Novels by Fdh

The flight to Switzerland took eight hours.Alexander didn't sleep. Didn't eat. Didn't breathe. He just stared out the window, watching the clouds drift past."You're going to die," William's voice said from the speaker. "The only question is how."Alexander didn't answer.He just turned off the speaker.---The lab was hidden beneath a mountain.Alexander walked through the tunnels, his footsteps echoing off the walls, his heart pounding in his chest.And then — light.A room.Filled with computers. Monitors. Weapons."Welcome, brother."William stood in the center.Surrounded by screens.Each screen showed a city.London. Paris. Tokyo. New York."In twenty-four hours," William said, "these cities will burn.""You're insane.""I'm free.""Free from what?""Free from Henry. Free from his expectations. Free from his dreams.""So you're going to kill millions of people?""I'm going to change the world."Alexander walked toward him."You're going to die.""Maybe." William smiled. "But no

Alexander came home three days later.He was thinner. Paler. Broken. The babies didn't recognize him. Nora cried when he tried to hold her."What happened out there?" I asked.He didn't answer.Just walked to the bedroom.Closed the door.I followed."Alexander.""I killed them.""The clones?""They weren't alive. They couldn't feel. They couldn't think.""Then why do you look like you're grieving?"He turned to face me.His eyes were red."Because they had his face. His hands. His eyes. When they fell, I watched Henry die. Fifty times. And every time —" His voice cracked. "Every time, I felt something.""What did you feel?""Grief. Regret. Love.""For Henry?""For the father I never had."---I sat beside him on the bed.Took his hand."He was a monster.""I know.""He murdered your mother.""I know.""He tried to kill our children.""I know.""Then why do you still love him?"Alexander was quiet for a long time.Then: "Because he was my father. And no matter how much I hate him, I c

The news spread quickly.Cloning scandals. Illegal laboratories. Henry Black's legacy of horror."We need to go to Siberia," Alexander said. "Before the rest wake up.""I'm coming with you.""No.""Alexander —""You have three babies who need their mother. I have a brother who needs to be stopped.""I'm not letting you go alone.""You're not letting me go at all. You're staying here. With them."He pointed to the nursery.Eleanor was crying. Henry Jr. was watching. Nora was sleeping."They need you," he said."And I need you.""I'll come back.""Promise me.""I promise."He kissed me.Then he walked out the door.---The flight to Siberia took fourteen hours.Alexander texted me when he landed."I'm here. The facility is thirty miles north. I'll check in when I can.""Be careful.""Always."He wasn't always.He was reckless. Impulsive. Desperate.I spent the next six hours pacing.---The facility was buried in ice.Underground. Hidden. Forgotten.Alexander walked through the corridor

We flew home the next day.The triplets were waiting — Eleanor screaming, Henry Jr. watching, Nora sleeping. Martha was crying. Lily was smiling."It's over," Alexander said.But even as he spoke, his phone buzzed.He looked at the screen.His face went pale."What is it?" I asked.He turned the phone toward me.A text message. From William."You think you've won. You haven't. The clone wasn't the only one. There are others. Dozens. Hidden all over the world. And they're waking up."---Alexander stared at the phone."What does he mean, 'waking up'?""The clones. They're not just in Geneva. They're everywhere. Henry's been planning this for years.""Planning what?""Immortality."The word hung in the air."That's impossible.""He was a billionaire. He had unlimited resources. He had time.""Clones don't have memories. They don't have souls. They're just... bodies.""Bodies that look like him. Sound like him. Think like him." Alexander's voice cracked. "He wanted to live forever. And h

Geneva was cold.The mountains rose around us, indifferent and ancient. Alexander held my hand. I held my breath."The lab is under the hospital," he said. "We go in through the morgue.""The morgue?""No one questions the dead."---The hospital was quiet.Too quiet.We walked through the emergency room, past the waiting patients, past the tired nurses. No one looked at us. No one stopped us.The morgue was in the basement.Cold. Dark. Smelling of formaldehyde and secrets.Alexander pushed open the door.A man stood inside.Young. Blonde. Blue-eyed.William."I've been waiting for you," he said."You knew we were coming.""Margaret told me. She always tells me everything." He smiled — cold, cruel, familiar. "She's dying, you know. The condition. Just like Nora. Just like Lily. Just like everyone I've ever loved.""You don't love anyone.""I love him." William gestured to the wall.A tank.Filled with green liquid.And inside — a body.Henry.Younger. Healthier. Alive."You did it," A

The weeks after Henry's death were strange. Quiet. Peaceful. Empty. Alexander went to therapy. Lily's health improved. The triplets grew. And then, on a Sunday morning, the doorbell rang. Alexander was in the nursery. Martha was making breakfast. Lily was reading on the couch. I was nursing Nora — the smallest, the weakest, the fighter. "I'll get it," Martha said. She walked to the door. Opened it. And froze. "Who is it?" I called. No answer. "Martha?" She stepped aside. A woman stood in the doorway. Older. Grey hair. Eyes that looked familiar in a way I couldn't place. "Hello, Isabella," she said. "I'm your grandmother." --- The woman's name was Margaret. Margaret Vance. My father's mother. The woman who had disowned him when he married my mother. "I know I'm the last person you want to see," she said. "But I need to tell you something. Something about Henry. Something about the twins." "What about them?" "They're not Henry's." The room went cold. "What do you

