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.

“Please scan every detail about her with a fine toothed comb before you come to a conclusion.” “Hi Dori, how is dad? He would tell me everything is fine so that I don't take any stress regarding him but I want to know the truth. It has been almost two months now. I thought my work with this man will be over sooner but it seems like fate is not in favor of me.” Sophia scoffed with bitterness. Dori laughed aloud. “What is this Saul Campbell like, who makes a sudden and remarkable entry in your life?” Sophia rolled her eyes. “Well, to start with, he is the minion from Hades who doesn't know how to smile. The guy who can fill all these intense emotions in a person in one shot is actually a major

“Yeah excuse you. Ignoring the instructions of the host is rude. The invite clearly specified black and white attire. What is this?” “I don’t think that should be a problem.” The woman stepped forward with a serene smile. “I’m Brent Gray. Nice to meet you.” Melissa’s face drained of color, her eyes widening in utter shock, almost popping out of their sockets. “What? G…Gray as in..” “I’m the daughter of Mr Gray of Gray corporation. I’m representing my father here. He’s not in good health. What I did not know is that this is how you welcome your guests. I’m hig….”

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.

I had just taken a sip of water, trying to calm my restless nerves, when I caught movement from the corner of my eye. Dorian. Of course. He approached my side of the table slowly, with the smugness of a wolf who thought he had the upper hand. “Didn’t expect to see you so… revitalized, Dominic,” he said coolly, his eyes glittering with unspoken malice. “Must be something in the air. Or perhaps someone in your bed?” A few Alphas glanced up, sensing tension, but no one said anything yet. I didn’t even blink. “Ah, Dorian,” I said, setting down my glass with calm precision. “Still obsessed with what’s in my bed? You should really get a hobby. Or therapy.”

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.

The attack had come just before dawn—a wave of The Mother's creatures testing our barriers. "Healer!" A voice called from the door of the tent. Alpha Elias stood there, his face grim. "We need you. Now." I followed him outside, jogging to keep up with his long steps. "What's happened?" I asked. "Dorian," he said, spitting the name like poison. "He's here." My heart stopped. Dorian. My mate. The man who thought I was dead. Elias led me to the edge of camp where a small group had gathered. In the middle stood Alpha Dorian Graves—tall, powerful, and dangerous. The man I'd loved. The man who'd been twisted by sadness and The Mother's manipulation.

"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.