Arch Enemy Book Novels & Stories

Astrid Lancetii is known as a multi billionaire CEO in London. As a vampire who saw her mother destroyed by a blood-bond, Astrid’s life is governed by one rule: Never depend on a single source. She keeps her hunger satisfied through casual, fleeting encounters, ensuring no one ever gets close enough to own her. Until she picks the wrong man for a snack. William Winchester isn’t just another high-society playboy. He is the Alpha of the disgraced Winchester Pack, a man who has spent years in the shadows planning to reclaim the legacy Astrid’s father stole from him. After a night of calculated passion, William reveals his trap: a high-definition recording of Astrid’s true nature. With the

Our arms brushed lightly, and that small contact somehow grounded me in the middle of everything that was happening. Liam’s eyes moved slowly over me. His gaze traveled from my messy hair, down to the oversized T-shirt I was wearing, then to my bare legs before moving back up to my face again. His lips curved slightly, but it wasn’t a smile.It was something darker. Something angry.Before I could even react, he suddenly lunged forward, his shoulder slamming hard into Roman’s chest. Roman stumbled back a step, clearly surprised by the sudden movement, before he could even steady himself, Liam’s fist flew forward. The punch landed hard against his jaw with a sickening crack. Roman’s head snappe

The explosion shook the docks like an earthquake. Fire erupted behind the convoy. The first armored vehicle lifted off the ground before crashing onto its side. Metal screamed. Glass shattered. Smoke swallowed the night. "Ambush!" Marco shouted. "Take cover!" Gunfire erupted from every direction. Bullets tore through the warehouse walls. The enemy had never been inside. They had been waiting outside all along. Mark grabbed Moretti's collar, but the rival leader only smiled. "You were looking at the wrong building."

Amanda Grayson inherited all of her adoptive father’s millions once he disappeared in his private plane while flying over the Atlantic Ocean. Since then, she has devoted herself to business and expanding her father’s fortune. However, Andrés Grayson's legitimate son arrives to claim what rightfully belongs to him. Amanda won't allow an arrogant man to take away what she has worked hard for over the years, leading to an intense rivalry between them, to the point where the authorities have to intervene and make a deal: both must live together and work equally in Mr. Andrés's businesses, and whoever performs better will take it all. Amanda won't let herself be defeated, even if her enemy is an

Christy was quickly assisted into the car of the people who came to back them up, she was still in shock that she looks like a robot following their lead. She was shaking in fear as she realize she was caught up in the middle of a gunshot battle. When she realizes that she almost lost her life, she shivers again and again in fear, and she panics more. What has she gotten herself into by accepting to take over control of the company? Would this have happened to her if she has refused to take control? She didn't want to come back to M City in the first place, but her grandfather had insisted that he wanted her here to take over the arms of affairs over here in the company. Who would have suspe

Dangling with the necklace around her neck that had the letter 'A' as the pendant, "Wait," I mumbled, "What?" Alrick whispered, "I don't know how to you know... Shift, I usually have to get anger first," "Then get angry," "I can't just get angry—" "Think about someone you want to kill, that helps me," Closing my eyes I started to think about Valdomore and I felt bad because it's Alrick's dad. Feeling my canines brushing on my lips, I bit to girls' neck then I let her go, watching as her wheezing stops and turned into deep breaths, Alrick and I smiled at each other and we three became inseparable since.

Chapter 134 Rohan POV The first rule of war I ever learned was simple: when the enemy stops making noise, they are not retreating. They are repositioning. By the second morning after Amanda’s alignment surfaced, the silence had become unbearable. The political landscape held its breath in a way that made every instinct in me itch. This was not calm I had grown to understand. It was preparation. I had seen it before, back when conflict still came with banners and bloodshed. The quiet before the charge always felt heavier than the clash itself. Ella noticed it too.

Arcane energy surged from his fingertips, manifesting as explosions that scattered enemy ranks. Despite their formidable skills, the enemy proved to be a worthy adversary. They employed tactics that exploited weaknesses and disrupted the heroes' formations. Stealthy assassins struck from the shadows, while powerful sorcerers unleashed torrents of destructive magic. The clash of steel against steel, the crackling of flames, and the clash of elements reverberated through the city, each sound a reminder of the stakes at hand.

Maybe not even to myself. "Your family destroyed mine," I said instead. "This seems... poetic." She nodded slowly, like she'd expected that answer. "Three days, then." "Three days." She left, closing the door softly behind her. I stood there in the empty room, wondering what the hell I'd just agreed to. My phone buzzed, a text from Dec, Please tell me you didn't just do something monumentally stupid. I typed back, Define stupid. You know exactly what I mean. That was Elara Vance. VANCE. As in, your family's sworn enemy, as in, the granddaughter of the man who destroyed your grandfather.

They stepped inside. Raven’s sharp blue eyes scanned the spines—titles in languages older than Arcadia Prime, bindings of shadow-leather and bone. Victoria moved with purpose, fingers trailing over volumes until she stopped before a thick tome bound in matte black hide that drank the light rather than reflected it. Silver script crawled across the cover like living veins: *Intricate Military Command of the Dead* *Advanced Studies in the Art of Necromantic Warfare* Raven reached up—standing on tiptoe—and pulled it free. The weight surprised her; this was no slim intermediate text. This was dense, heavy with diagrams of battlefield sigils, troop formations of the risen, rites for coordinating