The Blackwood Pack territory trembled under the weight of impending war. Rain hammered the ancient pines surrounding the estate, wind howling through the old-growth forest like the howls of rival wolves testing boundaries. Lightning illuminated the jagged cliffs and the dark, churning waters of Puget Sound below — ancestral hunting grounds now tainted by scandal. Inside the mansion, the storm was far more dangerous. Damien Blackwood, Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, paced the master study like a caged predator. Power rolled off him in waves — dark, commanding, laced with the raw dominance that had kept his pack at the top of the Pacific Northwest hierarchy for decades. His bourbon eyes glowed faintly gold, silver threading his black hair like frost on obsidian. At forty-five, he was in his prime: ruthless, magnetic, and utterly unforgiving. And he was furious. The Council of Alphas had summoned him for an emergency conclave in forty-eight hours. Three rival packs — led by the am

The storm outside mirrored the one tearing through the Blackwood Pack. Lightning cracked across the cliffs, illuminating the ancient pine forest that bordered the estate — territory claimed by Damien’s bloodline for four generations. The Blackwood Pack wasn’t just a wealthy family. It was one of the most powerful Alpha-led packs on the West Coast, controlling Seattle’s financial underbelly and vast forest territories beyond the city lights. Damien Blackwood wasn’t merely a billionaire. He was the Alpha. The apex predator whose dominance could force lesser wolves to bare their throats with a single look. His scent — dark sandalwood, aged whiskey, and raw power — had haunted my dreams long before he ever touched me. And I… I was an Omega. A rare, unmarked one who had spent years suppressing her nature, hiding her sweet, tempting scent under blockers so no one — especially not her best friend’s terrifyingly dominant father — would ever know. Until the night in his study wh

The Blackwood estate had never felt more like a gilded prison. Rain lashed the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master bedroom, turning the Puget Sound into a roiling cauldron of gray fury far below the cliffs. Thunder rumbled like distant judgment, shaking the crystal decanters on the sideboard. Inside, the air was thick with the musk of sex, expensive sandalwood cologne, and the faint metallic tang of betrayal. Damien Blackwood — the man who had built an empire on ice-cold ruthlessness and whispered threats — stood at the window, shirt unbuttoned, silver threading his black hair like cracks in marble. At forty-five, he was still devastating: broad shoulders carved from years of disciplined power, sharp jaw shadowed with stubble, and those bourbon-dark eyes that could strip a soul bare or command a boardroom into silence. He was no cartoon villain. He was worse — a man who had lost his wife young, raised Sophia alone, and buried every soft feeling under layers of control… until

Damien didn’t stop fucking me. Even after Sophia’s threat, even after she walked away with that glowing phone in her shaking hand, he simply rolled me onto my stomach, yanked my hips up, and buried his thick cock back into my cum-drenched cunt in one brutal thrust. “Let her send it,” he growled, pounding me with deep, savage strokes. The wet, obscene squelching of his cock churning through multiple loads filled the master bedroom. “Let the whole fucking world know that I’ve been breeding my daughter’s best friend like a filthy whore.” My rounded belly pressed into the mattress as he railed me from behind, one hand fisting my hair, the other reaching under to rub my swollen clit viciously. I moaned loudly, unable to hold back — the sound carrying down the hallway toward Sophia’s room. “She recorded us,” I gasped between thrusts, tears soaking the pillow. “She’s going to ruin you… ruin everything…” Damien laughed darkly and slammed into me harder, his heavy balls slapping my

Sophia’s threat hung in the air like a storm cloud that refused to break. I’ll tell everyone. Damien read the note again that evening, a cruel smile playing on his lips. Then he crumpled it and tossed it aside like it meant nothing. “She can scream to the board. She can call the press,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “By the time anyone believes her, your belly will be round and obvious, and I’ll have you so thoroughly bred that no one will question who owns you.” He found me in the master bedroom, naked on all fours on the bed exactly as he’d ordered. The door was wide open. Deliberately. He wanted Sophia to hear. Damien climbed behind me, spread my ass cheeks, and spat on my already sore holes. Without any warmup, he slammed his massive cock into my cunt in one violent thrust, bottoming out against my cervix. “Fuck!” I cried out, the sound carrying down the hallway. He didn’t hold back. He fucked me like an animal — hard, deep, punishing strokes that made my hea

Three days of suffocating silence. Sophia had not left her room. She took food only when Damien left trays outside her door. No words. No eye contact. Just the occasional sound of muffled crying that drifted through the walls like a ghost haunting the mansion. The guilt was eating me alive. But Damien’s hunger only grew. He found me in the master bathroom that afternoon, fresh from a shower. I was still naked, water dripping down my noticeably swollen belly, when he stepped in behind me and pressed me against the cold marble wall. “Enough moping,” he growled, yanking my hips back and kicking my legs apart. “My daughter can sulk all she wants. Your womb doesn’t get a break.” His thick cock rubbed between my ass cheeks, already hard and leaking. He spat on my asshole, then forced the fat head inside with one brutal push. I cried out at the burning stretch, but he didn’t stop until every inch was buried in my ass. “Fuck… still so tight even after I’ve ruined you,” he groa