Captain Hook Killian Novels & Stories

The voice of a judge, not a grieving partner. “Of course, she won't display her emotions on national tv, because she was having an affair with that monster, mtchew. Good riddance.” I said out loud. "Marcus Kuntz was a dedicated officer who served this city for nearly three decades. He was a man who chose, every day, to stand between this community and harm. His death is a tragedy. And the person responsible must be held fully accountable." She paused to catch her breath before continuing her speech.

Tears streamed continuously down my flushed cheeks. Killian turned his attention back to the massive screen. His pale gray eyes were pitch black with absolute triumph. "You will watch her live her entire life by my side," Killian promised, his voice a dark, lethal threat. "You will watch my beautiful wife carry my children. You will watch her build my empire. And you will cry blood knowing you can never, ever get her back." Killian reached into his pocket and pulled out a small remote. He pressed a single button. The massive screen instantly went pitch black. The audio cut off.

"Are you serious?" "Pretty sure." Killian smirked. "It seems we finally have a lead!"

he gently inquired, his voice filled with compassion and understanding. Drawing in a shaky breath, Killian mustered the courage to speak, his anxiety evident as he nervously bit his lower lip. "It's the rogue," he started, his voice trembling under the weight of stress. "Please, go on," the Elderly encouraged, his eyes fixed on Killian , eager to unravel the entire story. He had known the young King since his childhood, witnessing the joy that once radiated from him. Despite the constant pressures exerted by his father to mature quickly, Killian 's mother, Queen Elizabeth, had shielded him from the darkness, ensuring his innocence remained intact. She embodied the essence of a remarkable que

Elena managed to say trying to hide her fear but her voice betrayed her. “Oh, don’t be scared dear Elena, I’m not going to kill you, you have proved yourself to be a useful ally” Killian said as he saw relief washed over Elena’s face, “but why kill them and not imprison them” Elena asked “Because killing them will be less stressful than keeping them as my prisoners, it will also serve as a warning to others, that I’m not a man to be crossed,” Killian said as smiled, Elena as always knew he was a deranged psychopath but she never knew he had a death wish too.

"This one's a vampire, too? I'll kill him." "Hey, Killian stop." I immediately grabbed his arm to stop him. It's too obvious he's been waiting for this day all along. "So, where's the other guy?" I shifted the topic and turn at Killian. Some of his hair strands were already lying on his forehead I can't help but fix it. I'm just not used when he's not in his CEO hair. "He killed himself." His deep voice mumbled, his eyes roaming in mine from head to toe. "Did you get hurt?"

"I have no idea what beef you have with this man. But yes, you know him. It's Killian from the Ravens." Liquid disappointment seeped through my bloodstream. Searching for where the fault lies. I should have understood that Killian wouldn't back down even if I warned him. Once a destroyer, always a destroyer. Besides, why didn't I think Gloria would accidentally run into Killian at the village bar? And considering they were both witches, of course they successfully hit off. If it wasn't, he would still always find a way. "Uh-oh, I don't like the way you look at me right now," Gloria complained, blinking at me.

Rohan said. Killian nodded. “I will. Thank you, Rohan.” They exchanged a brotherly hug, and before leaving, Rohan dipped his head at me in farewell. By then, Killian’s aura was rolling off him in heavy waves. Whatever that clandestine place was, the information had clearly soured his mood. We moved to a more private area of the restaurant, and just as I sat beside him, he pulled me closer by the throat—not aggressively, but possessively. “Now tell me the truth, Doll. How do you really know him?” he hissed, so close our mouths almost touched. “Is he the one who taught you all those little tricks you claim to know?”

I moved through the sweaty bodies, my eyes scanning the room until I saw him. ​He was leaning against the far wall, a shadow in a room full of neon. Ryan Carter. The captain of the hockey team. The guy with the dangerous reputation and the haunted eyes. ​Perfect. ​I didn't hesitate. I didn't think. If I did, I’d stop. I walked straight up to him. He noticed me three paces out, his gaze locking onto mine. His eyes were dark, confused, and entirely too focused. ​"You lost?" he said. His voice was a low, gravelly rasp that made the hair on my arms stand up.

It was Killian. He stood in the center of the rotting dock, his chest heaving, his silver-blue eyes burning with a dark, lethal fire. His bespoke charcoal suit was drenched with rain, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. He didn't look like a billionaire. He looked like an executioner. Killian slowly turned his head, his gaze locking onto mine. "I told you," he whispered, his voice a low, terrifying rasp that vibrated in my bones. "No one steals what’s mine."