Daniel Grigori Fallen Novels & Stories

There was virtually nothing Grigori couldn’t uncover. I was feeling very bloodthirsty and unfortunately for me Danilo Bianchi was already six feet below before I can put him there myself. I needed to sate the vengeful devil inside me somehow. I picked up my phone and dialed Grigori. “I want you to track Danilo’s illegal content distribution and get me the data of every transaction plus the buyers.” “Yes, boss.” Grigori answered. “But I must say, that would take a while.” I considered his words before giving a small nod of acceptance. The wait would be worth it. “Do your best.”

But tonight, there was something different in his gaze: something softer, more vulnerable beneath the storm, a flicker of something I hadn’t seen before. “You made it,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous. “Even after everything… the fire, the lies, the obsession.” “I had to,” I whispered, breath catching. “I can’t stop. I… I’m already lost. Completely.” He stepped closer, heat radiating from him like a living thing. “Good,” he said, dark smirk curling. “Because some flames… aren’t meant to be tamed. And some hearts… aren’t meant to survive without surrender. And you… you’ve already surrendered everything.”

Kaerlia remarked, savoring more of the concoction. "Be cautious, if you consume too much, it may turn bitter," Mayan-Odette cautioned. It sounded as if Mayan-Odette was alluding to something beyond the medicine, but Kaerlia couldn't quite grasp it. "Farah Danvers, the only child of the late General Danvers. She was known as the 'Dark Star' of the werewolf race, with her dark hair, grey eyes, and cherry lips. Raised by her father to be a future general, they relocated to Crescent Hills, where she crossed paths with Mobali in the palace. They discovered they were mates, and Mobali was at his happiest. However, war erupted between werewolves and vampires, and General Danvers fell gravely ill. F

To his surprise, Daniel didn't squeeze his shoulder. “Help… me,” he said in the middle of a growl, and then he faded little by little until he fell unconscious to the floor. Darius tried to catch him before he fell at his feet, but he was too heavy. Christopher and Amira helped him lay him back down on the bed, and after a few minutes they watched as Daniel's body slowly returned to normal.

I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. Grace leaned forward, her tone measured. “Because Margaret erased him. He was exiled from the family years ago. Some say it was because of his temper; others say he got involved in things that could ruin the Harrington name. Whatever the reason, he’s back now, and he’s not happy about you.” I frowned, trying to process this new information. “And you’re telling me this because...?” “Because Daniel isn’t like Marcel,” Grace said, her gaze steady. “He’s dangerous in ways you can’t imagine. He doesn’t play games. He destroys it.”

"Let the Great Elders see you strike the future Luna of House Argyros in the middle of the sacred gathering grounds. Let us see if your head remains on your shoulders by sunset." His fist trembles in the air, his breathing ragged as he realizes the trap. He slowly lowers his hand, his eyes burning with pure, unadulterated hatred. "You think you are safe because of that old hag's protection?" "I am safe because I know how to play the board," I reply, turning to walk away. "Now, get out of my sight." "Are you really that confident, Gorgo?" Daniel's voice turns dangerously smooth, stopping me in my tracks. "You might be untouchable for now, but what about that little pack sister of yours? The w

“Do you think you’ll be able to cling to my back, Bell? Be honest. If you don’t feel up to it, I will find another way to get you down, but Saint and Slade are waiting at the bottom in case anything happens.” I didn’t particularly relish the idea of freefalling through the air, so I made sure I was positive in my capabilities before I answered, ensuring him I would be fine to ride piggyback style down. My injuries weren’t easily suppressed, but I was able to shove aside the ache for a little longer as Silas stooped down to let me scramble up on his back. Awkwardly, I fumbled in the darkness, practically groping him as I felt for where he was at in front of me.

“Quiet is worse. It means IZO44 has shifted tactics. Look at this.” She turned the screen toward the others. Grainy surveillance footage showed a man they all recognized — a former informant from their early days hunting the AI. He was meeting with unknown figures in a parking garage, handing over what looked like encrypted drives. Lena leaned in, her brow furrowed. “That’s Daniel. He dropped off the grid six months ago. We thought he was dead.” Joel crossed his arms, jaw tight. “He’s not dead. He’s a proxy now. IZO44 isn’t just predicting us anymore. It’s recruiting.”

It was frustrating, hateful, temper-damaging to be in the closest place to him and still feel unattainable. It summed up the definition of insufficiency, as well as belittling my name. That cretin. - Run, you injured people - I shout when looking back seeing that my men did not follow my step. They reported a confrontation at the back and Daniel's scent gave away his presence there. From the beginning of programming the attack, Daniel made clear his essential priority there, to kill Castiel Corfin. He was the first to enter, stating that he didn't need that suspense or preparation to find the perfect moment to reveal us, nor the distractions. With the castle falling, the enemies dissipating

The crunch made my stomach twist. This was too much. This wasn’t dominance anymore. This wasn’t pride. This was carnage. Daniel dropped to one knee, clutching his nose. Blood seeped between his fingers, dripping onto the already ruined grass. “Crazy bastard,” he muttered — but there was no weakness in it. He stood. Slowly. “And you know what will get you killed?” He let his hand fall from his face. Blood coated his lips, streaked down his chin, soaked into his collar. His eyes darkened — not metaphorically.