Alan Campbell Dorian Gray Novels & Stories

I couldn’t let myself get eliminated—not before I had the chance to see Grandma. As I forced myself to eat a few more bites, the dining hall suddenly went quiet. A soldier in full armor strode in, his boots clicking loudly against the polished floors. My heart nearly stopped when I recognized him: Dorian. Gray’s most trusted man. The same Dorian who had been in Shadow Valley Pack and had released me after buying me from that awful underground auction house. I immediately ducked my head, my pulse racing. If anyone could recognize me, it would be him. But then I remembered my disguise. Even Gray hadn’t seen through it—Dorian wouldn’t either. Slowly, I raised my head again, yet careful not to m

"Don't worry, I'll contact the police immediately. We'll go together with them, and I'll bring all the necessary documents. No one will doubt us with both of us there," Dorian said. He genuinely admired Felix. As the manager of Concord Bank's branch in Gray City, Dorian had met more wealthy people than he could count. Most of them put on a polished act in public but often had less-than-noble motives behind closed doors. Even charity was usually just a way to reduce taxes or boost their public image.

Opening the door, Christiana stood in front of her. "I forgot my handbag and umbrella at your house." "So sorry for the inconvenience." Her voice was laced with remorse. Staring at her, Daisy Hunter said," What, No, it's really okay…I too forget my stuff in people's homes." Daisy Hunter said, smiling gleefully, exposing her perfect dentition. Stepping into the dimly lit room, Christiana spotted her handbag and umbrella, grabbing it, she thanked Daisy and stepped out immediately.

It reads Gordon Campbell, 5'9, two-hundred pounds. He’s not flabby or muscled, but he has an aggressive look to his photo. He’s a medium-built black male with rape, assault, manslaughter, and evasion under his belt. Rape is probably what put his name into our records. The other stuff is baby stuff compared to what we’re usually up against. I place the file aside and take another sip of my coffee. Now I have a morning kill. Death has become something quickly ordered and easily carried out. First, you get a picture, then a description. Hours, you go find the guy and kill him for the crimes he’s committed.

"Most people." "I'm not most people." He said it without arrogance. Just as a fact, the way you state the weather. He turned to look at me properly and I got my first real close look at him. Lean. Sharp-featured. Eyes that were a light, clear grey and moved with the quick systematic focus of someone cataloguing information in real time. He looked like someone who had walked through a hundred different rooms in a hundred different territories and found all of them equally interesting. "Dorian Caelstorm," he said.

Amara Cross POV "There are some summaries and simple lessons here. They might help you. Take them." Dorian pointed his index finger toward a stack of neat papers on his wooden desk. I reached out, flipping through them with curiosity, until my eyes tripped over a name written in the corner of one file. It looked longer and more powerful than what my ears were used to hearing. "Dorian Alessandro?" I whispered in shock. A light shiver ran through my body as I stared at the Latin letters written so perfectly.

She skipped her last class and went home, fingering herself in the shower while replaying every brutal thrust, every growl, the way his control had finally shattered. Professor Damon had called it a mistake. She knew better. Men like him didn’t break easily—but once they did, the fall was glorious. The following Monday, tension crackled in the air the moment Damon entered the lecture hall. His suit was impeccable, his expression cool and professional, but Alia noticed the subtle signs: the slight tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes avoided lingering on the front row where she sat again. “Today we continue with moral ambiguity,” he announced, voice steady. “Group discussions on Dorian Gray

He stretched it toward me, that sly smile playing on his lips as he winked and hit answer without checking the caller. "Aya, you won’t believe this!" Geraldina’s voice exploded through the speaker, loud enough to rattle my eardrum, reminding me of that chaotic night at the strip club where I first crossed paths with the arrogant man beside me. "Alpha Dorian called. He sounded terrified." I swallowed hard, eyes widening. Alpha Dorian scared? That egocentric man? How? "He apologized and swore my ice-cream shop will be rebuilt even better than before." I gasped, a heavy realization crashing over me. My gaze flew to Damon. He leaned against the wall, casually scrolling his phone, expression unre

"I know, but Damon…" My mother had suddenly appeared at the door, attracted by the brewing noise; her eyes had grown wide as she spotted Damon and Cassandra half-naked. "What is the meaning of this, Damon? Annie, why are you sobbing?" Cassandra seized the opportunity. She pointed at the pizza I mistakenly spilled on the floor. "Look, Mrs. Scarlett! Your ‘precious’ daughter tried to sneak in and attack Damon! She's trying to get obsessed with him! She doesn't want to accept that the Alpha already chose me. Your daughter keeps doing crazy things even when I'm the true Luna. I have been waiting for this poor thing of yours to leave him for me!"

But seeing the soft smile on her face and how her heart fluttered made her happy she hardly saw her smile since the death of her parents and the beginning of her torture, but it was different now, who knew being in the arms of her mate would bring back that angelic smile. ____ Alex trailed through the hallway taking slow steps in the dark as he used his wolf vision to walk through, their had been a sudden black out in the pack house and it's been over an hour since the lights went of again and it still hasn't been restored, he knew Damien had gone to check it but he hasn't returned yet he was getting slightly worried about it, he turned at a corner arriving at the hallway leading to the Ligh