Dead Heat Novel Novels & Stories

This explains why she would take her own life. "Lake Frostice is thousands of feet deep, and it even drains to the ocean. Werewolves who jump into the lake will never survive, and it's normal not to be able to find their body. "Plus, you are Luna Amber's mate. Shouldn't you know better than us whether she's still alive and breathing?" Matthew was stunned. In despair, he choked, "Yeah, I can't feel her anymore… Why… Why am I unable to feel her… "It was because of me. It was all my fault! I didn't know that she suffered from depression, and I wronged her… That was why she jumped into the lake in hopelessness. It was all my fault!

As she stepped into the warm water, her skin sighed in relief. The heat enveloped her, easing the tension in her muscles, soothing the phantom aches. She closed her eyes, letting her mind drift, the water a gentle caress against her skin, over her stomach. The door creaked open, and a shaft of dim light cut through the steam. Hades stood there, his hair messy from sleep, his eyes still heavy-lidded, but instantly alert. He had sensed her absence. His gaze swept over her, taking in the scene. A soft, sad smile touched his lips.

"Say something! Natalia Blackwood, I'll only say this once. If you ever do this to yourself again, I won't save you. I'll let you die!" Darius' voice carried the same disgust he had shown me in my past life after Celeste's death. Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded. "Alright. I won't hurt myself again, and I won't bother you anymore." After a brief hesitation, I tugged lightly at Darius' sleeve, blinking nervously. "Could you… pat my head one last time? Just once." Almost immediately, disgust flickered across his face. His brows furrowed as he pulled away.

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” —Khalil Gibran. FIVE YEARS LATER CAMELLIA Everyone was dead. And it was all my fault. I didn’t regret it in any way. “Cam, no, CAM!” Damien screamed, his voice cracking like he was the one burning. I didn’t even look at him. The flames did most of the talking. They licked up the walls, swallowed the bodies, erased the last five years like the universe finally agreed with me: some things deserve to end ugly.

Somewhere in the villa, in the security room, Zade was watching that. The thought made me feel powerful. Desired. I opened the book and started reading. The novel was well-written, the kind that didn't shy away from explicit content but wove it into an actual story. A romance between a woman and her bodyguard—how apropos—with plenty of tension and heat. I read through the setup, the growing attraction, the charged moments. Then I hit the first sex scene. And despite having spent last night being thoroughly ravished, despite my body still carrying the evidence of Zade's passion—I felt my arousal building as I read.

She was sinking deeper and deeper into waves of desire, and she was sinking far. The difference between his heated skin and her cooler body sent tremors racing down her spine. The layers of clothing separating them felt like sweet torment, heightening the anticipation for the moment they would finally connect completely. Strangely, she savored every second of this encounter, even the agonizing wait. “Do you believe you can handle everything?” he asked, his warm breath teasing her sensitive flesh. The spark in her core flared into a raging fire. In that instant, an overwhelming sensation—both new and addictive—rushed through her body in seconds. The urge for contact grew stronger than her ear

I got a lot of mails and on my side table are goods from friends who hope me to get well and from enemies who hope me to die. I hope I simply die, I run out of reason to live anyway. For the last time, I fail to find my sister, I ask people if any lady of her age appear here. Just in case she saw me in the news and got a heart to pay me a visit. Maybe she hates me or she’s no longer here… I hope she’s still alive though she can’t remember me.

She’ll die. “Maybe my type is changing.” I pull out onto the main road and head to Danny’s apartment. “I know what happened.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “Hell froze over.” She rests her head back against the seat. “Earth, as we know it, will never be the same. I looked forward to being warm in hell, not cold, so I guess I need to straighten myself out and look upward.”

I may not be able to take back what was done to her, but I could at least make those men pay. Took a little time, but I managed to find every single one and give them the deaths they so greatly deserved. The only one left was Zephyr. The one who started it all. His death will act as a warning to every man in this room, and maybe, just maybe, it will stop it from happening again. And if it doesn’t, then let them know I’ll be coming for them. They may all know me as Dasha Hatzis, daughter of Mihalis Hatzis; right-hand man of the of the most powerful mafia family in all of Greece. But to the rest of the world, I am known by my codename - Aconite; a lethal assassin who fears no man.

An unknown contact, yet the content is unmistakable – a picture of a battered Daren accompanied by a chilling message: "72 hours are up, Elena."