Arno Dorian Mga Nobela at Kwento

The door loomed in front of her like a barrier, its imposing presence seemingly trapping her in a daze of uncertainty. As she opened the door, she was greeted by the sight of Arnou standing behind his desk. Before she could utter a word, he crossed the distance between them in a single stride, slamming her against the wall. Daciana's breath caught in her throat at his sudden aggression, and his voice, low and filled with anger, echoed in her ear. "You had no right to ask for an abortion, Daciana," Arnou growled, his eyes burning with fury. "You belong to me. Our child belongs to me. You should have considered my feelings before making such a decision."

“I believe we can create a better game, Dorian.” Dorian’s playful smile grew, revealing his blackened teeth. He took a step towards Darkous, his back slightly crooked as he stood over an inch smaller. Dorian had been abandoned as a child, leaving him alone in a vast wilderness on an uncharted dimension. The immortal had spent over a hundred years in solitude, living amongst the beasts of the realm. Darkous had found him on a scouting mission, instantly becoming friends with the feral immortal. Although Dorian had been in hell for over a century he remained feral, relying on his animalistic traits. Dorian had gone insane, slowly losing his mind. And yet, his knowledge was vast; matching his b

I don’t know what to think about how she perked up with Dorian was around. “Dorian is the second born prince. He’s known as the Warrior Prince, since he’s the leader of the army. His love life has always been secretive, but most speculate that he isn’t with anyone serious. He’s known to be generous. I think it’s amazing he wants to help.”

Beside herself, Sigfri pressed her thighs against his sides and dug her nails into Dorian’s shoulders, refusing to let go, prepared to ride him until exhaustion consumed them both. But then, Astaroth—fully inhabiting the muscle and fiber of Dorian Thorne—decided the game was over. With a burst of inhuman strength, he grabbed her by the hips and flipped her onto the rug. In an act of absolute and inexplicable dominance, Dorian spilled across her face—a mark of possession and contempt that left Sigfri frozen, her eyes wide beneath the traces of his climax. Dorian leaned over her, his husky voice making her shudder.

Another corrupted celestial flew down—this one wielding two blades, both dripping dark flame. Dorian’s eyes widened. “Reniel.” The corrupted angel shrieked, diving straight for him. Dorian barely dodged the first strike. The second grazed his cheek, slicing deep enough to draw blood. “You never could aim,” Dorian spat, fire glowing in his palms. Reniel roared. “Come on,” Dorian growled. “Let’s finish what you started.” He sent a wave of black-blue fire crashing into Reniel. The corrupted celestial staggered, wings cracking.

“She was perfect. A true gem that would answer your every beck and call.” “I saw her,” Dorian replied. “I was unimpressed.” All of the gems were the same: blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. It grew tiring watching the same sort of woman be presented to him, which was why he ignored his father’s prospect and had snuck outside to smoke a cigarette, where he stumbled across a true gem. “Come here, pet,” Soren ordered. Aria slowly walked across the room to stand next to Dorian, keeping her head bowed and awaiting further instruction.

Bodies littered the floor wolves, warriors, women. Dorian knelt at the center. Broken. Bleeding. His hands were covered in red, and his eyes gods, his eyes were vacant. Hollow. He was whispering something over and over again. Her name. Just her name. And then a shadow stepped beside him. A figure of smoke, crowned in horns, eyes like dying stars. Tharion. He placed a hand on Dorian's shoulder like a father comforting a grieving son. And Dorian wept. "NO!" Seraphina screamed, jolting awake.

Everyone knew how powerful the lord of the northwest was, so no one would dare insult even their lowest vassals. “Arkin? I thought I heard your voice, so it was really you.” A familiar high-pitched voice butted in. She gracefully walked towards Dio’s direction and clung to his arms. “I never thought that you’d make a scene right after arriving here in the capital, ARKIN,” Amery said louder, emphasizing his name. “A-arkin?” The man’s eyes grew wide as he covered his mouth. “Are you perhaps a Romanov?” Dio ignored the man and faced Amery instead. “I guess I need to tell my lady that I already threw away my first name. From today onwards, I am Dio Armani, the third son of the Armani Merchant Gu

I spun on my heels to get a look at the source of the voice "You were thinking out loud." "I spent over a thousand hours on that painting." The voice continued "E.A.D?" The words left my lips as I stared at the letters at the bottom of the painting "It's an acronym for Eugene Ari Darian." "Greek?" I scoffed, genuinely amused "A greek god actually," he corrected, arrogance clear in his tone with his head held up high "You are arrogant, you know that right?" I asked, not the least bit impressed "Okay, I'm sorry if I've been rude." His attempt at an apology was weak-hearted, he didn't mean it and I could sense it

She was afraid that he was a bad person who wanted to kidnap her because of her stepfather's status as a very dangerous military chief. But Diana's wild thoughts disappeared when the man introduced himself.... "I'm Darren, that's my name." Darren? Annabelle's friend? Diana had never known. "I'm the boy who caught you crying in the restroom when your mom scolded you," he said again. Dana immediately shut her mouth. She finally remembered! Darren, the son of Alpha Adam who currently leads Pack Kyne. Diana still didn't think they would meet again. Especially after not meeting for a long time, she didn't recognize his face.