Dark Stiles Novels & Stories

After that text, the heavy carriage pulls away into the fog, leaving Stiles standing on the stone steps with his back completely drenched in cold sweat and his hands trembling violently. "Alpha Stilinski, are your bones alright?" one of his enforcers asks hurriedly, running to his side. Stiles turns his pale face to his crew and declares with a loud roar, "Listen to my command! From this moon forward, our pack buries the hatchet with that doctor completely—no, with Mr. Hale! Anyone under my shadow who dares to provoke his scent will answer directly to my own claws! I will wipe out their entire family line myself!"

Before I knew it, I’d lost my shoes and I was on stage dancing with my whole group, even the guys, and several strippers. They kept trying to get me to go for a private dance but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn't ever remember being THIS drunk, or having this much fun. I was covered in glitter and sweat and booze and giggling like an idiot. I found myself playing peek-a-boo with a stripper named Axel because he kept shaking his ass in my face and I was pretending not to see it. I looked over and saw Beth throw up off the side of the stage and I knew it was time to go. I told Marcus and he too, was way past his limit. We got everyone together and made our way back to the bus.

"Stacy, I was weak. I was unable to intervene to keep you both safe. Furthermore, I worry that it might be too late to fix what has been damaged. A harsh, urgent tone reverberated off the study walls when a phone rang, breaking the silence before Stacy could reply. Gregor grabbed his own phone and scowled. A notification with the statement, "The clock is ticking," appeared on the screen. Come to the old warehouse with me. midnight. As he read it, his eyes grew wide, and he turned to face Stacy with a look of desperation. "This threat is serious. It appears like Sebastian Blackwood is plotting something... terrible, and his men have been mobilised.

I bent on my knees, took the pill and drank the juice - the choice of flavour left me stunned, it was my favourite mango juice. I got up and walked down the stairs, the bed area was separated from the other part of the room. The room’s theme was grey, black with a little touch of white somehow eternal. Must have had a rich chick on my plate - I thought and smiled but this smile changed into fear real quick by the one man who’s been ruling my mind. I wiped him off and continued to walk downstairs. As I was about to step down from the last stair, my lower abdomen hurt as somebody stabbed me there, I wrapped my arms around it and my eyes escaped those tears which were warning me to fall back th

♠️ ETHAN♠️ The warehouse district was a ghost town at night, rusted metal and broken windows, the perfect place for secrets. We moved in silence: Caspian’s team in black tactical gear, Dre and I flanking them. Thermal drones had pinpointed heat signatures inside the old cannery building. We breached hard, flashbangs popping, doors kicked in. Shouts echoed as Caspian’s men flooded the space. Brandon had Georgia pinned against a wall, knife to her throat, eyes manic. Jamila and Francesca stood nearby, guns drawn, duffels at their feet, ready to bolt.

It’d make too much noise, and Priscilla needed me quiet, smart… deadly, but in control. Footsteps. Several. Closing in fast. I spun behind a crumbled archway just as the first one emerged from the shadows—Stinger. Its skin was a dull gray, cracked like old stone, its eyes hollow and glowing dimly like coals waiting to reignite. Two more followed, moving in a formation I didn’t like—fast, tactical, meant for tearing intruders apart. No time for subtlety.

And there was only one place that I could think of that processed the kind of magic that Tenebris would need. The only place of real magical significance in close proximity. The standing stones. “Alison!” Drake called once more as we crashed out of the woodlands and into the clearing where the stones stood. Low and behold, there she was. Her body bound to the central stone. Tenebris’ dark form loaming over her. “Ah, we meet again Rosalie Black.” His red eyes finding me amongst the growing crowd of people.

Steven jokes and they both chuckle. Stacey’s feet have now turned black because the pitch-black matter has touched it earlier like a beautifully matted mannequin foot in contrast to all of her porcelain-like glowing skin. What could have happened if Steven has left her there? She would be unrecognizable. It’s all my fault...