Caraval Novels & Stories

Tall, dark red stilettos. She’s wearing a sating dress that clings onto her body perfectly, complemented by the dazzling jewelry around her neck and wrists. Her hair, her smile, her eyes, she looks incredible. I soon realise that she is not the woman I met last night. Something has changed, and her aura has shifted into something dangerous. Tristan’s body is still turned to me, but his eyes are fixed on Bella, with his lips slightly parted in awe. Her scent fills the room. “Miss Ward, please have a seat.”

His mother looked across the square and waved, a smile spreading across her face, even at this distance. "You want to go visit your parents first?" Jocelyn waved at his mother, smiling. Caden waved, too. "Not now." "Why not?" He smiled, nodding toward the street. "Because the carriage is here." They looked down the street and the carriage was headed straight toward them, pulled by two beautiful brown and white Clydesdale horses. Their big hooves clomped noisily against the pavement. Luckily, no one else appeared to be waiting. "Shall we?" He held out his hand and she took it.

Carl had become a regular in the three days to the wedding. After the chocolates, he sent in an all exclusive black credit card that I took generous advantage in planning to get my things, I met him almost twice and the experience was almost pleasant and even sensual. I was picking the venue with him; we went to see the owner of the cathedrals and while we were waiting for the vampire billionaire, who had an odd penchant for acquiring church buildings, Carl asked, “So what are you wearing under that coat?”

Her eyes were cold as her voice. “She arrives first, of course,” one villager muttered, clutching a charm in his pocket. Cassandra’s carriage, shaped like a coiled serpent with crystal windows, gleamed ominously as she stepped in, head held high. Next came Velarissa, Vampire Princess of Duskmoore.

The velvet curtain brushed her bare thighs as she pushed through the private entrance. Past the red hallway, past the murmuring crowd of elite men sipping aged whiskey and pretending not to look too hungry. Past the unspoken rules of the club, Ava walked with the confidence of a woman who knew every eye followed her, even if they pretended not to. Tonight was different though. Tonight she was nervous. Behind the bar, Lana gave a slight nod. A signal. He was here. Not just any client. The Black Card man. No name, no questions. The one who’d wired a deposit triple her usual f*e with a single instruction:

Mystic Vale's gaze grew even deeper, the aura around him more restrained, yet all the more dangerous. He turned and walked into the pavilion, his figure vanishing into the shadows, leaving only the sunlight and the sound of the wind in the courtyard, along with a faint, lingering scent of blood in the air. Meanwhile, a black Maybach was speeding along, its body racing forward like a giant beast. Carl looked down at Amelia in his arms with a trace of heartache in his eyes. His fingertips unconsciously brushed her wrist, and he paused, pressing his finger to her pulse.

I exchanged a glance with Karen and she shrugged in response. “Are you guys ready to get on this trip?” Carl’s excited voice inquired. “We are!” The response was a chorus followed by bursts of laughter. “Our first stop will be the Dark Storm pack. So let’s get on it.” He mused starting the car. Karen stretched out her hand to pinch me. “I hear there is eye candy at the Dark Storm pack.” I turned my lips up. “What sort of candy?” Bianca giggled, shaking her head. “Male candy. They do have good-looking men. I hear they take one's breath away.”

Emily’s POV The warm Caribbean breeze kissed my sun-kissed skin as I stepped onto the wooden deck of the private villa. Palm trees swayed lazily against a perfect turquoise sky, and the ocean whispered promises of relaxation. This was supposed to be our second honeymoon—eight years of marriage to Ryan, and I desperately needed this escape. At thirty-two, I still turned heads with my curvy figure: full breasts that strained against bikini tops, a narrow waist flaring into wide hips, and long wavy auburn hair that cascaded down my back. But lately, the spark in our bedroom had dimmed to polite routine. Ryan worked endless hours as a corporate lawyer, leaving me—a graphic designer who worked fr

What do I do? His lips slowly curved into a half-smile. “I love you Evelyn” And with that we both came. Unknown pov: Carol’s heels clicked furiously against the pavement as she exited the estate gates. Her fingers trembled—not from the cold, but from fury. Humiliation. Betrayal. She slid into the backseat of a waiting black car, slamming the door harder than necessary. The driver didn’t flinch. He wasn’t just a driver. “Drive,” she snapped.

Cara makes a disgusted face as close it. They are to search the house for the cup which Jonathan had hidden earlier in the day. The winner gets a yellow convertible to be specific, a 1969 Chevrolet Camaro SS Convertible. Cara doesn't know what it is but since it's a car of some sort, She is more than determined to get it, so she called for reinforcements, meaning she called Cassie. "So are you still going through with your plan to avoid Xander?" Cassie shifts on the couch to see Cara who's being her.