Ancient Vampire Harry Potter Fanfiction Twilight Novels & Stories

His voice is all smooth suggestion. I play along. Fluttering my lashes, I slip my palms onto his chest. I glance at him innocently. “Ooh, like binge-watch the entire Twilight saga? I’ve been dying to reanalyze Edward’s brooding. Maybe we can compare it against Jackson’s.” He stares at me, betrayed. “That’s not what I meant.” I grin. “Oh? Not? Okay … we can throw in some Vampire Diaries, if that’s what you want. Make it a whole undead night.”

She was an extremely ticklish person. He turned her to face him and gave her a long hard kiss before pulling the blanket over them. *** Down below in the dining hall, Vlad, Hans and Thomas were sharing a bottle of Pinot Noir. Thomas had officially become Vlad’s number one fan after he found out that Vlad had been the inspiration for Bram Stoker’s Dracula. “What about Twilight? What do you think of it?” he asked, slightly tipsy from all the wine.

And I decided to change, to stop the drug lifestyle I had started and to take my life back. I opened a bookstore, which is doing quite well, I even have an assistant. It was much later that I learned who this mysterious man was. Calvin Lloyd, the alpha of the Twilight Pack. He had given me a mischievous look before holding out his hand, eyes as blue as the sky, he must have been twenty-eight years old. It was his hand that he had caressed his sex, I think I blushed when I recognized it. I didn't grab his hand and for three years now we've been fighting a cold war, me to hide the attraction I have for him, and him because he's a big jerk and nothing else. I wonder if he knows it was me that d

Together, they came up with additional methods to obtain the blood they required, including the Red Cross, campus blood drives, and, where necessary, robbing a hospital's blood bank. Zachary's wife of almost forty years, Sarah, was a true free spirit. Her native to this country, bronzed skin was enhanced by her long, black hair that hung past her waist. Her eyes were still the original black color of a human; the silver of aging had not yet supplanted it. She was a newborn vampire.

he said and he winked at me. After Dracula, we watched Twilight where Jane threw another enormous amount of jokes around, mostly about sparkly stuff, mind reading and predicting the future and after we put on Underworld. “I'm going to be like Selene with my ex-boyfriend when I see him. Oh, and actually also your ex-boyfriend Tris,“ Jane said, nudging me in the shoulder. I turned to her with wide eyes. “We're sharing the same ex-boyfriend,“ I said with a shocked expression. “Enough about ex-boyfriends,“ Damon snapped. Jane rolled her eyes at me and focused on the tv again.

It was an exquisite torment, a dance of surrender and yearning. The vampire's fangs, unveiled like secrets shared between lovers, gently pierced her supple flesh. A sigh, laden with pleasure rather than pain, escaped Amira's lips, as if embracing a hidden union that bridged the realms of darkness and desire. It was a union forged in the alchemy of their souls. With each languid pull, the vampire savored the intoxicating elixir that flowed forth, mingling his immortal essence with her vibrant life force. The exchange was not solely sustenance but an enchanting pas de deux, a symphony of passion interwoven within their intertwined destinies.

Jones and Esther were easy prey. A sudden movement in her looking glass catches the witch's attention. Selene is grabbing the vampire's arm when Jones whirls her around and throws her against the wall. The doubt spell immediately from Esther as the horrified faerie runs to the unconscious hybrid. The vampire is just as horrified at his actions, but the darkness inside him remains. Pity that Esther is stronger than Cleo's magic, but Jones's inability to get past his pride could work in Cleo's favor! The vampire's doubt increases his failure to be a perfect mate, and the hate inside him grows. Cleo waves her hand, and the image of the distraught group disappears and is replaced by a haggard El

The secretary hesitates, but in a matter of seconds of glaring at her, she’s forced to step away, leaving me alone. With a swift, practiced motion, I pull out the vial from my bag and uncork it, a scent of heady sweetness filling the air. The potion is made out of a forbidden masterpiece created by the werewolf-witch hybrids of ancient times, a union of desire and darkness that pulses with a life of its own. I tilt the vial over one of the coffee cups, a single drop falling like a drop of starlight into the dark abyss. "He will be mine," I whisper to myself, my voice screaming with determination and anticipation. "Body and soul."

Alpha Kayden - POV The autopsy report Harris brought in arrived late, and I read through it in the library while he called someone to fix the shattered window. The findings were disturbing: Raven was indeed a werewolf, but her heart contained a dark core—an intensity unlike anything we’d seen before. It was similar to the aura we found in the abandoned Night Angel pack building, yet this one was stronger, darker. The report went on to say that Raven’s transformation began in childhood, fueled by an herb called Henbane, a plant that only grows in the desolate lands. Henbane, they said, hadn’t been active for decades, not since Raven was imprisoned. I set the report aside, my thoughts swirling

They hissed when they hit stone, spreading like liquid starlight. Thorne watched me like I was the only real thing in his very long life. “Your turn,” I whispered. He didn’t hesitate. He sliced his own palm (black vampire blood, thick as midnight). Three drops. They met mine in the center of the sigil. The reaction was instant. Fire and shadow exploded upward in twin spirals, wrapping around each other, braiding, tighter, hotter, until they fused into a single column of white-gold light that punched straight through the open ceiling and into the sky.