Arno Dorian Novels & Stories

she teased. “Good.” Jordan tilted her head, watching me too closely. “You sure you’re fine?” “Yeah.” I left before they could push more. The cabin was quiet. Too quiet. I stepped in, grateful for the silence, and then froze. The sound of water running. The bathroom door half open. And through the crack— I saw him. Father Dorian. Completely bare. Broad shoulders. Muscles carved from stone. Tattoos covering his arms, back, curling over his ribs. His hair damp, water sliding down his chest.

“It works exactly like mine. Did you get it from Elaria?” Dorian tilted his head slightly, his hood hiding most of his pale face. “Elaria? No. I bought it from a water sorcerer at Luminara Coast a few months ago. Young lad talked far too quickly for someone his age.” “A man?” I asked quickly. Dorian nodded once. “Yeah. Young sorcerer called Julian.” I let out a long breath. “Julian is Elaria’s younger brother. That explains why the weaving technique is identical.” Dorian merely hummed in response. The tension between us slowly eased, no longer as suffocating as it had been when I nearly strangled him in the pine forest.

Alpha Aleksandr of the Eastern Realm sat rigid beside him with rugged features, dark brown hair and amber eyes hard as flint with a pale scar nicking one brow as he tracked every move Orion made. At the far end of the table sat Chancellor Dawson, the lone human among Lycans. His thin fingers were clasped tightly together atop a stack of papers, his expression carefully composed. Yet, the faint tang of fear rolling off him was impossible to miss. Orion took his seat at the head of the table. "Let's begin." Caspian's smirk deepened. "You're late, Orion." Orion shot him a sidelong glance. "And yet, I'm still the one you waited for."

Farrah felt tickled so she burst out laughing. Ysa who's walking by saw this and felt so annoyed she huffed angrily, stomping on her feet. “Tsk!” Farrah laughed louder and felt triumphant. Farrah = 1, Ysa = -0. All her expressions fell on Dior's observant eyes. Dior looked at her with complicated emotions. Contrary to what Farrah was thinking, Dior can actually understand a lot of things at this moment. He understood that he had became a zombie, and Farrah sought him out in T City. He also remembered all the things that happened back in T City.

I couldn’t help but remember Donatello telling me that he believed that he saw him somewhere, and hearing what Sienna was telling me, I couldn’t help but believe that he was indeed using magic. Donatello was not the type to forget who a person was. If anything, he was almost always very accurate when it came to his memory of faces. It was one of the reasons why he was dangerous when angered. He was not a man to be messed with nor was he the type to allow random mistakes to just slide. If anything, he would be sure to make those who hurt him or his loved ones pay if he simply caught their scent.

It's telling me that there is something unusual about the auras these men emit. “ Yeah, it's her,” Santino voice is flat. He fixes me with a bored look. “ She must be brave if she thinks she can murder a dragon with a fork.” The rugged one laughs, and my eyes shoot back to him. He putts a large cigar to his lips, he takes a drag and the tip of glows orange as a thin plume of smock rises. He removes the cigar from his lips and puffs out some smock. The act makes him look so fucking sexy in all his muscle glory standing there.

Ronan said, his voice cold, merciless. Dorian’s lips curled into a twisted grin. “You think this is over? You think you’ve won?” He laughed, the sound low and menacing. “You have no idea what you’ve started. You’ve made enemies of the wrong people.” Ronan’s expression never wavered. “You should have stayed hidden, Dorian. Now you’ll pay for underestimating me.” With a single, swift motion, Ronan pulled the trigger. The world seemed to stand still as Dorian’s body slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Dana was a Lamberti, and my other three ‘best friends’ with their ‘busy lives’ abandoned me and never took the time to visit Siena. “You have one friend, and that friend has a black eye,” Dario spoke and showed himself. “Oh my god.” I gasped and ran towards him. “Who did this to you?” “It was that crazy baby daddy of yours, and it was all because I told you the truth about his assistant. Can you believe it?” Dario spoke before he took a look at my family. “I don’t think we’ve officially met yet, Dario Orlando.” He introduced himself with a bright smile on his face.

He said, pride evident in his tone. "Where? Where's he?" Giving him a sly smile, I turned around in search of this Don Raniero. "It's only you who wouldn't see him" He scoffed, signaling a waiter to come. She looked scared but at the same time, she was bold enough to put on a flirtatious smile at him. "Good day, Don Raniero." She placed down the menu on his table, pushing out her breast. Julian gave her a weird stare and then looked at me. I was holding back my laugh anyway so I looked away immediately so I wouldn't burst out into fits of laughter.

<< >> Dorian had taken the stairs two at a time, straightening his jacket as he reached the bottom, and pulled in a breath of clean morning air as he crossed into the living room. He was heading for the dining room when the front door opened behind him. He turned. Ronan was in the doorway and that was the most charitable way to describe what was happening. He wasn’t walking so much as he was a man being operated by a much smaller, significantly more exhausted man inside him. His jacket was wrinkled. His eyes were somewhere else entirely.