Bald Alastor Novels & Stories

They made their way to us and sat down beside me. At two minutes the pack house doors swung open again for the second time revealing four large men who were to ensure it was an honorable fight. The two taller, larger men were Alphas, but the tallest of them had a stern look on his face. Scars littered down his back on plain display. Muscles hard from years of training. He stepped to the middle of the ring and addressed the crowd directly.

“No, you are not crazy,” Alastor said about to take a step forward towards her but seeing the expression of wonderment, confusion and wariness on her face, he sighed and stayed put, “Please brace yourself for what you are going to see next.” He said and then taking a deep breath in he closed his eyes and opened it again when Vevina saw that they were once again pitch black. She wanted to ask what was the trick that he was using to do it when she saw that Alastor’s hands that had been hanging on both his sides slowly started shaking. The nails elongated along with the fingers as hair sprouted out covering his wrist and the rest of it slowly started looking more and more like that of a beast’s

"I want to introduce you." Keeping the grin plastered on my face, I stepped out of the car and walked over to Ash and the warrior wolf. "Hello," I said, pretending that I wasn't nervous. Ash wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me next to him. "This is Nala Wallace, my fiancée," Ash gestured at me, and all the surrounding wolves who stayed in their beast form prowled closer, looking at me warily. "Nala," Ash continued, pointing at the man standing in front of us. "This is Baltazar Canto, the Alpha of the Mystic Shades Pack. He's the leader of one of the oldest packs in the Dark Realm, and currently, the last pack remaining loyal to the Malachious family."

Even though it's not possible, the hope of Alastor turning good depends on his death, he'll only be harmless when he's dead. Cruel, isn't it? I thought so too. My mother, father and now twin brother are all devils with ugly horns beneath their veils, scary shit. I twisted the doorknob to his room and walked in, trying to make no noise which I was successful in, regardless of how quiet I was, Alastor's eyes snapped open before I took one foot closer. At first, he looked as if he was going to kill me, I guess that was instinct; making my heart snap into two in shock and then his eyes softened.

“You are so subtle.” “I know,” I offered him before his lips met mine. He tasted like sweat and honey. I pulled him closer to me, attempting to topple him into the tub with me. “You can just ask, you know.” Alastor stood back up leaving me to watch him. He gripped the back of his shirt with one hand and tore it off over his head. His muscles slightly rolled and flexed with every moment. His body was speckled with scars, which I found so sexy. He rolled down his shorts and underwear at the same time. His delicious colossal cock sprung free. His whole body shimmered in faint sweat, it made my mouth water.

“It’s not my fault if my body doesn’t want to! But I can assure you, my head and heart are in this. Untie me. I won’t run away or do anything.” “Shut up and just do as you are told.” Agatha hissed. “Now take her out of here!” “So this is just my fucking role here, to check if someone is lying.” Alastor scoffed in a loud voice while the witches were taking me off the pole and tying my hands again. I was calling on my spirits to tell me what to do next, but they were not saying anything. And with Alastor capable of appearing and disappearing around me, I had no way to get away from him. He could just snap my neck in an instant if he wanted to.

A chill raced down his spine. The soft sunlight slipped through a half-closed window, catching the cold gleam of the man they called Italy’s nightmare—Alastor Merikh Drystan. The Sovereign. The number one killer. Only thirty, yet feared like a god. At twelve, he was already drawn to business—and blood. Passion lived in both. Drenched in shadows, Drystan reclined on a chair, legs crossed, a cigarette between his fingers. Smoke curled upward, but his eyes stayed fixed elsewhere—burning with calm, deadly intent.

I was looking for him, but I was not the only one. A presence shifted behind me. I did not turn immediately. There was no need. “You think too loudly,” a familiar voice said. I exhaled slowly. “You always appear where you are not welcome.” Alastor stepped into view with his usual calm, the kind that came from knowing most people could not touch him even if they tried. Apostle of Ra. Exiled on paper, tolerated in practice. “That is an interesting complaint,” he replied. “Coming from a man who treats contracts like loose guidelines.”

“I deserved a mother.” The sentence cut through the trees like steel. Elira closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she looked older. “I cannot repair what I abandoned,” she said. “I can only tell you what comes.” She placed the black chain on the ruined stone between them. “Alaric means to deliver you to the thing he fears. If he cannot control you, he will trade you.” Lydia felt sick. Trade him. The way she had been traded. The pattern of power was always the same.

My pulse sped up and I felt my body tensing up again. I was going to escape from my father and Luca. The bus I was in flipped over and I probably hit my head hard enough that it made me pass out. Goddess knows how long later, I was in a strange vehicle, surrounded by a bunch of wolves in whose presence I have never been before... and Thomas. To complete the shit-show, one of them was asking where I was. Even though I was right beside him. 'Shit, Venus. I think he is one of Luca's man. Probably a dumb one too. How the hell does he not know what his boss' fiancee looks like? I gotta get out of here before they take me back home or worse... To the Howlers Pack.' I could feel Venus in denial abo