Audiobook The Picture Of Dorian Gray นิยาย & เรื่องราว

To give her this. She glanced across the dim space. Dorian stood shirtless at the window, back turned, muscles taut with something more than exhaustion. Rage? Guilt? She couldn’t tell anymore. “You haven’t said anything,” she whispered. He didn’t move. She stood. “Dorian.” “I’m thinking,” he said without turning. “No,” she said quietly. “You’re disappearing.” He exhaled hard through his nose, then turned toward her. His eyes were dark. “Do you understand what this book is, Isolde? There are names in here that would start wars. Names that would end us.”

"Have you read these books? I mean, have you read every page of each one?" "No, although I have learned quite a bit from it." The two men widen their eyes. "But what's going on anyway? Why are they reacting this way?" They both go into a deep silence, thinking about the best way to start the subject. The dark-haired demon points with his finger to the black-covered book. "That is a Grimoire of Dark Magics. You probably used some spell from here to summon me." Then he points to the other volume, the gray-covered one.

she answered in a small voice, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. When he was done, Grayson set the ointment aside but didn’t move away. He leaned back slightly, his arm resting on the pillow beside her as his eyes lingered on her. “What are you reading?” Aurora blinked, startled by the sudden question. Her fingers curled around the edge of the book. “Oh… um, just something about artistry.” Grayson’s gaze slid down to the book on her lap. He didn’t miss the way her cheeks flushed under his scrutiny.

Dorian chuckled, staring into Elika’s eyes. The princess stared back into the feral man’s deep yellow eyes, her breath catching slightly as she spoke; the demonic eyes seeming to penetrate her soul. “Sometimes ... But it was mostly to the library or woods...” Dorian nodded, glancing away from the princess; before snapping his head back towards her as he began to speak, his tone coated with interest. “So, you are interested in books, little girl?” Elika forced a small smile, tugging at the leather collar as it once again began to dig into the side of her neck; irritating the princess. “Yes...”

He can't sleep at all and is not planning to drug himself to sleep like Renata and Alexa did. The library was thick with old mahogany and shelves full of well-worn books long held in high esteem. He traversed between the bookcases that looked like they could have reached to touch the azure ceiling. In spotting a volume, the sound of somebody’s presence startled Dionysus. There, standing tall with his blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, was Gilbert Gardier. He was every inch the lord of a library, self-possessed but authoritative, standing tall in posture with the book clasped before him and his reading glasses.

Dorian teased, his voice dropping as he tilted her chin up. ​"Maybe," she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips. ​Dorian leaned back in, his eyes locked onto hers. Their lips were just inches apart when the light in the living room vanished, sucked out by a sudden, unnatural dark. ​A blinding flare of shadowy black light erupted in the center of the room. The temperature plummeted instantly, turning their breath to thick plumes of frost. From the center of the dark light, a towering, faceless figure stepped onto the hardwood floor.

“Summarize the central conflict in three sentences. No more.” Lennon’s brain scrambled. He’d read the book twice this weekend, mostly to distract himself from thinking about this exact moment. “Dorian Gray is granted eternal youth while his portrait ages and bears the marks of his sins. He descends into moral corruption, indulging every vice without consequence to his appearance. The tension lies in whether he can escape the consequences of his actions or if the portrait will ultimately destroy him.” Damien nodded once. “Adequate. Now tell me why Wilde makes the portrait the repository of sin instead of Dorian’s body.”

{Elara’s POV} I stared at the photo a little longer before carefully placing it back inside the book and setting it on the table. I laid back on the bed and thought about the wide smile Dorian had in the photo. He looked like a completely different person. That photo was probably only a few years old, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were still friends, or what might have happened to make Dorian so cold and controlling. Either way, I wouldn’t get the answers by thinking about it, so I closed my eyes and went to sleep.