Breaking Dawn Carlisle Death Novels & Stories

Lacey goes to get us some drinks and I rub circles on Nathan's hand. "Do you think she'll be okay?" I ask quietly. I think Marcus is half asleep as we've been waiting for about two hours now. "I don't know baby." Is all Nathan says. He gives me a weak smile and kisses my forehead and then Marcus'. Lacey gets back and we wait for another half an hour before a doctor comes out. Marcus stands up as the doctor walks over to us. "Are you here for Danielle Carlisle?" He asks and Marcus nods. "I'm sorry to say she passed away during emergency surgery. There was significant injury to her brain and too much blood loss. You can come and see her in a few moments."

A gasping, whispered laugh, heavy with fatigue and something else—victory. Vandaulf's arms tightened around her, his own heart still pounding. Helena's eyes fought with his. "We have to get out of here." Vandaulf gasped. It was over. Brigs Carlston collapsed onto the white marble floor, blood spreading across his sharp suit. His breathing was in ragged, saw-tooth gasps. His fingers trembled, trying to grasp the burning gash in his chest. Not dead. Not yet. Helena Carlston loomed over him, gun still raised high, face still empty. But in her eyes—something worse.

But he wasn’t frowning now as he wet the cloth again and returned to Caleb’s neck to clean the oozing pus. Caleb’s eyes were closed, his long dark lashes still against his ashy skin. “Fucking Dark Storm warrior my ass,” Carl mumbled to himself as he lifted the clothe to Caleb’s forehead. “Taking a knife for someone else is the worst way to die you fool.” Caleb remained still but from Carl’s actions of talking and cleaning Maggie could tell that this was not the first time Carl was cleaning Caleb up and she wondered how many of the others knew this.

“What happened? Tell me.” Clara took a shaky breath. “Carlton—he’s dead. We were ambushed, and the car flipped. Aidan got me out, but Carlton was hurt badly, and he couldn’t get him out. Oh my God, Millie, we had to leave him behind. I keep seeing it, hearing the gunfire. I feel so guilty.”

He wouldn't stop arguing with Theodore every single day during those two weeks, and each time, it had been because of me. One day, Carlisle drank himself close to unconsciousness at a bar. Then, he suddenly grabbed me and said, "I've already broken up with Theodore. Are you happy now?"

Carlisle spoke lightly, although his bright irises had dimmed to a dark colour as proof of his anger. Every cold-blooded creature was promised one being to spend the rest of their long lives with. A being that fit into their puzzles like the perfect missing piece. King Carlisle being over six hundred years had lived a life that other cold-blooded creatures vowed to be hell on earth. He was without a soulmate, having killed her with his own hands in a moment of blinding rage. A moment that would forever haunt him and was the main reason why he had an eternal debt to pay; leaving himself vulnerable out in the human world, an easy target for whosoever cared.

The crisp night air went completely dead. I froze. I didn't know how to explain Carl's gambling debts or Adrian's gang life. She just recovered from the surgery and I couldn't give her another heart attack. Noah shifted beside me. He didn't hesitate for a single second. "Carl Campbell died of a drug overdose last week," Noah stated loudly. His tone was completely clinical, devoid of all human empathy. "And Adrian shot your daughter in the shoulder. That jerk doesn't dare go back to New York now."

He returned home once a year, but never saw Yosef again. When Carl was twelve, he received devastating news: his mother had died. He returned to the small town for her funeral, which was attended only by his grandfather, Fred. The police claimed it was a suicide, but Carl couldn’t believe it. Back in the Nelson household, Carl was overwhelmed with grief. He heard rumors that Yosef had returned to town, which reignited a flicker of hope in his heart. Carl thought Yosef, the future head of the family, might be able to help him find the truth.

It wasn't enough, so I grabbed a stool and beat him across the back until he went down. He didn't even have time to react. Suddenly, someone kicked the door open. Asher burst in, looking frantic. His eyes widened at what he saw. Carl lay on the floor, bleeding and close to death. I smiled, feeling pleased with myself. After Asher hauled Carl out, I received a video from the private investigator. In the footage, Asher sat on the couch while Carl knelt at his feet, bruised and bleeding. Asher's voice stayed flat. "You touched her? Do you have a death wish?"

The intense confrontation had finally ended. Despite the grave danger, everyone escaped unharmed. The sole exception was Carl, a key member of Jameson’s team, who was fatally shot. His death marked the complete downfall of Jameson’s reign of terror, which had lasted nearly a decade. Now, the only task remaining was to bring that viper, Jameson, to justice. Axel accompanied Amber to the hospital. Police secured the crime scene, keeping reporters at bay. Jasper exited the church and reconvened with Jonah and Cyrus.