Novel & Cerita Ark Dossier Book

“Thank you. He didn’t touch it immediately. He just watched me, then finally nodded once. I took the dossier, turned and walked out of the hut. The air outside felt sharper. Clearer. I got into my car and started the engine. This time, I turned toward home. The drive back felt shorter. Not because of the distance but because my thoughts were moving faster now. Everything was connecting. The attack. The timing. The dossier. Alpha of Bloodfang. Damian. A quiet breath left me. They had been right there. Right inside. Working under everyone’s noses. A faint, disbelieving huff escaped me. “Incredible…” I shook my head slightly. Not in denial but in disbelief of the boldness. The precision.

Beneath it: a narrow stairwell descending into pitch black. “No cameras,” Dorian murmured. “Perfect.” The air turned colder as they descended. At the base of the stairwell, a small metal door waited. Isolde slid in the key. Click. The door creaked open, revealing a room no bigger than a dressing closet dusty and silent. Inside: a wooden trunk, and beside it, a thick folder stamped with an unfamiliar crest. Dorian lifted the folder. “The Black Ledger,” he read aloud. Inside: lists of names, dates, payments, performances. Vivienne’s name appeared repeatedly under aliases. Alongside her, others.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter. I don’t need you tattle-telling everything I do and reporting it back to your mommy. I get the fucking job done dont I? Exactly. I got something for you to go back and tell Abbaddon, how about FUCK YOU!!” “Do you feel better now? Cause we have a job to do.” Ornais stated. “They’re moving quickly to capture this soul from you.” “I know, but what am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can just go in and char it beyond repair like every other one. I have to be careful.” Daniel sighed, putting his head in his hands. He was up against a wall. Every move was documented and reported back to Abaddon. The Seven Deadly Sins had this one, why did he get assigned to it

Ava's POV: I picked out a thick leather bound book from the shelf. Its black rough surface was covered with dust. Wiping it with my palm, I looked at the title. Senex Animarum. Once again, I felt the frustration gripping my insides. Every single book in this place was filled with a language I didn't know. I should've taken French this semester. But this language looked nowhere near French. I opened the book and looked at the worn out dust-filled pages. There were diagrams. And foreign words.

"Well, keep an eye on him. They haven’t made a move against us. It’s been a year since the last attack on one of our kind." I nod, but I can't shake the feeling that something big is coming. Something I’m not prepared for. "So, did you get the information I asked for last night?" I ask, glancing at him. He nods and slaps a vanilla folder down on the table. I grab it, flipping through the pages quickly. Each one makes my blood run cold. The more I read, the more furious I become. "Are you sure this is concrete, Dylan?" I ask, disbelief creeping into my voice.

I commented, taking a seat on the only chair, breathing in the peace that surrounded me now. The first book on top of the pile had it’s name carved on the leather cover, painted with gold and designed with small gems that shines when the light hits them. At first, I found it hard to read the letter but the more I stare at them, the more I seem to get it. It reads, “The Helsings: Protector of the Kingdom of Doria…” I opened the book, and oh, it was empty. Empty. Like really empty! Confused, I began flipping the pages only to find nothing but an empty pages, a thick empty book.

Marcus stood in front of the main screen, the decrypted contents of the drive splashed in front of them like the blueprints of war. Amelia leaned in. “What am I looking at?” “Names,” Marcus said. “Lots of them. Offshore account numbers. More than seventy shell companies are tied to Christian. But that’s not the most interesting part.” He clicked, and a new file opened. A digital dossier. Titled simply: A. Black Adrian’s brows drew together. “What the hell?” Amelia stepped closer as Marcus scrolled. Surveillance photos. Bank records. Childhood details. Contracts. Voice transcriptions. Psychological assessments. It was like watching someone dissect Adrian's entire life with surgical precision.

Not just for my freedom, but for my own survival. But before I could put my plan into action, the next day came and Dorian returned. He opened the door and stood in the doorway. Something was profoundly wrong. In one hand, he held my book of witchcraft. In the other, the voodoo doll I had used to enchant him… And at his waist, a gun I had never seen before. “I read your book,” he said, his voice strangely calm, without the usual anger. “Every page. Every spell, every ritual.”

His presence filled the room so completely it almost stole the air from my lungs. “Hello?” That voice again. Deep. Calm. Dangerous. My attention dropped to the painting in my hands. “Hello… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch your things.” His jacket came off slowly, leaving only the fitted black shirt underneath. Big mistake looking. The fabric hugged his chest perfectly. His waist. His arms. God. “It’s fine, my daughter.” My daughter. That word did something awful to me. Something I didn’t wanna think about too hard.