Alastor Shirtless Novels & Stories

“I’ll probably stand on my own feet, even. I’m a dance floor hazard.” “No, I mean, only one of us needs to know the steps. You can stand on my feet,” Alastaire says, pointing down at his feet, clad in roman style gladiator leather sandals, which I assume is to match the white toga-ish thing he has going on with the angel costume. “Trust me,” he says. “Hitch a ride. It’ll be fun.”

I couldn't help but notice his deviance as soon as the door opened. “He's still wearing a mask?! Aish,” I grumbled to myself. I hovered over his posture once more, almost spitting at what I saw. Despite the fact that he was wearing a mask, this one was undeniably stylish. He's tall and muscular, with white skin and a beautiful face. Oh, my majesty! His long eyelashes, his deep blue orbs, then any woman who looks will surely shed panty in grace. That appears to be pulling and has the potential to drown someone simply by looking into his eyes. “Mate,” we both mumbled, causing everyone in the room to gasp.

I would rather lift my dress and dance bare-skinned in front of the High Council Judgment Hall on a sacred Sunday while howling a rogue war song. I shoot a panicked look at Lestat, then glance back at the heavy wooden door. Creepier is definitely still out on the stone path searching for my scent. Creepy could be circling the block right now. Worse yet, Tristan could be running toward this very building with a pack of warriors to force my mark onto the license. But can I really ask a High Alpha to go along with this madness? He might just push me away— "No," Lestat growls softly to the woman, his voice thick with the poison.

--Alyssa-- The Alpha King stood there shirtless, his chiseled muscles glistening under the soft glow of the room’s lighting. I stood just a few feet away, clutching my towel tightly, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of modesty. His gaze roamed over my body, making me feel exposed and vulnerable.

Our laughter echoed through the hallway as we dashed up, our footsteps in a chaotic, joyful race. Upstairs, I flung open the closet doors, letting my fingers trail over the fabrics. Finally, I pulled out a sleek black shirt and matched it with a pair of fitted tank tops. I loved the subtle allure of black—it was both bold and mysterious, much like the man standing behind me. I caught Alessio’s reflection in the mirror as he rummaged through his side of the wardrobe, eventually pulling out a casual yet undeniably expensive outfit, a perfectly tailored knit Versace polo that highlighted his broad shoulders. That man had a knack for looking effortlessly sophisticated.

“I never had the chance to give it to you. Since you already see it, then take it." Alessia suddenly turned around and was once again surprised when she saw a shirtless Alby with a small towel draped around the man's neck. Alessia gulped nervously as Alby drew closer to her, Alessia even clearly felt her heart beating. "Your face is red, Ale," said Alby, causing Alessia to look away and clear her throat. "Why aren't you wearing clothes?" Alby grinned mischievously. "Why? Are you nervous Miss Alessia?" Alby asked on purpose

As I begin to examine them, I hear the door creak shut behind me. When I turn back, I find Alpha Aleksandr unbuttoning his shirt, the veins on his muscular hands flexing as he undoes the last button. His eyes lock onto mine as he slips the shirt off, revealing his chiseled torso. His broad shoulders and chest, defined abs, powerful upper arms, and slightly hairy forearms create a striking image, with the prominent V-line catching my eye, as it always does. My throat feels dry as Alpha Aleksandr continues to undress.

Because my siblings are really the ones on the cover of the magazine! Alaric is wearing a maroon polo and black slacks. And don't forget that the polo he's wearing is unbuttoned although out, revealing his 6-pack abs! Audra, on the other hand, had her hair loose while wearing a black fitted turtleneck and black wide leg pants.

But everything happened so fast after that. My body emitted a light, and it came from my stomach. The white mist enveloped me as his hand halted precisely at my chest. I felt his claws pierce my skin, but he didn’t go further, as if he were frozen or he had chosen not to go through with it. “No!” he hissed. Alastor’s black eyes widened as he threw his body back and landed on his ass. I still couldn’t move, but I could see him inching backward, his claws gripping the earth, and his expression was far from surprised — he was terrified.

Amelia barks at the caretakers. Two girls run past me. They look in my closet. They come back holding the big white shirt from last night. "What is this man's cloth?" Amelia shakes the shirt in my face. "I found it at the Mooncrest Artisan Guild," I say. I try to sound brave. If they find out about the stranger, the Lycan Bloodmoon Pack will hurt my mother, Elena Corvinus. I do not care about my bad father, but my mother is sweet. Amelia looks at the gold letter L on the neck of the shirt. It looks very rich. Her face turns red like fire. She jumps up and hits my cheek with her hand.