Dead Toriel Novels & Stories

“How?” “He didn’t clot properly,” Kael continued. “The flesh around the bite was darkening but not spreading.” My mind immediately went to Elara’s arm and Astra’s expression when she saw it. “Do you know what it means?” I asked. Kael shook his head. “Not yet. But Torin came back with some intel.” That caught my attention fully. “What intel?” “A few weeks ago he’d been scouting near their lands I think. And he saw one of them take a hit that should’ve killed him,” he paused. “But it didn’t, rather he got back up like it was nothing.”

He took the account seat and looked at the council with the expression of a man who had made peace with something and was no longer performing anything in either direction. Alpha Ryker opened the session. The formal record of Elias Thorne's activities took forty minutes to read. Forty minutes of a council chamber sitting in complete silence while the full scope of forty years was laid out. The deliberate falsification of Lyra Moonshard's registration. The sustained funding of operatives across multiple territories through the misappropriation of eastern border resources. The fifteen years of council membership during which he had used his position to ensure the coalition's activities were ne

Drago notified, “I will give you an estimate, you open that door, you will meet hell, what are you going to do when you are injured?” El Diablo smiled, he didn’t flinch when he was told about his wound neither did he look shocked when he was told of his doom, because one thing was for certain, this was not the end for him. “This,” he said followed by a gunshot. Drago flinched, momentarily showing his pain on his face before concealing it again as the black haired man before him walked up to him. “Now we are both bleeding,” El Diablo said before placing his gun on Drago’s temple as he stood behind him, “and you will open the door.”

"I can't forget last night's punishment. In fact, I didn't forget every single moment of spending with you in this living hell. I didn't forget every single moment of every single moment of torment. And neither will I let you forget it." "Why do you want to become an enemy of yourself? Why do you want me to show you the other side of me?" In the extremely cold pitch voice of Sikandar Shah, there was a clear warning for her. "Really, what other horrible sides are left that you are going to show me, Sikandar Shah? I want to see all of them to know to what extent you stop so low."

How did the wind blow it over when it was so heavy? Soon, my consciousness began to fade, and my eyelids grew heavier. I slowly collapsed into the pool of blood, my heartbeat slowing as time passed. I could feel my vitality slipping away. Before I died, I managed to dial a number, and I heard the sound of the door unlocking from the fingerprint lock. I assumed it was Harvey, but my eyelids no longer could stay open, fluttering shut eventually. But at my very last moment, I heard a phone ringing—and it was gradually closing in.

Yvonne asked me to focus on a beam of light on the ceiling. I concentrated on the light. After a few minutes, she asked gently, “Who are you?” “Aurora Twilight.” “Do you know Harry Chalamet?” “Yes, I do.” “No, you don’t.” “I do. I know him. No… I don’t know him.” “You don’t know him.” “I… don’t know him.”

Somewhere in that mass of bodies, Toren waited. Not beside her. Never beside her. Toren moved where grief lived now. In silence. In shadow. Wrapped in a plain dark cloak that hid his face and, more importantly, his intent. He didn’t need to see her. He didn’t need reassurance. His fated mate had died screaming at Spring River. Massacred while Sophie and Shiloh played their parts in a victory they would call necessary. Strategic. Clean. Toren had not been there, but grief had a way of making witnesses out of the living.

Torian grabbed my jaws and forced me to look at him, my vision however was blurry from how many times I was knocked against a tree trunk, I was surprised I was still conscious however that wouldn't last for long. My body trembled, not wanting to accept what was to come and neither did my heart. “Please….please, don't…do this,” I tried to plead my case, promising that if they let me go, they never had to hear from me again. Torian's deep chuckle reverberated, causing a shiver to race down my spine, “That won't be possible,” he whispered. “Those who are weak must be purged from this world because they never survive,”

When Jingle bell saw him she also jumped up on the bed. She tilted her head and looked at him curiously while he was thrashing in the guards hold. Not able to control himself anymore Tyler gave him anesthesia which made his head to feel heavy and he fell into deep slumber. Ace, Violet and Iris also reached there and watching the scene they also turned worried for him.

Third person limited (Serna's eyes) Ironfang war room, morning after Rhea stitched Lyra closed "We need to discuss succession." Commander Torvald spread a map across the table like any of them gave a shit about maps right now. "With Tarian dead and the Sleepers—" "The Sleepers are FINE." Serna didn't look up from where she was sharpening her dagger, scraping metal on whetstone loud enough to interrupt. "They're in comas." Torvald's voice went careful. "Which means we need to plan for—"