Darren Dalton Novels & Stories

That's what's the terrifying part. "Rylan isn't here anymore, Dawn," he says menacingly. "Right now, you're talking to Sinful."

Inside we head towards Daryl’s office and Jordan knocks. “Enter” I push open the door to see Daryl sat in his office chair, but he wasn’t alone. A man that was a similar age to Daryl was sat opposite him, his green eyes on me. A scar ran down his left cheek and his blonde hair was shaven in a buzz cut. “You must be Luna Ashley. Well Alpha Daryl, you certainly kept this pretty thing hidden” Shit, was he going to challenge Daryl for me.

Even the children were happy to see him like this. “Luna!” The moment shattered. We both turned at the same time. Mira. She stood at the edge of the training field, dressed in a fitted cream blouse and sharp sunglasses, waving far too enthusiastically. And for a second, I could have sworn that Nolan tensed beside me. He didn't move, however, the smile that was on his face almost instantly shifted. “Are you ready for our shopping date?” she called out, voice carrying just enough cheer to sound false. “Don't tell me that you forgot?”

"F*ck you! You are doomed! Doomed!" Dalton's face was full of hatred; he was exasperated! As the president of Dalton Entertainment, he had never experienced humiliation like that! F*cking hell! He would have to murder that kid one day! Darryl smiled at him. "Fatso, what kind of attitude is that? Come on; I only peed on you a little! Here, I'll wash it off for you." Darryl grabbed Dalton's collar and pressed his head into a urinal.

I answered because saying more would just make me angry again. “Understood. How would you like to handle the situation here?” David asked, his voice rising again. “I want Darien arrested for attempted assault of a camper. I won’t bat an eye if you rough him up for having the balls even to try to touch your next Luna,” I growled out my response. “Be my pleasure, sir,” he smiled.

"Special Agent Dalton Graham, this is Ben Jackson." The agent extended his hand. "I recognize you from the video of the incident." Ben shook the man's hand. "I can stay if you want, Ben," Donal said. "Doesn't matter to me." "Then I'm off to grab some bagels for breakfast. Anyone need anything before I go?" "I'm good. Thanks, Donal," Dalton said. Donal left them. Dalton wore a gray suit with a white shirt and a red tie. It was the only thing with color on him. He had a tablet computer in front of him, and he tapped it a few times before looking up at Ben. "Tell me about the other night."

"Because I brought the caffeine and the moral superiority." But she wasn't alone. From the passenger side, a tall, lanky figure emerged. He wore a faded swimming hoodie and carried a duffel bag that looked like it had seen three different decades. He had a messy shock of hair and a grin that was entirely too wide for the current state of pack politics. Dalton. Samuel’s rival from the early days. The man who had been the only one to push Samuel in the water before the world went gray. The one who had vanished into the professional circuits but had apparently never forgotten the guy in Lane 4.

Darren stepped up and dialed someone's number. "I wonder what happened six years ago to Ralin Benedict!"

"Mr. Dankworth, please, just call me Daniel. I believe I've been here often enough." My mother's expression shifted, a hint of pride coloring her features. "Darren is based in the U.S.," she said, touching Daniel's arm lightly, "only here for a visit. Though I suspect he plans to return soon, don't you, Darren?" Darren hesitated, his gaze finding mine.

Farrah didn’t hesitate to follow, curiously looking at the person inside the room. It was a man, shirtless, with an outstanding figure. He was holding hefty dumbbells with both hands. In Farrah’s estimate, this dumbbell probably weighs gigantic. The man finally noticed Twilight and Farrah. With a distorted face, he screeched. “What the h*ck is your problem, old hag? Not even knocking! And who the hell is this woman?” Sadly, it didn't affect Twilight even when called an Old Hag. She just tilted her chin and said to Farrah, “Dr. Lee, the sharp-shooter of the team, Patrick.”