101 Dalmatian Street Fanfiction Novels & Stories

[Max’s POV] Damen is the devil himself! I love that man. I had not expected to take it this far already with our little mate, as she is human, and I am fighting so hard to not freak her out. Then, here comes Damen with his dark brilliance, bringing our mate to sit on my lap so we can play. Dominic (Dom), my wolf, is pacing in anticipation to complete our bond with her, as I am trying to reason with him that she is not ready, yet he insists she is.

“Let’s go.” He took my hand and we stepped outside and started walking. I had no idea where we were going and he steered me in the right direction. I saw the lights and the students before we got there. Stella and her crew were talking to Ms. Bianchi. “Fight dirty. Do the unexpected. Back out if you need to. There is no shame. You’ve impressed everyone, even my roommate which isn’t easy to do.” I reached up and pulled a section of hair from his eyes. His lips softened when I did it. I realized then that Dante had no gentleness in his life, much like mine. His mother was gone and he was fathered by a ruthless man.

She leaves without another word. And I’m left with the silence. Later, Dante shows up again. He’s carrying a bag of pastries and wearing a grin that means he’s about to say something stupid. “You look like someone just told you your dog died,” he says, flopping onto the couch. “I don’t have a dog.” “Exactly. That’s how bad you look.” I take a pastry. “Adelina came by.” Dante groans. “She still thinks she’s your future?” “She knows she’s not.”

“Selene is going to be a big sister.” Damon raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp. “Dante probably has an apartment or something, right?” I shook my head. “Nope. He prefers the packhouse.” He frowned slightly, like the answer wasn’t quite what he expected. I shrugged casually, masking the tension curling in my chest. “Well, if they decide to have kids, I’ll just move into one of the hotel suites,” I said lightly, trying to make it sound like a simple, practical solution rather than a reflection of my own stubbornness.

Fuck, I miss Dante. I'm ready to go home. ******************************************

. I open the cracked door and make my presence known. “Hello gentlemen, Mother.” I nod my head to acknowledge Alpha Patrick, Alpha Dante, Papa, and mother. I take a seat at my desk and look at my father expectantly. “Princessa, I don’t want to take up too much of your time, I know you have plans. So I’ll cut right to the chase. Alpha Patrick and I have been discussing an alliance of sorts.” He starts. I give my mom a questioning look and she looks just as confused as I am. I peer at Alpha Patrick and he seems a bit nervous. “Go on.” I say plainly. Not wanting to get ahead of myself. “Well…” Alpha Patrick starts “We we’re proposing that maybe you and Dante would…” a guttural growl came from t

Immediately, he went to wipe the tables near him as he stood the map beside the table for cleaning the floor later Upon seeing the sudden change of Damon's behavior, Iris suddenly smiled. Her imagination of the 'what ifs' for him meeting her family one day and her knowing everything about him made her anticipate the future - beamingly. It makes her more eager and curious to learn more about Damon - not minding that the name 'El' was just his fake identity as a commoner

For her to stalk him all the way from New York to London and then scatter his hotel suite and sprinkle blood all over, he should have known better. He should have known that she was a psychotic bitch, and she wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted. “We are approaching the beach, Mr. Daniel.” Someone from the front seat called out, and Damien only hummed in approval as he continued to stare out into the deserted streets. “Are you sure this is the place?” Damien queried, turning to face the man they’d caught, and he nodded his head positively.

Her voice hasn’t softened in the slightest, and wow, a prostitute begging, what a concept. I pivot and give her the famous Street stare. It’s a family trait and usually leaves men shaking in their boots. Of course it could be more than the stare. I’m six foot four with plenty of muscle to back it up. I’m one of five strapping boys, as my mother likes to say, and all of us gifted with great genes. “I want nothing to do with that beast from hell you call a dog.” Shivers run down my spine remembering every contact I’ve had with the mutt. Daisy on his hind legs can rest his front paws on my shoulders. He has no training to speak of and enjoys jumping. I could handle the jumping if the dog didn’t