Dc Comics Daxam Novels & Stories

That at least gave me the strength to want to keep going. "Believe it or not, neonata...” Dante whispered, running his finger over my lower back “I am even luckier knowing that I have a mate who is more than willing to stand strong beside me, fighting the battles that we both know are painful. You didn’t lose yourself or your morals despite everything that you’ve seen and been through, and that only proves to me how beautiful your heart is”

He walked into our camp like smoke. Tall, silent, wrapped in iron-colored robes. Voice that scraped like bone. “You are the child of two wars,” he said to me. “Do you know which one you’ll finish?” Then he vanished into nothing. Dax never carried a weapon. Until today. He stood between me and a traitor wolf. “You’re not the only one who can bleed for her,” he said. Then he sliced the traitor’s throat open. His hands shook. Not from fear. But from love.

They had been too concentrated on Amara that they had not thought that Damascus could have freed himself. Damascus didn’t wait a second longer after leaving the SUV before he shifted. His scaled body and wings stretched as he threw himself towards their attackers. The two men at the SUV reaching for Amara were the first to go. Damascus tore the men apart easily enough and moved to help free Cain. However, during the struggle the two wolves that had Cain trapped shifted and ran in the opposite direction. Damascus let out a flame as far as he could in a attempt to reach them before they were able to increase their distance.

question, it felt like a difficult to Dax. He got up from his chair and paced back and forth while wondering in his thoughts. “Would you be interested in my wife if she wasn't my wife anymore?” Liam screamed. “Yes!” Dax shouted before realizing that he meant to answer in his head and not out loud. Liam immediately ended the call and threw his phone on the desk. “Damn it! Why the hell did I have to open Pandora box!” Liam yelled out in frustration. At six o'clock on the dot, Dax came out of his office, and as he strolled towards Carmen, he directed his face the other way to avoid eye contact with her. Then he sped his movement and walked past her without saying a word or looking her way.

“What do you get out of this once the child’s out?” Dax leans back in his chair and relaxes his fist. His entire focus turns to Moon. “One way or another, the child is getting out even if I die doing it. When she’s safe,” he looks around the room and meets each person’s eyes before zeroing in on Moon again, “I’m killing Fox and taking over the DC.” “Fuck me,” Alex whispers. His fingers tighten on my thigh and I cover his hand. He immediately loosens his grip, turns his palm over, and interlaces our fingers. His gentleness calms me.

He shifted back and looked around before leaving. Seconds later he came back with a stick that had its ends perfectly whittled and threw them at me. “You must be her mate.” Damon said after watching me dodge the stick. “You people and your pesky powers. I killed two of your kind, I don’t mind adding you to the list.” he shifted again and jumped off the flames even while they flared angrily. I moved back and finally shifted too. Dax came out ready to face the threat against his mate. I made an armour of flame for him as they jumped at each other's throat. Dax was as big as he was.

From all of us as we stood here in front of a woman who I knew wanted nothing more than to destroy and break everything that we had, our confidence and our strength. “You heard her!” Damon bellowed behind me, his own voice a roar. “Every claw! Every fang! Tonight we fight until the last drop of blood! Tonight we are going to end this war and we're not going to stop. This sunrise is not going to happen until all of them are dead.” The ground shook harder now, the mist pushing closer. But the wolves stood taller. Stronger. Ready. And so did I. I bared my teeth, my chest rising and falling as I stared into the black.

DAMIEN I had noticed her the moment she was dragged into the throne room. Even in chains, the daughter of a criminal, Rosalia Muller commanded attention—not with the practiced grace of our court ladies, but with something far more intriguing. Her dark red hair caught the light filtering through the stained glass, creating a halo of crimson around her face. There was a wild beauty in her desperation, in the way she held herself despite everything crumbling around her.