Derek Storm Novels Novels & Stories

Derek's pov There are very few things in my life that don’t make sense, mostly because I don’t allow them to, and yet somehow Lena Carter has managed to exist in a space that refuses to stay organized, like every time I think I’ve figured her out she does something that doesn’t fit, and now I’m standing outside the library longer than necessary pretending I’m here for something else when I already know exactly why I haven’t walked away. She’s sitting at the far end, exactly where she always is, surrounded by books she probably doesn’t need, her head slightly tilted as she reads, one hand resting against the page like she’s holding it in place even though there’s no reason to, and there’s som

Derek swallowed hard, guilt and longing tangling inside him. “You helped me through the darkest parts of my life,” she continued, her eyes holding his steadily. “Let me pay that back now. Tell me what’s wrong.” He drew in a long breath. For a moment, he wanted to tell her everything—about Aurelia, about the mate bond he couldn’t claim, about the war inside me. But he couldn’t. Not with her. Not when it wasn’t fair. So he told her the part he could. “There’s a dispute,” Derek said finally. “Over the uncharted lands. Between my pack and… Draven’s.”

Derek muttered, chest heaving, his fist clenched so tight his nails dug into his skin. His red eyes locked onto Knox like a predator that just missed its prey. “Relax, Alpha Derek,” Knox said, rolling his shoulders lazily. “People are watching. Be the strong Alpha you claim to be.” “You’re dead.” “A ghost can’t die, right?” Knox smirked. “But we’ll see.” Derek tightened his grip on the bag—the one holding Lena’s things. “That’s not why we’re here, Alpha Derek,” Knox continued. “We came for coffee… and for that.” He gestured toward the bag.

“Yes, Father.” Derek snarled quietly in annoyance—he couldn’t go either. His head would be on a pike before he crossed the border. But he could wait not wait, knowing Soon enough they would have Syzar trapped in their mercy. And Soon enough he would be dead, Before he could even smell the betrayal from within his own court. That thought alone made Derek smirk with victory. He couldn’t wait for the banquet, he would wait in shadows till it’s time to attack. Little did they know what was waiting for them.

"You have no right to read them!" But Derek kept reading, his eyes getting wider with each word. The smile on his face grew more wicked and dangerous. "Well, well, well," Derek said, his voice like silk over steel. "So YOU'RE the mystery writer everyone's been going crazy over." My blood turned to ice. "The one who writes those incredibly detailed stories about guys' bodies," Derek continued, reading more. "About touching them, kissing them, wanting them..." "Stop!" I begged, my face burning with shame. "Please stop reading!"

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.

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​​.

He asked with a smile and she nodded, Damien laughed and shook his head. “You are so childish. Don't worry, you will get over it.” “I hope so.” She mumbled and drank out of her juice.” “You know you are just overreacting.” Damien said and she glared at him. They both suddenly heard noise from the living room and they exchanged looks, Damien was about to stand up to check what was going on when Derek stormed in. He picked up a glass on the table and threw it at Damien but it ducked and it hit the wall. Audrey gasped and looked at Derek, he looked so annoyed and pained.