Absolute Dweller Novel Novels & Stories

They stood in the hallway of the apartment that was theirs, with the books on the north wall shelves and the second desk and the field guide and the scarf in the drawer and all of it accumulated around them, eighteen months of it, and Daniel turned on the lights — not because it was dark, but because the gesture felt right, the apartment receiving them in its full illumination — and looked at Adrian looking at the apartment the way he had looked at it from the beginning: with the recognition of the right place. "We're home," Daniel said. Adrian looked at him. The full expression. Everything. "We're home," he said. End of Chapter Sixty-Five

she asks What is with all these damn questions? "Minneapolis. A-an apartment off Van Buren Street." Damn my throat fucking hurts. There is that damn sympathetic look again. "Jared, you live in upstate New York."I look at her like she has grown 3 heads. "It's true Jared, you moved here a year ago, you are one of the most famous contractors in the city. You moved your girlfriend Laynie Contessa here with you and got married. She is your wife."

“We should head to the safe house, I am sure Quinn knows you and her are together.” “Really?” Ivy said with a sad face. “I thought you said we’re safe here?” “We were, but with your energies like that, I’m sure the whole Dweller world is on fire right now, you see you two dwellers are soul Dwellers.” “Soul Dwellers?” they said in unison. “Another time, let’s go.” He said leaving the room. Ivy and Nick followed him out of the room and to a waiting car. Ivy was scared, she wasn’t sure where they were going. She was glad she was back with Nick, she felt safe.

“I need food. That’s what I need. Preferably without an audience or a murder match.” Honestly, Dax’s apartment was beautiful, velvet walls, glowing chandeliers, and furniture that looked like it belonged in a royal suite but now I missed my noisy dorm room, my hard bunk, the smell of burnt toast, and my crazy friends who weren’t obsessed with my body temperature or heartbeat... maybe Abigail is but it was better than these men, those girls probably didn’t even dare to visit, this place screamed Elite Territory...Enter and Die. Dax, lounging like a smug prince by the window, tilted his head. “Alright, alright. Riven will bring everything. Breakfast and medicine in bed...see? I take care of my

Stooping, he collected his shoes and stood, offering her a hand to rise. Once she was on her feet, Evelyn turned towards the door, but stopped when her eyes landed on the picture windows. Large snowflakes fell, drifting at wide intervals and glittering weakly in the city lights. Following her gaze, Andrew huffed a laugh. “Snowfall in October. I can’t remember the last time that happened,” he whispered, then turned towards her. “It never fails. The most extraordinary things are constantly transpiring around you.” The irony wasn’t lost upon her. With a deep sigh, she replied, “I think we could both do with a lot more ordinary. Our present life composition has come to feel like the weight upon

The incredibly loud sound of pacing in fact, the slow and steady pacing of predator on a wet stone surface slowly started to fill the emptiness death have left in its wake. With sound came scent, I could smell the damp stale air then feel it creasing the exposed skin of my arms, feel the cold seeping into my bones from the stone slab under me. It took some effort to open my eyes, I wasn't fully aware of myself. Everything seemed strange, foreign and uncomfortable. Like my skin wasn’t my own! Forcing my eyes open, I was confronted with snow, it hovered and floated in the darkness over my head. Beyond it though was not sky, but a ceiling of stone. No, this was not snow but dust. I could see it

She just turned her back on him, walking toward her bed and pulling the covers up as if to shield herself from his very presence. Darius didn't leave. He sat on the small sofa, his large frame looking absurd in the delicate space, his eyes fixed on her. He was a Hedalgo, and he was used to winning. But as he watched her shoulders shake with silent sobs, he realized that in this tiny apartment, his money and his name meant nothing. Only his presence did. The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of Hezekiah’s apartment, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air—and the imposing figure of Darius Hedalgo standing amidst a sea of cardboard boxes.

she pushed and kicked but nothing happened not even a crack Now she was worried Different thoughts played in her mind "What if she had been traded again? To another man? To another hell hole? Arwenna heard the chains fixed against the iron latch outside clang against each other meaning someone was there, outside opening the door Panic set it, she gently walked towards the bed, slept on it again as if unconscious The sound from the chains stopped The door opened, someone entered his footsteps barely making a sound, the figure stopped beside her bed, dragging the chair close to the bed sitting down

We drive the rest of the way in silence, broken only by the radio murmuring some forgettable song. The city rises up around us eventually glass and concrete and too many people. A place big enough to disappear in. I chose it for that reason too. The apartment is small. Second floor walk-up. One bedroom, one bathroom, a narrow kitchen that smells faintly like lemon cleaner and new paint. I unlocked the door this morning, checked every corner, memorized every exit. Aidan steps inside like he’s crossing a threshold into someone else’s life. “This is… nice,” he says, uncertain but polite.

Morning in Dawson’s house feels like living inside a held breath. The coffee pot hisses. The refrigerator hums. Somewhere down the hall, a floorboard complains softly, Jace, probably, roaming like a restless ghost with a stomach and no patience. The whole place is awake, but none of us are resting. We’re simply vertical. And I. God, I am aware of Dawson in a way that makes my skin feel too thin. Not because he’s doing anything. Because he’s not.