken snot...— a thick-set man removed his long bangs from his face. An old medallion was visible under a dirty T-shirt. Christophe never took it off even when he went into the woods, managed to keep it intact and clean. No one asked, but everyone knew what was there. A strand of Maria's hair. — You didn't get caught? Where have you been at all? We almost went crazy! We've lost you, old man...— Olga puts the tray on the table by the bed.— You're definitely hungry...— — Why did you decide that?— the

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Chronicles of the Wolf/Mari Angel Pain

— Jordan! Die! No need to sleep!—Friedrich tapped the chair next to the sleeping Helks. — Zandtner, you're pissing me off… And you really piss me off sometimes!—Helx closed the notebook so quickly that he almost tore the page. His insanity reached such heights that he began to paint. —Jordan, you've been looking terrible lately. Let me take Erica and let's leave Espoo. You'll forget Olga if you just get distracted...— After a while, together with a friend, Jordan really forgot himself a little. Friedrich had known him almost from birth. Sipping his beer, Helks realized that his love for Olga, no, his insane obsession with Olga Karsten caused pain much more than joy. But this is not a wound that time will easily heal, it will not allow him to live in peace. He woke up in the middle of the night with a feeling of anxiety. He and Friedrich are not alone at home… *** Jaws ached-this means that animal fangs are breaking through. The wind outside is whistling loudly. Olga Karsten g

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Chronicles of the Wolf/Mari Angel Pain

After going through a couple of buildings and not very good-looking hotels, Olga finally found what she wanted. Fortunately, this old shopping center did not have surveillance cameras, but it had a great roof and a fire escape that could get to this very roof. After loading the rifle, the woman on the roof lay down on her stomach on the icy metal. She stared at the sight for a long time, although she saw her target perfectly without a sight. When one of the guards comes out, the woman shoots directly into the forehead of a man, a Wentworth guard she knows. These identical crooks probably brought photos of local girls to Wentworth to choose which one to bite. They did it. They always do. Olga was once among such unfortunate people. After reloading, Olga manages to take aim at these endless bookshelves as successfully as possible. That's it! No machinations, no kidnappings! She's done with it! Her fingers ached from constantly pulling the trigger, but still no one saw her. Olg

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Chronicles of the Wolf/Mari Angel Pain

The candles at the table smell strongly of wax. Olga felt a little strange in such an expensive dress. — It's too formal, too dry.— says the redhead.—I didn't notice you had a penchant for that.— — Yes, it seems not, it's lively and sometimes very interesting. I think you'll like it here, too, when you get used to it.—Vegard uncorks the wine.— I have never booked a table here, but I took food to work and ordered fish home. Do you think a teenager who eats a lot of raw meat doesn't catch your eye?— — I don't think so. Darling, I don't think at all.—Olga Karsten sighs.— Just a gesture of desperation. I'm sick of everything, Vegard! I will kill Wentworth at any cost.— — Well, well, well...— a dry and low voice is heard and footsteps, barely perceptible to the ear, slowly spread behind him.—Vegard, I remember you. Vegard Vertanen, creepy half-breed, cult missionary. Who else is there? My fornicating fallen wife. So we met.— The person passing behind them sits down at their table and O

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Chronicles of the Wolf/Mari Angel Pain

The door closed behind Jordan Helx.The guy went to the bed and collapsed on it.The legs seemed to have lost all ability to move.— This is not a prison sentence.— the door opened a crack and that pale man, Bjorn, appeared.—It's only for your own good. You don't know what you're going to be dealing with. Consider it just being under guard... Are you hungry? If you want, I'll cook something to eat. —— Will the vampire cook?—Jordan chuckled.— Hey, for me it's actually an insult!—Bjorn raised his purring voice a little.— Just because food doesn't satisfy me doesn't mean I don't need to eat. I like to sleep and eat as much as I loved it when I was a man... —It was very uncomfortable from the gaze.Jordan could feel the cold radiating inside from those eyes that seemed like snow in smoke.— And how did you become vampire? Were you born like this or were you bitten?—Jordan shuddered.He himself could not have expected that he would ask this after all.It's just that for a couple of hour

