Dark Rey Novels & Stories

‘I feel sick…’ As Rey surveyed the scene before him and the man standing there, he felt disgusted beyond words. Killing monsters had already become a part of his normal life, but there was no way to get used to this; Blood. Gore. Death. The death of humans. ‘Haaa… calm down, Rey.’ At the moment, he was playing the character of Ralyks—the dark and gritty man of the shadows. He couldn’t afford to blow his cover here.

the man said as he stepped out of the shadows. He was tall, like most dragonkin with Sire blood were, I reckoned he was in his mid-thirties or so. He had light blue eyes and dark brown hair that hung down to his shoulders. His clothes were expensive and his hands looked like they had seen plenty of fights. “The infamous Ryder Grey, elite hunter of the supernatural world, we meet at last,” he said as he sat down on the chair that Clifford had placed in front of me. “I assume you’re Carlson,” I said to him and he smiled at me.

“Are you going to talk or keep staring?” Dre smirked. “Who’s your plug?” “My plug for what?” “Your plug for boldness,” he snapped. “Do you know Mr. Blackwood could’ve killed you? All because of his daughter?” “Salvador ordered me to use Marlene,” I said bluntly. Dre froze. “What? That’s insane—” “It’s the order,” I continued. “If I want him to keep paying for Reina’s treatment. If I want those men to stay off your back.”

Yes, that will do. If you guys are wondering what a blind kid is seeing. Well, I can't see anything. That's it. Darkness. Dullness. I can't see but, I thank the heavens every single day that I can still hear them. It's just getting worse day by day. Although I can't be a burden here, I can't do anything but just thank them. They are the light in my dark path. They are my guide and I'm more than thankful for that. Curse that bastard. It's his fault. I can't be what I want to be anymore. I'll just be a bother with my whole life, am I? I can't help it. It's getting worse. I can feel this stupid tears building inside their cage, again. No no. I don't. I won't cry. Not again. Please, don't come o

The black-robed elder raised his hand, and a ray of black light headed toward Rebella. In the next second, Rebella was engulfed by a thick black light. She had a feeling she was going to have a breakthrough. “Have I reached the peak of the Yuraeceon Daelm Rank’s Ninth Tribulation?” Rebella raised her hand. She found it hard to believe. “It’s only temporary.” With a blank face, the black-robed elder said, “He needs your help right now. If you don’t want to stop here, let go of your obsession and help him sincerely.

Chapter Two. AZAEL BLACKWELL. The redhead with the big blue eyes was moving her hips in circles above me, I could feel my manhood coming in and out of her over and over again, I was focusing, imagining her to be that sweet redhead I've been studying for months, one that, has become the main protagonist of every one of my fantasies, I can't get her out of my head, not until I have her in my hands and make her mine, just mine.

It’s the primal satisfaction I’ve been denied for too long. I savor each drop, licking the blood from my hands, indulging in the power it gives me. The deer’s cries soften, but I silence them swiftly, snapping its neck to end its suffering. In this moment, I reclaim my strength, no longer tethered to the weaknesses of humanity. I am back, and I am in control. ———

'' Tylor boomed and banged his fists on the wall angrily. My eyes shot up to him. I gasped. His green orbs had disappeared. They were now filled with desolate darkness. His eyes were pitch black, animal-like, deadly. There was no sign of Tylor in those eyes. He was totally gone. '' You disobeyed me! I told you, I told you Sky. I told you not to come out of your fucking room!!'' Tylor fumed. His neck was crawling with darkened veins. It snaked around his arms, his torso and up his face.

The heavy wooden door opened slowly, revealing a sliver of darkness that widened into the mansion's vast entry hall. My heart hammered against my ribs. Caden stood there, looking impossibly calm. He wore dark pants and a loose white shirt, sleeves rolled up, showing strong forearms. His eyes, dark and sharp, met mine, and a slow, unsettling smile spread across his face. "Right on time, Maeve," he said, his voice a low rumble that filled the huge, echoing space. "Come in. Don't be shy."

Arthur slid into the passenger's seat of the cab that pulled up in front of him. Richard welcomed him with a grin. “It's freezing out here, man. What took you so long?“ “Sorry, bro. Just had to find the right outfit.“ Richard gestured at his outfit. Black, denim jacket. Black boot. Black gloves. Black hat. Black shades. “You look like you're on goddamn espionage.“ Arthur had zero sense of humor for the night. Something about racing through that door earlier today plunged him into a terrible mood.