Dead Stars Characters Novels & Stories

Riccardo said and she nodded then she cleaned her eyes and pretended to pull herself so she could start talking again. "Deborah how was Mr Castillo murdered?" Riccardo asked. "I saw him get stabbed repeatedly" I noticed Alicia looked at her alliances to confirm if she was saying the truth and they nodded which made her clench her jaw in fury. "Where did you go after the scene?" Riccardo asked.

From a young age, I've known I was born to be a substitute for my deceased sister, Leah. On my 6th birthday, my parents take me to the market to choose a cloak for cubs. I excitedly spend ages choosing, then point at a silver one. However, Mom's expression shifts drastically, and she grabs me by the ear and screams like a madwoman, "Who told you to choose silver? Leah's favorite color can only be red!" When Dad sees Mom act up, he roughly yanks me away. I fall to the ground, hitting my head, and blood streams down my face. From then on, I desperately try to become more like Leah. No matter what I choose, I only choose something in red, the color she loved most. But one day, I break the

"I know who murdered my sister. It's Seariel. And I want him to rot behind bars like Levi. Rishel, help me." My eyes narrowed at what I heard. I'm not too surprised because I know stars are really sinful. I was so blinded by their brilliance that I didn't see the dark secret they were keeping. They sinned. But who am I to condemn? I have a fair share of sin as well. It's like having sex outside of marriage and idolizing the stars. It's just sad and the majority has made sin a trend. That's why many believe that it's okay to commit mistakes when in fact it's not.

Damin – POV A knock on the door jolted me awake from my stupor. “Come in.” “We have two bad news,” Dexter said as he walked in. I frowned. “What now?” I didn’t want to sound annoyed but couldn’t help it. It’s been three months, and I haven't been able to sleep or eat, all because of Stella. “Alpha Altair is dead,” Dexter said with a frown. “An assassin from the Night Angel killed him.”

I turn back towards the front and begin getting my stuff out when Kevin plops down next to me. "So where's your little boyfriend?" Kevin mocks. "What are you talking about?" I reply in annoyance. "You know the Draven guy at the festival the other day." Kevin says with a sirk. "You know what they say about the Draven's don't you?" He continues. "They say they are evil vampires and anyone who is around them for too long disappears never to be seen again." He finishes. Suddenly a loud thunk sound comes from my other side and I look to see Victor pulling out the chair next to me. I look back at Kevin who wears a smirk on his face.

The old matriarch’s death rippled through the city, but nobody said much where Alessandro Visconti could hear it. Without Commission cover, the DeLuca name had become something people preferred not to touch. Inside holding, things got worse fast. Kane’s leg never healed. Infection set in, then spread. Three days later he died burning with fever and cursing everyone in reach. When they told me, I felt nothing stronger than surprise. Sofia lasted longer.

Maya was in the supply room, counting soap, because apparently romance was dead but hygiene had survived and become everyone’s problem. “Bitten?” she asked. “Doesn’t look it.” “Armed?” “Knife. Bad one.” “Intent?” “Mostly desperate.” Maya put down the soap. Then Miles added, “Says his name is Dex Hartley.” For one second, the room became very still. Not outside. Outside kept being outside: wind against corrugated metal, distant dead dragging themselves through streets they no longer had appointments in, someone swearing near the water tanks because gravity remained a bastard.

With the force of a volcano, he yelled “That bitch Stasia made a Kobayashi Maru. Meant to fail, so you understand failure happens in life. Fucking bullshit! What game is she playing? The lose of a Luna is devastating to a pack.” “I am the bitch. Everyone, please settle down,” Stasia turns out to be the human at Canon funeral. The fucking chick with ass. She stood a 5 ft something, all in black. I had no idea they made jump boots that small. Black cargo paints, black t-shirt, never looked so fucking sexy. A glock strapped to her side, knifes everywhere. Brown hair braided and put in buns. Blue piercing eyes. Fuck me please, I think I am in love. At least for the night. “Stop drooling Mark.

They carefully pile up some fingers to send to the gambling dens until Mick growls, signaling everyone to back off. I wasn’t sure how the bastard was still alive, his heart was barely recognizable. Mick trots to him, staring down into his bleak eyes. He’s on his back now, his guts exposed. A quick swipe across his face with a claw draws blood, coating Mick’s paw. I had no idea what I thought I’d feel at this moment. But I just feel dead. Because there are so many more Stephen Millers in the world. It’ll never be enough. Mick growls so loud, it practically shakes the room. He bares his canines, wanting them to be the last thing this piece of shit sees.

I’ll be coming for him tomorrow Jason can have another day off. As we are wiping down the mat I notice a group of men deep in discussion still hanging about, scars trail up their arms to their shirt sleeves. A handful even have them on their faces. They must be Blood Moon pack warriors. No one else has warriors that tall, large, and ruthless. Dad clears his throat and I get back to our task at hand and help him carry the mat inside. Once put away we head home. I wave goodbye to Hudson and Bailey and walk with dad.