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81 Lisa’s Panic
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2025-05-25 00:10:30
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Fated In Darkness 166 And Then She Woke Up
Natalie Adrian laid me back like I was something sacred, and worshipped every inch of me with his mouth. When he bit me—his fangs sinking in with a dark, exquisite ache—it sent me spiraling into bliss. My moans filled the room, my body trembling beneath him, every nerve alight. He feasted like I was his favorite indulgence—slow, intense, deliberate. Every lick, every kiss, every teasing suck pushed me higher, until I was clutching his hair, gasping his name, aching for more. I didn’t want gentleness. I wanted all of him—raw, consuming, real. And when he finally thrust into me, filling the ache, claiming every part of me, I shattered. I gave in—utterly, completely—letting him take me to the edge and over. Afterward, wrapped in his arms, our breaths mingling in the silence, I sank into a deep, dreamless sleep. I didn’t realize how long I’d been out until I blinked at the sunlight slanting across the room and saw the clock. Noon. Adrian was gone. Not just from the bed—he wasn’t in t
Fated In Darkness 165 The Girl I Used To Be
NatalieI should’ve been happy Alison was here. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t be. Not when my mom was hanging by a thread—body failing, future uncertain. Cancer was one thing. But Strigoi? That was another kind of death.A hollow, bloodthirsty shell of a person, doomed to darkness and isolation. My mom would never want that. I knew it in my bones—she’d rather die for real than become something unrecognizable.So I lay in bed, alone, trying to pretend I could rest. Adrian had begged me to nap, and maybe I gave in just to shut him up. But sleep didn’t come. It wouldn’t. My thoughts kept spinning in circles, crashing into the one thing I didn’t want to face: life without her.Alison was just two doors down, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I didn’t trust her. Not fully. Her father had destroyed everything—he’d broken my mother, and he’d tried to break me.I hated him with every cell in my body. And if karma was real, it should’ve been him rotting with Strig
Fated In Darkness 164 When Fire Judges The Dead
Dimitri Lancly and I did the only thing left to do. We tore through the manor like death incarnate, methodical and without pause, slaughtering every last Strigoi that remained inside. There were no cries for mercy. No time for second chances. These creatures weren’t kin. They were bastard fledglings—products of stolen venom, born in darkness without purpose, without honor. Knowing where they came from, what they were, this wasn’t just justice. It was cleansing. One by one, we cut them down. Most barely knew how to fight. They lunged like feral animals, high on borrowed power and blind to what true strength looked like. Their bodies burned beneath our blades, their screams echoing through the rot-stained corridors. It wasn’t a fight—it was a purge. And it had to be done. Because the longer they lived, the deeper Vincent's corruption would take root. As we moved room by room, the silence that followed us was deafening. A stillness not of peace, but of absence. An absence of lineag
Fated In Darkness 163 Not Kin Just Corpses
Dimitri“What about the Strigoi in this house?” Lancly asked, his voice edged with cold contempt. “Why didn’t they inform us?”I turned my gaze back to Lukeman. The question had been circling in my mind like a vulture. The attack on us was unthinkable. Reckless. Suicidal.Everyone in our bloodline knew what it meant to strike at a lord. It wasn’t just a crime—it was a potential death sentence. The siring lines ran deep. A blow to a lord could collapse entire branches of the clan. It was why Volodymir—our progenitor—was forced into slumber rather than death. Killing him would have taken us all.But the ones in this house had attacked without pause, without fear.That meant one of two things: either they were not informed of who we were… or they didn’t belong to us at all.“This house,” I said, stepping forward. “Where are the original Strigoi who lived here before? The ones we sired?”Lukeman hesitated, but not for long. The answer was already written in the guilt rotting behind his ey
Fated In Darkness 162 The Lord Of Ashes
Dimitri I waited, watching Lukeman wrestle with whatever scraps of courage he had left. The chains groaned softly as he shifted, silver sizzling against his flesh, smoke rising in ghostly tendrils. Then it came—quiet, defeated. “Everywhere,” he rasped. “He has places everywhere.” His voice cracked like dry bone. “And no,” he added, “the humans aren’t willing. Most don’t even know what’s being done to them.” My jaw tightened. That was a violation of the sacred accords—the bloodbound laws that kept our kind from descending into chaos. We were forbidden to feed or turn without consent—unless the human’s lineage was under protection and offered by the family head. This wasn’t just betrayal. It was blasphemy. No wonder he’d feared Brian overhearing it. I stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “Why is he administering the venom?” Lukeman’s head dropped. He shook it slowly, a man already buried by guilt. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “But one thing I do know—Lady Martina knows he is alive
Fated In Darkness 161 A Truth Worse Than Death
Dimitri I studied Lukeman in silence. He was unraveling fast—sweat slicked his brow despite the cold, his breaths sharp and panicked. But panic wasn’t enough. I needed truth, not fear. And fear had a way of distorting everything. I stepped in closer, gaze cutting straight through him. “Vincent didn’t kill Brian just because he overheard a conversation about mass-producing Strigoi venom. That alone wouldn’t warrant a death that brutal. And if you’re about to say it was to protect his identity—don’t. Brian wouldn’t have recognized him. The Pierces joined the fold five centuries ago. Vincent’s name hasn’t touched a single lesson in generations.” I let the silence stretch, let the weight of what I was implying drop like a stone in water. “So tell me—what did Vincent think Brian heard? What was so dangerous, so damning, that it couldn’t be allowed to exist in the mind of a tribute rejecter?” Lukeman looked like he might lose control of his bowels then and there. Good. That meant the
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