Atlantis Rourke Novels & Stories

Its Rowena, I don’t think a princess is ever going to be a sacrifice. Silence followed after I had said that,but I felt his tension ease. I looked at him in a way he wouldn’t know, I wanted to take all his features, his looks and the way he looked at me when I wasn’t starring. Why do they call you the rogue Alpha , I found myself asking. When I asked that question it seemed to get his attention because he looked at me. I don’t go with their rules princess and I don’t worship their stupid moon goddess who abandoned my people when your people turned against us or because I protected my people with my own power.

He's one of them- a rogue. I then looked at him by the eye, those deep eyes that are deeper than the ocean that's as if telling me something. My eyes never left his for I seem to be magnetized by his stares and I just want the sensation that it's giving me. I'm getting addicted to this sensation to the point that my eyes can't leave his. His eyes are two-colored. Grey and green. It is the only eyes that managed to catch my attention somehow and now I'm drowning in them but I still want to explore more of how far his eyes can bring me and how magical they can be.

"That guy you see is the former Alpha of the Crescent Pack. His name is Atlas and although he seems to be normal, that man is a half vampire. He started to lose control of his powers and killed many people which is why he was being punished by the Moon Goddess. He left his pack along with his loyal supporters. And as you see, he is the one who is going to take care of her. The one who is going to replace you in Rhea's life. The one who is going to train her on how to become strong." I turned around and I saw the man with a crooked face. I knitted my forehead in anger. "What the fuck are you doing in here again? Can you please disappear and let me focus on watching it? I seriously hate being

"Ms. Thorne. Mr. Rourke is ready." ​The Alpha King’s office was breathtaking, a sprawling panorama of the entire city laid out like a strategic map. The back wall was a continuous pane of glass, making Damon Rourke appear to float above the world, an undisputed sovereign. He was seated behind a ridiculously large, obsidian desk, his posture relaxed, yet radiating an energy that made the air feel thin. His suit was dark, perfectly tailored, and his deep jet-black hair was slicked back.

I just needed three more. I sank into the chair, my head in my hands. Rourke—Alpha of the Silvertongue Pack—was the first. I’d nabbed him from that festival preparation, slipped a sedative into his drink while Damien and Olivia argued in the crowd. He’d gone down easy, and I’d hauled him out in the chaos of the lycan attack I’d staged as a distraction. A hired rogue, paid to stir panic and vanish. Rourke was perfect—a current alpha, strong and proud. His blood would be the cornerstone.

Water bucket hovered, dripping prelude to hell. Kenji stood predator still, porcelain sleeves rolled to elbows exposing a dragon tattoo coiled taut, obsidian eyes locked on the traitor with surgical calm. No suit now—just a black shirt clinging to lethal lines, katana sheathed at hip, unnecessary. His hand gripped the hose steadily, accenting gravel-velvet lethal. "OmegaTech. Names. Amounts. Or we continue." Rourke spat blood-flecked defiance, broken nose swelling purple. "Fuck your empire, Sato. Go to hell."

It belonged to another life, a few hours distant, unreachable now. A soft knock at her private door—not the main entrance, but the servants’ passage. Her heart lurched. She opened it. Kaelan stood in the narrow corridor, his face smudged with grime, his eyes hollow. He stepped inside without speaking, and she closed the door behind him. “Rourke?” she asked. “Gone. The originals are with Varyn. He has everything.” The words landed like stones in still water, the ripples spreading outward, unstoppable. Althea sat heavily on the edge of her bed, the weight of the night finally crushing her spine into a curve.

he said, not quite a question. "By making me look incompetent enough to be cast aside." Natasha's voice held no self-pity, only cold analysis. "Slow, patient sabotage. No bloodshed. Nothing that could be traced back to her if the pieces were examined separately. She has been planning this since the moment you brought me here." Damien's hand closed over hers on the table. "And she failed." The door opened before Natasha could answer. Rourke entered first, his grey-streaked hair disheveled, a heavy cloak thrown over his sleeping tunic. His eyes were alert despite the hour, sharp as flint.

Luna Katerina read the paper a few times before glaring at her mother who looked down at her feet “who left this?” “He gave me the choice years ago, and I chose to leave, pretending that you died…” “I asked a bloody question” Luna Katerina asked, growing protective. “His name is Domenico Mancini, the last of the Lycan elders” Alpha Anthony said, sensing the tension in the air “and he wants you dead, Katerina…”

He wouldn't have trouble understanding the intricate relationships at play here. When Noah and Arthur raised their glasses, Atlas took me away, whispering softly, "Mr. Noah’s full name is Noah Kent. He's the newly appointed head of Bourdamun and is trying to establish himself. So, don't worry and wait for him to approach you. From there, the conversation will flow naturally." I looked at Atlas, a hint of concern in my eyes, and asked, "We won’t mess it up, right?” Atlas glanced at me sideways and asked, "You have that little faith in me?"