Dark Female Names Novels & Stories

Even though we're not related but I feel a very deep connection with him and I don't know why, he once mentioned that I remind him of Sienna. Since I opened my eyes ten years ago and glared at him I felt a connection. He's the only person close to me right now and I'm not losing him even if I have to die doing so but I'm not dying right now, I have a mission to complete. I'm going for them, I'm going to be their worst nightmare. The queen of terror. They call me, Amphitrite the dark angel.

Even though Doctor Sherry said he had to get used to hearing that name, until now Daniel still cannot hear the name 'Rania' being called without pain stabbing his heart. Doctor Sherry looked at Daniel in surprise, but a smile appeared on her lips. "Then about who?" Doctor Sherry asked enthusiastically. "About girls?" Daniel shook his head with a small smile, it seemed that Doctor Sherry was very insistent that he immediately find a replacement for Rania. "About women, but not in the way you imagined." "So?" Doctor Sherry smiled. "If I may guess, is this girl called Morana?" Daniel shouldn't be surprised because Doctor Sherry guessed it right, but he still asked. "How did you know?"

From the girls appearance he could deduct she came from an abusive one. "What's your name?" She asked now locking eyes with Asher. Feeling a blush run up his neck Asher responded. "Asher Roth." Nodding the girl slowly began to rise. "Asher Roth." She repeated slowly as she fully stood. "Please forget everything you saw tonight." With that she turned and ran away heading back into the place she had been so desperately trying to escape only moments before. Asher with his hand still outstretched watched in confusion until finally she was gone slamming her front door behind her.

Go, me. “Well, what else was I going to say? ‘Bartholomew here had a psychotic breakdown? Help, run away, save yourselves and your children?’ You should be thanking me.” I turned to face him. “My name is not Bartholomew. Nobody names their daughters Bartholomew. I’m Luna.” “I’m slightly relieved to hear that. I think.” “Get bent.” I turned away. He jogged after me. “Hey, why are you so angry at me, anyway?”

"Fine but give me a clue about what happened to these people." His wife didn’t know where to begin. She didn’t know how much he knew about the pack that lived in the house, or what happened all those years ago. So, she simply started from the beginning. "Do you remember that street kid that went by the name Nothing?" Natalia asked as they climbed the steps. "Yada was her real name," she waved her hand as she asked. "Nothing? Yada Olsen-Myers? Natalia that was twenty years ago, what does she have to do with all of this?"

She was truly the best of both her parents. “Her name is Aerian.” Syrreon told me. “What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” I drawled. “There is something you should know. She is a rare dark angel.” Syrreon added. I looked at him to make sure he was not bullshitting me. He was not. Well, fuck me! Everyone knew of the white angels, which were the common ones, but every now and then an angel would be born with colored wings and feathers. Black was the rarest and honestly, they were a myth. The last one to have been born was over 1000 years ago and even then, there was no written proof that she had existed, but there was no proof that she had not existed either. They were also said to be t

something dangerous and dark. Another email popped up immediately after. 'Good night, Elise. Don't worry too much. We don't have any bad intentions towards you. Rest well and don't forget us. We'll meet again soon. And before we forget, please note that we don't harm anyone innocent. Never did, never will.' Azael & Reuel.

Blake's sobs soon followed at the sight of nothingness, darkness and that one hole on the ceiling. "L-luca, p-please. Get me o-out of here, p-please." Sobbed Blake in despair, his lips quivering in fear. The shivers didn't stop to crawl on his skin, as the thought of not getting out there forever started to eat his soul. He crawled backwards until a cold wall hit his back, as the sound of chains echoed around the dark room.

It had been years of being the strong and young budding alpha female, and in one night, it seemed all of that had been taken away. The wolves of the Craw pack were black and strong, their eyes a variety of colors that changed based on their mood. The wolves of other packs had similar characteristics and sometimes you could only tell the difference based on scent and markings. “Other packs” however, did not include the Decent pack, the pack of the white wolves. They were the outcasts and had gone into hiding for many years now because as Isha had always been told, they were a mistake to the werewolf lineage.

How I long for death myself, to give it my own life but that is not enough, it wants the suffering and wants me to blacken my soul. The old hag of a witch can give some guidance but I must seek more. She will help but not endanger herself. I must find one who can either draw the beast from hiding or one with a soul that is neither white nor black. One who can dance with the Devil and not fall before him and yet still have the light of the divine. I will journey on. I only know that dreams will be some sort of guide. The dark rider was amongst the foliage of holly and ivy and plants that do not grow on English lands. So, I know that foreign lands are where I need to be.