Descendants Mal Ben Novels & Stories

“Yeah, I’d like to know that too. What were you thinking?” “Apparently, I was thinking like an idiot,” Maloi muttered. She turned to the door. “I better go,” she added. “My cousin needs to know he’s about to be the next Ben Dawson.” The name dropped like a dead body on the floor. Everyone froze. “Maloi,” Cillian said, rising to stop her. She didn’t turn around. Just walked out. The door slammed behind her. Benita sat there in the ringing quiet, hands clenched in her lap. Her pulse thundered in her ears, but her face was calm—too calm.

a voice drawled from the darkness. Emergency red lights kicked in, casting long, bloody shadows across the floor. My father—Don Malrec—stood on the observation deck, his face twisted into a mask of smug cruelty. Beside him was Garron Blackmere, his broken wrist wrapped in a dirty bandage, eyes wide with a coward’s hunger. Malrec held a small, black detonator. His thumb hovered over the red button.

“Now listen -” “What you’re doing is wrong Gabriel. These descendants pose no threat to you or to humans. Quite the contrary in fact.” It was that word again. Descendant. Descendant of what, he wondered. “The way you think of yourself is also wrong, but it is not your fault. You should have been educated in our ways. You should have been mentored, although your hunting is quite unique. I’ve never come across a vampire that tries to kill, what he thinks, are his own kind. Not in all these years.”

He had turned away then, a Beta with a secret that could get him executed, and began the slow, agonizing climb to the High Council. --- Present Day Back in the apartment, Malcolm’s phone chimed. It was a notification from an unknown number. He swiped to see the photo of Lucien Varkas and Katalina on the balcony—the very flash Lucien had dismissed as a pool reflection. Malcolm smiled, a cold, predatory expression. "Welcome home, Genesis," he whispered to the empty room. "Let’s burn the empire down."

"My mommy's a whore that still misses my dad. End of discussion." They were an hour into the hike when Ben lost his shit. "Stop," Ben growled, halting abruptly. Malia bumped into him, her eyes widening. The sky darkened with incoming rain clouds. "You think you can just run your mouth about your mother like that? Disrespect me? A tiny, little white bitch like you ain't gonna talk shit in my house after I marry your mom." Malia's heart raced, outrage mixing with a forbidden thrill. There it was. Her in. She just had to push a little more and he'd call the whole thing off himself.

Then, turning to the man, he smiled and added, "Uncle Ben, this is Dean." Hearing the name "Uncle Ben," Dean’s heart skipped a beat, his expression betraying a flicker of unease and alertness that he couldn't hide. The mention of the man's name hit him like a bolt of lightning, slicing through his thoughts and piercing the deepest corners of Dean Harrison’s memory. Benjamin Winston. The name echoed in his mind, instantly triggering a discomfort that made him feel like he was drowning in an unfamiliar yet deeply unsettling past.

I just finished reading the last book when I started to write Descent for real! The title when this was still a draft was actually ‘Can’t Help Falling (In Love With You)’ because I was listening to the same song only the dark version at the time. But I got annoyed because I felt it was too freaking long to be a title. For a time, I settled calling the story "Fall from Grace" in my head but it still felt wrong... so when I searched for a synonym, the meaning of the word descent.. clicked; it feels like it perfectly sums up the entire plot.

Her other voice piped in: “It’s giving ‘please ruin me, ma’am.’” I sighed through my nose and let it go. For now. Malik also ignored her and spoke, “He’s twenty-two. Mixed background. Parents died in an accident. Raised by his grandfather, who passed two years ago. College student. Clean record. No gang ties. No power affiliations. Two part-time jobs. Quiet life.” I blinked. “So... he’s normal normal? Like a civilian?" "Exactly.” I blinked. "Wow, godfather went all out this time, I really gotta hand it to him. Even from the grave he still finds ways to piss you off." Nessa giggled, skipping happily.

The business needed me. The investigator’s voice cut through my reflections. "Malcolm resisted being separated from his brother. But his father threatened him with the lives of both Damian and their mother. Eventually, Malcolm had no choice but to comply. From the age of 13, he was raised to take over his father’s illegal businesses. He excelled in chemistry and learned how to manufacture drugs. Despite the separation, Malcolm retained a deep affection for his brother. He believed it was his fault he couldn’t protect Damian."

I giggle to myself and see Malachi watching me and notice he can't seem to take his eyes off me, as if he's in a trance. "You're going to make the best mother, Luna," Malachi says softly, but loud enough for all to hear. Marley looks at me and smiles. "Um... Chloe, how did you find this man?" She asks, then sheepishly looks at Ben. "Sorry, honey. He’s easy on the eyes that's for sure." Marley admits. Ben looks at Malachi from top to bottom, as if he’s contemplating his chances of winning a fight. "I'm not going to fight that man for you looking at him; he looks like he could rip me to pieces," Ben says, laughing, and making everyone crack up.