Ark Dossier Book Novels & Stories

Valerio muttered. They pulled it open and descended into darkness. The air turned metallic, earthy with decay and mold. Shelves lined the walls, filled with file boxes, ledgers, and stacks of cash bundled in plastic. Sera flicked on her flashlight. “Holy hell.” “This is her vault of sins,” Valerio said, his voice thick. “Paper trails of every deal, every name, every betrayal.” Sera pulled out a thick ledger labeled V. Blackwood. Valerio's breath caught. “She documented everything.”

The runes ignited, one by one, in violet fire. The air thickened. Wind howled. The soil trembled beneath their feet. And then—the altar cracked open. A blinding surge of light shot upward, tearing through the mist. The ground split, and a small obsidian chest rose from within, glowing faintly red. Inside lay a single black-bound book wrapped in silver chains—the Book of the Damned. Kael stepped forward slowly. “After all this time…” He reached toward it— —and the forest screamed. A flare of silver light cut through the trees as figures emerged from the mist—The Order. Dozens of cloaked hunters, blades drawn, crossbows gleaming with runes.

She wandered in and lit a lamp, which illuminated almost the entire space. "Huh? He's been a part of the mafia all his life and leads a ruthless gang. What could I possibly learn about him through old books? And to top it all off, why would I want to understand him? He kidnapped me, Isabella." "To understand Darick, you need to understand how his mind thinks. Here." She handed me a book with torn and withered pages. I opened the book cover and couldn't tell if the writing style inside was medieval or gothic. I didn't even know if the two were the same.

So much more important than thread and stuffing and glass eyes, wrapped in a half-torn dress. I still feel bad about that doll. The one I saved from a hooker name. A doll I carried around with me for years, and now remember only in flashes. Bare, bright impressions, like seeing something through burned retinas. Seared over everything in a glowing silhouette. The same as Loki. I barely met Loki, but when I remember him it’s with a sick stirring so deep and violent it’s like there’s a clawed hand rammed down my throat. Churning my guts around. Turning my insides into so much fine flesh confetti.

he said. "Sit down, Damien." He sat. I turned the laptop to face him. The dossier was complete — every debt, the three failed development deals, the rogue faction contacts, the shell companies, the property filing on Riley's shop, the wire transfer from Elder Reth's intermediary. Forty-seven pages of documentation that Grayson had assembled in seventy-two hours because Grayson is extraordinary at his job and because Damien Voss is not as careful as he thinks he is. I let him read the summary page. Watched his face go carefully neutral, which meant he was frightened.

Quickly, his eyes skim the first few lines below the name—ancient, devours without end, cannot be contained, bloodthirsty, dangerous— “What are you doing here?” Kieran snaps his head so fast at the sound of the voice to find Alpha Dagon; the man’s dark eyes flicker between Kieran’s face and the page of the book. He immediately walks over and slams it shut. He snatches it off the table and securely into his locker. Kieran raises a questioning brow. “What’s that?” Dagon waves his hand dismissively and sinks into his seat. “Nothing you should be concerned with. What are you doing here?”

HIS DARKEST SHADE BOOK-THREE ~Prologue~ “Even if you end up hating me for it.” His tone was vicious. “I might scare you,” he continued, his gaze roaming over her trembling form, “but they are far worse—formidable, vicious… and willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want.” He gestured toward her. “Including you.” “Never.” She shook her head, her voice trembling but firm. “I’m not scared of your words. You’re just trying to scare me so I’ll listen to you!”

Still, the way he said it, like the words made me feel small. “Tell me, Snow,” he pressed, voice dipping lower. “What kind of books do you read?” My stomach dropped and panic fluttered in my chest. If he knew, if he even suspected. The facade I’d built so carefully for my parents would crumble to dust. He couldn’t know that behind closed doors, I consumed more dark romance and filth than any good girl should. The sound of the front door swinging open snapped the moment in half. I blinked, tearing my gaze away just in time to see my dad stride in. Relief flooded me so fast my knees almost buckled.

Past memories taunted between us, flashes of the academy, of late nights in the library where he'd worked, of training sessions where he'd always been just a little too observant, a little too interested in my movements. "So the academy was a facade," I said, not quite making it a question. "You'd be right about that," Duke answered, clicking his tongue against the back of his mouth. And then, in a low voice that carried something genuine beneath the smugness, he told me, "It's good to see you, Jude." His eyes twinkled like he meant what he said and deep down, I knew he did. Duke, the librarian. The fucking librarian in a police academy was a Black Rose member. God, where didn't they reach?

Isabella gave him a sharp, commanding look, her hand resting lightly against his forearm, her grip tight and steady. Dante wrenched the heavy granite slab upward, revealing a deep, steel-lined rectangular vault built directly into the foundations of the church. Resting inside the dark recess, covered in a thin layer of grey stone dust, was a massive, leather-bound ledger with a heavy steel lock plate—the identical match to the book that had disappeared from the Rossi estate ten years ago. The blood ledger was open. The calculation was almost complete.