Alan Campbell Dorian Gray Novels & Stories

he said, his voice low and firm. I blinked, caught off guard. “I’m fine,” I replied quickly, but my voice sounded smaller than I intended. “No, you’re not,” he said, already moving toward me. “Let’s go.” He didn’t wait for permission. Dorian just reached for me and gently helped me up from my seat. Grace glanced up, surprised. “Dorian, where are you going?” Dorian’s voice was cold. “Candice is burned.” “She said she’s fine,” Grace said, brushing it off like it was nothing. “Alora’s the one who—”

All those years, while my father worked late, came home with bruises he couldn't explain, woke screaming from nightmares he wouldn't talk about—she knew. And she never told me. "There's more," Alexander said gently. "If you want to keep reading." I did. *Day 21. I met another one today. Not Volkan—someone else. Younger. Crueler. He called himself Dorian.* My blood ran cold. "Dorian." Alexander leaned forward. "What does it say?" *Dorian is everything I expected vampires to be. Cruel, arrogant, hungry. He looked at me like I was meat. Like I was nothing.*

The fire in Amalia’s hearth had burned low, throwing amber light across the carved beams. Shadows curled in the corners of the room, heavy with the scent of pine and smoke. Dorian sat at the edge of the long bench, shoulders hunched, his hands clasped so tight together it looked as if he were holding back the world.

Charlie stiffened. Out of the forest stepped a man in a long charcoal coat, pale hair pulled back loosely, eyes the color of steel warmed by firelight. He looked like someone carved him out of sharp edges and quiet confidence—older than Wren by a decade, maybe more, and absolutely the kind of person who got what he wanted simply by expecting to. Wren's jaw clenched. "Dorian." Dorian gave a courteous nod, as if greeting a colleague rather than a rival pack's alpha.

If someone was to help me, Dorian seems to fit in perfectly. I looked up at him, "Can I tell you something?" I said to him, "Sure, but let's go into my room first." He said, opening the giant colossal doors to his room. Once we entered Dorian's room, I sat down on his bed and I took a deep breath and began to explain everything that had happened. Starting from my strange dreams to Carla's death ,the bite marks on her neck. Dorian looked at me closely as I said everything to him, not leaving any single detail. I also told him about the stranger who had held me captive, and how I had been falsely accused of breaking into the mansion. Dorian listened intently, and when I had finished, he place

He's a very cute guy. “Yes.”he starts. “Heard his name isn't Alex but Ryan.” David starrred impressively at Caleb. “I kinda felt it. I just don't want to conclude yet that Alex might actually not be who we think he's.” “Eva said Alex, I mean the real Author is dead. This person the rest believe to be Alex isn't. I'm at that organization and i know nothing of such.”he explained receiving the cup of coffee handed over to him by David.

Dante said, as I kept my eyes on the phone, my heart racing against my ribcage as I tried processing what he was saying. “Why?” I asked, frowning in confusion “regardless whatever it is, why would he be doing such a thing?” “I’m not sure, we’re yet to find anything about him” Dante said, looking at me, studying my expression as I handed him the phone. He took it from me and scrolling through it again, he handed me the device and I frowned when I saw the picture of Giovanni’s car, and Mattia standing in what looked like the inside of his parking, his back to the car as he smoked a cigarette “he’s an Alpha, Alpha Nicolas to be more specific, and I don’t know why, but I have reason to believe

Before long, visitors began approaching Campbell to talk about his artwork, while others welcomed Hickey and his group. It took some time for Granger and Thorne to approach Campbell because there were so many people present. Campbell accepted their gift and remarked, "That's very thoughtful of you." He laughed as he looked at Thorne, Granger, and Dalton. "It's been a few years; however, you young people appear more astute than before. Excellent work. While Campbell engaged in conversation with Thorne and his companions, Hickey made his way through the throng, extending greetings to other visitors before progressively approaching Charlene and Stewart.

And somewhere deep inside the shadows, even Dorian smiled. Not because he’d won. But because flame had returned Not as war. But as grace.

I get my phone and type the anonymous message with steady fingers: The bed of another man has been warmed by your beloved mistress. Just thought you might want to know. I hesitate just for a moment before sending. Let the games get underway. Two hours later, I'm seated in my car next to the upscale café Bianca, the so-called sister, enjoys spending her afternoons in. Already there, waiting for someone, She's seated at a corner table in an elegant red dress, her long legs crossed as she drinks a martini. She's confident. Smug. She feels she’s made it big. I laughed. Not especially long. From where I stand, I can see the small camera I set in the potted plants yesterday by the café door. It wi