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Chronicles of the Wolf/Mari Angel Pain

The candles at the table smell strongly of wax. Olga felt a little strange in such an expensive dress. — It's too formal, too dry.— says the redhead.—I didn't notice you had a penchant for that.— — Yes, it seems not, it's lively and sometimes very interesting. I think you'll like it here, too, when you get used to it.—Vegard uncorks the wine.— I have never booked a table here, but I took food to work and ordered fish home. Do you think a teenager who eats a lot of raw meat doesn't catch your eye?— — I don't think so. Darling, I don't think at all.—Olga Karsten sighs.— Just a gesture of desperation. I'm sick of everything, Vegard! I will kill Wentworth at any cost.— — Well, well, well...— a dry and low voice is heard and footsteps, barely perceptible to the ear, slowly spread behind him.—Vegard, I remember you. Vegard Vertanen, creepy half-breed, cult missionary. Who else is there? My fornicating fallen wife. So we met.— The person passing behind them sits down at their table and

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Chronicles of the Wolf/Mari Angel Pain

The door closed behind Jordan Helx. The guy went to the bed and collapsed on it. The legs seemed to have lost all ability to move. — This is not a prison sentence.— the door opened a crack and that pale man, Bjorn, appeared.—It's only for your own good. You don't know what you're going to be dealing with. Consider it just being under guard... Are you hungry? If you want, I'll cook something to eat. — — Will the vampire cook?—Jordan chuckled. — Hey, for me it's actually an insult!—Bjorn raised his purring voice a little.— Just because food doesn't satisfy me doesn't mean I don't need to eat. I like to sleep and eat as much as I loved it when I was a man... — It was very uncomfortable from the gaze. Jordan could feel the cold radiating inside from those eyes that seemed like snow in smoke. — And how did you become vampire? Were you born like this or were you bitten?—Jordan shuddered. He himself could not have expected that he would ask this after all. It's just that for a coup

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Chronicles of the Wolf/Mari Angel Pain

The snow flashes quickly. Someone is in the trailer, and a couple of patrollers are sitting on the roof. It's just that to smell a wolf, you need another wolf. Bjorn was drawing something in a notebook, which depicted the northern lights, and covered his creation with a hard cover. — I'm sorry.—One of the werewolves timidly raised his voice.—We didn't believe vampires were terrible before... And now... And now I see how terribly they lied to us...— — There is a special attraction in all the species and races of the world.— Bjorn said and hid his notebook in his jacket. — Christophe! Stop the car!—Olga almost screamed. The fangs sink into the skin, draw in blood. Olga for some reason does not even feel disgust, looking at how Maria, Bjorn and Stefan satisfy their hunger. Wentworth always hammered into the brains of his wives that the main evil in this world is these pale dead bloodsuckers. But here they are, and Maria is not the reason that they seem so cute. Stefan, apparen

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Chronicles of the Wolf/Mari Angel Pain

The closest was one hotel from the points of Wentworth, already in another city, but close. Olga dialed her number. — Hello...— there was no one on the other end. —We'll kill the crocodile, and we'll leave the ants for later...— — And if the ants, after the death of the crocodile, take and swat the wolf?— Maria appeared as if from a void nearby.— We're ready.— — Yes, yes... I've thought about it many times already...— Olga looked around.— I'm coming now...— *** — ... I'm not going to live in slavery!— The blade cuts through the face. The eye is flowing. The field of vision decreases and blood pours down the face... From this dream, Wentworth Karsten always has pain somewhere there, in the chest, where the heart should be. Someone is diligently beating his fists on the door of his office and bedroom part-time. — Chief, come out!— there is a shout.—We're on fire!— Wentworth realized just now—the antique wooden panels on the walls were starting to crack. Not much time passe