Dark Aesthetic Novels & Stories

“Good, because between the Grand Coven and the VC, I’m about ready to go live off the grid and answer to no one.” “You don’t have to live off the grid to answer to no one,” he says, coming back out and buttoning a white dress shirt. My stomach tightens when I look at him. I swear Lucas could wear anything and make it look sexual. Because right now, wearing black dress pants and that button-up shirt, he’s looking like an undead Christian Grey who’d love to play with me all night. “I don’t answer to anyone but myself.” I cock an eyebrow. “And you,” he adds with a grin.

I say a little impatiently, she nods and approaches the laptop, Scott turns it to give her access and can carry out the transaction once she does it, she turns to me and comment “So they made it... D and you made it in...” I frown upon hearing that name, that's what they used to call Dark before joining the organization, why? Because wherever he went he always left a trail of death in his wake… D, for Death. “That's right... and you are?...” she asked, since she finally caught my attention, she smiles and comments wistfully “ready ...” Scott interrupts us verifying the transaction “I doubt very much that you remember me, but let's say that I am one of the many survivors that they ran into on

Damonq was on the stairs, and Darkness swung around to face him. Elina forced herself to look at the ancient warrior. He was the opposite of everything Darkness was. Roped muscles, scars, waist-length salt-and-pepper hair. He looked rugged. Tough. Scary. He had tattoos drifting up his neck so he looked a little like a modern-day outlaw biker. Darkness, despite his head being blown off repeatedly, always managed to restore his flawless, model looks. At first glance, one would be terrified of Damonq, not Darkness, and that would be a very big mistake.

I murmured a quick thank you before stepping inside, curiosity getting the best of me. As soon as I walked in, I was enveloped by the prominent fragrance of Dax, which was full of variety clean, and intoxicating. His room looked just how I pictured it: sleek, tidy, and effortlessly masculine. The color scheme was made up of mostly gray and black, which gave it a subtle but powerful vibe.

Plus, the icing on the cake was that I would be away from Alexa and Calvin. “I heard about your little stunt last night,” Alexa informed me, gliding up to my desk. I wondered how someone so pretty could be so evil. She was tall with dark, glossy hair that was always perfectly coiffed. Her eyes were a unique shade of gray with lashes so long they made a breeze when she blinked. Add in perfect porcelain skin, legs that stretched into infinity and a waist that was built for the designer skirts she always seemed to wear, and she was gorgeous. Gorgeous and incredibly evil.

Stepping out of the elevator and onto Cristiano's forbidden floor, I felt like I was breaking into Area 51, except instead of aliens, I was probably about to uncover some deep, dark mafia secrets. The lights overhead shining from the ceiling were dim, casting the massive space in this moody black-and-white vibe that was so… Cristiano. Everything was perfect, simple, and cool, like a luxury penthouse straight out of a P*******t board titled “Rich Villain Aesthetic.” There was no clutter, no personality really—just sharp lines, sleek surfaces, and black and white of everything.

Darian Volkov turned around. The light from a desk lamp hit his face, and I forgot how to breathe. He wasn't just a businessman. He was a weapon…His eyes were the color of the North Sea in winter…grey, blue, and utterly heartless. His face was all sharp angles and hard lines. He was beautiful in the way a storm is beautiful. Dangerous. Unpredictable. Darian Volkov was hot. He even didn't look at Xavier. He looked at me.

Reminding me of what I did 14 years ago “Sure… but why can’t you let him meet her sister first?” “Here we go again.” He leans his head to me, hold my chin with his cold right hand and say “We do not question the command; we just do it.” With this distance, I could clearly see his deep green eyes with dark brown lining, it sparkles when he speaks even if he is angry he looks so good. His muscular chest fit his breast plate very well, on his back is a huge two-edged sword that he uses to redeem lives. He is riding on a dark shinny horse he named as Hugo.

It's just too much for a modest 17 years old girl like her. All she knows is that she feels something, something deep, something dark, something erotic, something that is never going to be accepted by the society. You are so messed up Arya," she screamed inwardly at herself. Arya, have mercy on the poor macaroni," Christie said snapping her back to life. She hissed out loud, then dropped her spoon noisily on the plate and pushed it aside. forever. Ugh!! Finally, someone decides to speak up," Christie teased.

[LUNA] Here I am again, at the bar, trying to drown myself in liquor. But this isn't just any liquor—this one is different. A darker brew, gifted by the elder vampires themselves. I don’t know what’s in it, but it grips me, sends a shiver down my spine, makes the room spin just the way I want it to.