Deadly Cross Novels & Stories

"You are my little goddess! You are the goddess of spell!" In tears, she closed her eyes, and began using her final spell at Krulisa. "I, Catherine Cross, daughter of Hector and Victoria Cross, the goddess of spell, curse you with the spell of death! You will die just like you killed every innocent soul out there. Your own people will betray you. And when a war arises, you will perish once and for all! The moment you lay your hands on the last immortal heart, you will face DEATH!" Krulisa raised her sword again. And finally, pierced it though Catty's chest again.

Carter braced himself for impact, watching the stick come down toward his skull in what felt like painfully slow motion. Dallas tore free of the elders all at once, ripping the grey-haired one's grip clean off his throat and throwing the other two aside, already shouting, already running. "Stay the hell away from him—" But he never made it there. Because halfway across the throne room, the old man suddenly clutched at his own chest, gasping and choking for breath. His eyes rolled back white; the walking stick fell from his hand and skittered across the marble. And then the mighty Alpha Aurelius Cross collapsed to the floor, dead.

She knew too well. There was no turning back now. If she ran, her family would pay. If she resisted, Cross would make sure to destroy every inch of what remained of her happiness. So she straightened her shoulders, took a breath that burned in her chest, and walked toward the sanctuary. The heavy church doors creaked open, and all heads turned. There he was. Cross stood at the altar, tall and poised in a black tailored suit that screamed power and vengeance. His smile was like a polished dagger—gleaming, beautiful, but deadly. He looked every bit the handsome groom, but only Marceline could see the truth in his eyes.

Sandra's hand shook as she pointed at Queenie's urn and photo. "What… what is that?" "Xavier, are you insane? Just to fight with me, you'd curse our daughter to be dead?" I took the death certificate from under the urn and shoved it in her face. "Open your eyes and read each word. Look at it and tell me what it says!" She took the paper with trembling hands, her eyes scanning Queenie's name and the time of death written in stark black and white.

“Elena Cross formally charged in bribery scandal.” CROSS FAMILY: BAD SEEDS ALL AROUND A SCANDAL FOR THE AGES: CROSS FAMILY SECRETS ROTTING GOLD: THE SECRETS OF THE CROSS FAMILY On and on it goes. Then Sasha. Her name. Her photo. The banner below it reads in blunt, merciless font: Sasha Moore, pronounced dead. Fallen off a building's roof. Investigation ongoing. I thought she had run but instead… She is dead. Dead. I grip the edge of the bench so hard my knuckles split. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “No, that’s—” My voice cracks.

They were sentenced to ten years in prison, and their business went bust. Our mother was a headstrong woman. When she was told of her punishment, the woman blacked out. Her mind was never the same since then. … After the Landtons took Melanie back, she was trapped in a villa on the outskirts. Three months of torture later, the demon named Jonathan ended her life. The Landtons told everyone she died of illness and buried her somewhere haphazardly. The body was found by a janitor who cleaned the place every month. The whole villa was covered in a foul stench, but Jonathan carried on with his life like the smell did not exist. It was something straight out of a horror movie.

“You’re going to fix it.” She almost laughed again. “Fix it? Damon, there is no fixing this. The Crosses are everywhere—media, law, finance. The only thing to do now is ride it out and pray they get bored.” But even as she said it, she didn’t believe it. The Cross family didn’t get bored. They got even.

He immediately called Sofia’s closest friend, who was her classmate from Harvard University, Rachel Bennett. "Rachel, where is Sofia?" There was a pause on the other end before Rachel’s cold voice came through. "She’s gone and left the country. Sold off all her assets. Immigrated. Dante, are you satisfied now?" Dante felt as if he had been struck by lightning. "What? When did she—" "This afternoon," Rachel said, her voice dripping with mockery. "And her mother died last month. But you should know that already, shouldn’t you? After all, you’re the one who killed her."

It tries to send the memory through her knees, her hands, her throat. Maya lets it arrive. Then she steps left. The dead follow sound and motion. They do not think. They do not plan. They do not fake low and attack high. They are patient appetite in a ruined suit. “Behind?” she whispers. Clear within twenty feet, LUS says. “Lovely.” The dead man reaches. Maya lets him commit, shifts inside the arc, hooks her foot behind his ankle, and drives the crowbar hard into the side of his knee.

There was a deep animosity between them—a history neither of them was willing to let go of. Then something shifted in the room. Julian’s face twisted into something darker—something much more dangerous. I couldn’t understand what had just happened, but it was clear that things were escalating. I barely had time to process it before the door swung open, and the voice I feared most filled the air. “You shouldn’t have come here, Damian.” I spun around, heart hammering in my chest. There, standing in the doorway, was Richard Cross. Alive. Impossible. I was frozen in place, disbelief flooding my senses. My mind scrambled to understand how this could be possible. I had seen him die. He’d been buri