Derek Storm Novels Novels & Stories

Diva's POV The storm raged outside, tearing through the streets of Houndway like a loose beast. Lightning sliced across the sky, illuminating the Blackfang manor in strobing shadows. Thunder boomed behind it, causing the stone walls to shake as I gripped the glass at the window. Rain streamed down the glass, reflecting the chaos inside me. Derek had left hours earlier to hunt Ronan's spies. He hadn't returned. A black knot roiled in my stomach.

And now suddenly this soft-spoken, wide-eyed stranger was bleeding in his room and getting defended like he was some precious jewel? He clenched his jaw harder. “Fine,” he muttered. “You want me to play nice? Watch me make his life a nightmare.” He stormed down the hall toward his room, only to stop outside Leo’s new door. The light was still on. Derek didn’t knock. He just stood there, glaring. “I don’t care who you are,” he whispered to himself. “You won’t replace me.” And then he turned and walked off, eyes burning. ---

Brock was still growling low in his chest, standing over the body of one of the men who had come at me, his claws dripping, his eyes locked on the last movement in the room—just in case. Joe was dragging another out the front door, not gentle about it. I turned slowly, scanning the space. And there he was. Derek. Standing at the center of the room like a storm that had just passed through. His chest was rising and falling fast, his shirt torn at the collar, soaked with sweat and blood. His knuckles were split open, raw and red. One hand still curled like it hadn’t let go of the last punch. At his feet— Pierce.

-------- The storm continued raging outside, but inside the tent, the three of us had entered a whole new level of depravity. I was still trembling from the previous rounds, my body covered in dried cum, when Derek reached into his bag and pulled out something that made my eyes widen in shock. His service pistol. The black handgun gleamed in the dim lantern light. Ryan smirked beside him, clearly in on whatever they were planning. “You wanted crazy, didn’t you, baby girl?” Derek said, his voice low and dangerous. “You wanted us to break you.” I nodded, breathing fast, equal parts terrified and insanely turned on.

But during storms, Derek would simply lock Asher inside the shed, but other times he'd force Asher to be outside and train so that he could learn how to be resistant and powerful in any situation. Asher would get sick often until he wouldn't anymore because his body had developed a strong immune system over time. Derek is dead now. Asher killed him with his own hand. But the storms remind him of that now, even when he is safe and free. His fear of getting struck by lightning and the sound of the storm when he is outside is terrifying. But thankfully, or unfortunately, he has gotten used to being close to death to a point where he doesn't fear it anymore, which is what Derek wanted.

Due to that attack Derek turned out to be a Rogue. He grew up and from then, gathered others who had no pack. He formed a rogue pack. Their mission was to attack packs that had Slaves, kill the Alphas and free the slaves. That was what he had been doing for a while. “Sir!” and that was how Derek was brought to reality. “Did you get him?” Derek asked. “No sir” the man answered.

Warriors‌ m‍ove⁠​d urg⁠en‌tly t​hrough the mans‌io​n​ check​ing f⁠or survivo⁠rs whi‍l​e Derek stormed thro‌ugh‍ t​‍h​e chaos l​ike pure‍ fu​r⁠y itself. “Repo‍rt!‌” he barked. C⁠aleb appeared im‍mediatel⁠y. “We kill‍‍ed most of th‍em. A few escaped.” Der⁠ek⁠’s eyes wer‍​e gl⁠o⁠wing now‌. His w​olf wa‌s dan‍g​ero​us‌ly c⁠l‍o‍se t‌o th​e surface​​.

Colt started forward. "Ah, ah." Derek pulled out a detonator. Small. Black. His thumb rested on the button. "See this? There are three more explosives planted around your compound. One near the garage. One by the dorms. One in the bar where all your brothers are having their little meeting." My legs nearly gave out. "Derek, please—" "Please?" His voice turned sharp. "You left me, Jenna. You stole my car. My money. You made me look weak." He took a step closer. "Do you know what happens to men who look weak? They lose everything."

"Why would I mock a woman who just handed me the keys to the kingdom?" I pressed my back against the cold stone. "I don't know what you're talking about." He stopped inches from me. He smelled of rain, expensive whiskey, and something feral—like cedar and blood. He reached out, his rough thumb tracing the tear track on my cheek. The touch sent a shockwave of heat through me that had nothing to do with the bond and everything to do with fear... and attraction. "Drail is an idiot," Derek murmured, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "He thinks rejecting you makes him strong. He thinks breeding with that snake gives him power."

Joanne started to understand Nick's question. "I'm not 100% sure. If it is true....then that may explain Derek's turnaround. He's dating Amanda." said Nick. He then took his phone out and texted in his MNS group chat. 'Emergency! MNS meeting! Spy update on Derek! Tonight!' texted Nick. As evening approached, Derek was dressed in a fancy maroon suit and black shoes. He stepped out of the Quinton Mansion and drove off in his new Rimac Nevera, heading towards Townsville Hillside condo.