Beneath This Ink Book Novels & Stories

I only knew I woke up too late because the glaring sunlight was already piercing through the thin sheets of the curtains. “Good morning, dear.” Zed’s voice rang in my head, so I turned to glance at him. He was already sitting in an upright position, his back on the bedboard. A motivational book by Robert Kiyosaki was in his hand. “Good morning,” I replied, turning to my other side with eyes closed. The part of the bed on his side then sank, and I knew he was lying beside me. As soon as the movement steadied, I felt his mouth on my nape, running down my shoulders.

I was about to be in a room with three men. My hands shook as they walked in the living room. David entered first, then a taller, muscled man behind him. He had short dark hair, almost as short as a buzzcut, with these beautiful bright blue eyes. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and just his cut, no t-shirt on underneath, showing off the array of tattoos he had across his chest and down both arms. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you.” He said, “I’m Creek. I’m Ink’s VP.” David must have told them not to come close to me because Creek didn’t try to shake my hand, I felt a bit rude, but I was grateful for David for telling them.

“You’re here to cook, not to play detective.” But deep down, that little voice one that always got me in trouble — whispered Yeah, but don’t you want to know? Why does Domenico wear shades in the house? Why does Alessandro act like everyone is a threat? Why does this mansion feel like a golden cage? And why, oh why, does my bank account now have five figures sitting in it after just one day? I sighed again, pushing up to my feet. Lunch was done. Counters were clean.

Alex POV The fair was… for lack of better words loud. Louder than what I expected, everything was so fucking loud these days, my body has not felt like my own ever since I fought that mass of meat, I feel a buzzing under my skin like a thousand flies had laid eggs beneath my skin and they were ready to hatch. On some occasions the rare ones where I wasn’t driving I scratched the itch hard enough to draw blood, but instead of the flies, maggots and eggs I expect to fly out I was just met with a dark red and the sweet metallic scent of blood , the wound wouldn’t even

BENEATH THE FACADE Behind the façade of wealth and power, a web of secrets awaits. Chapter 34 Ethan’s POV: There was no light. No sun. No lamp. Not even the soft glow of a dream. Just darkness. Thick. Heavy. Endless. And yet... I was still here. Somewhere. Somehow.

He muttered as his hands started roaming her chest. “I still have to pack.” She rolled her sad eyes at him. “5 minutes then.” Without waiting for her to respond, he crushed their lips together and started kissing her… Fifteen minutes later, the family of five gathered in a detached, small house behind their main building. The boys and Ashley carried well-packed backpacks, and their mother carried a small beach bag that was bugling with god knows what. They quietly entered a room that looked like a library. Bernard pressed down on a pitch black, glossy looking book and a clunking sound filled the room. Gradually, one of the bookshelves started moving inward until a doorway appeared. Bernard p

Out in the heart of darkness he disposed of her body by the side for the death cart to collect during their nightly ventures and took the shortest path into the outskirts of the town, bypassing alleyways ridden with figures huddled in corners, peering out at him idly from malnourished skulls. The warm rain hit the sidewalk and steamed back up, forming little eddies of mist around Gerfast’s ankles. He felt the babe shift within his jacket, its little arms flailing and its mouth turning reflexively in search of a nipple. Steam boats hoot and trudge past through the black river all alight like little cities adrift.

He had said something about it being important and that she should read it, but at the time, she had been preoccupied with her thoughts and had mindlessly dropped it somewhere, forgetting about it. But now, with a sense of desperate urgency, she decided to go find it and open it. She searched through her room, looking for the crumpled piece of paper. She checked her dresser, her desk, and her bookshelf, but it was nowhere to be found. Just as she was about to give up, she spotted something laying casually on her bedside table. It was the paper! Nikita could feel a sense of relief wash over her as she read the simple message scrawled on the paper. "I am alive," Blaze's name was written beneat

She had never seen the book in her life. "I don't—" But Maeven stopped her with an upraised hand. I see," she said. "Ink in this book is a ritual for temple rituals. It's only something a high-ranking witch would be allowed to use. The same ink that disappeared three nights before." The onlookers started murmuring. Mark and Lark exchanged glances across the yard. Maeven slowly turned the book over, presenting the eyes gathered there to rest upon the heavy ceremonial ink and jagged markings within.

“Doubt keeps you alive.” He reached for a book from the nearest shelf and flipped it open. The pages were blank. “Do you know why my library has no dust?” I shook my head. “Because the books breathe,” he said. “They exhale what others forget.” He offered the book to me. The pages shifted—faint outlines forming, fading, forming again. Names, dates, a line of ink that moved like a pulse: Evelyn Blackthorne arrived under a waning moon. I slammed it shut. “You’re writing my story.”