Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Pdf Free Novels & Stories

Cold. I pressed my hand over my mouth to muffle a cough from the thick air. Carefully stepping back, my heel hit something. A shelf. A loud thud hit the floor behind me. “Damn it…” I muttered under my breath, fumbling to pull out my phone. I turned on the flashlight and aimed it toward the object. It was a book. Old. Worn. A diary. I bent down and picked it up. The name on the first page stopped my breath cold.

UNKNOWN DIARYYY, Just her mere presence in my vicinity, and I can already feel myself becoming strongerrr. I saw her naked body today, Diary… she was taking a shower, wanted to get rid of all the dirt she had on her from packing or so she said. I could see her through the walls, Diary —lots of demons like me do this to unsuspecting girls all over the world who manage to catch our attention, you know? — And you have no idea how I wished she could sense my presence, but I’m not that strong yet!

He mused. It was understandable that it might belong to Zoriana, Liam's girlfriend. But what Owen couldn't understand was how it happened to be in Liam's custody, afterall people keep diaries for their own personal interest, to keep their secrets and he didn't think Zori would keep a diary if she had wanted the world to know what's in it. Not restraining himself any longer, he flip over to the next page and while reading through, he got stunned on discovering its content. DEAR Future Husband,

I spun around in the black desk chair watching as the white walls mixed with the blur of my Colton Dixon poster and the purple of my roommates tapestry. I stopped myself staring back down at the bright pink diary laying flat on the dark wood of the desk. My mother had gotten it for me as a going away gift to "reflect on my choices while away at college" but I don't think we have the same idea of what good and bad decisions are anymore. I opened the cover revealing the thin gray lines running down the first page and grabbed a pen from the cup on the left hand side of the desk.

Each step I was pulled seemed a mile; each moment between the thud of my heartbeats took eons…and yet, my brain was working as feverishly as it ever had. My hands clutched at the arm around my neck, my nails digging into the flesh, and the pressure against my windpipe increased painfully. Part of my mind was screaming in terror, but there was another part that remained perfectly calm. Pay attention to where he’s taking you… There’s another one here, waiting… Stop struggling and wait for your moment, for a weak spot to exploit… I allowed the man to move me further into the alley with a minimum amount of struggle on my part, as I attempted to adjust my eyes to the darkness. Not that the street

And worst of all, he was holding my diary. My heart slammed against my ribs. The diary was private — pages filled with my thoughts, my fears, my confusion about the mate bond, the new abilities, and everything I had never told anyone. Seeing it in his hands made my stomach drop. Without thinking, I lurched forward immediately, aiming to grab it from his hand. My bare feet slipped slightly on the damp floor, and instead of reaching the diary, I ended up falling straight into his arms. My towel loosened, slipping down one shoulder as I landed against his chest. My hair was still wet, strands sticking to my neck and shoulders, and my skin glistened from the shower. The sudden closeness between

“Oh, you guys are not going to believe this. Our little spy is a massive freak.” I adjusted my posture, holding the diary up to the ambient light of the limo. “‘If he pushed me against the bookshelves, I wouldn’t even fight back,’” I read, my voice dripping with dark amusement. “‘I want him to take control. I want him to rip this stupid sweater off me. I can practically feel his hands gripping my thighs, bruising my skin, pushing his huge dick inside my tight and wet aching pussy while he whispers my name…’”

Only one person had ever called me that. Could it be him???? Ice slid down my spine. I tore the envelope open with shaking fingers, unfolded the single sheet inside, and read: Little Thief, You have five hours to return every damn thing you removed from my mansion at 47 Hawthorne Lane. If the items are not restored (undamaged and in full) prepare to face the consequences of your actions. Regards, Leonardo Blackwood.

If Tariq discovered it outside that room, he would know I had read it, and there would be no escaping his wrath. I moved quickly and slipped into a pair of jeans and a sweater before making my way back into the bathroom. I reached behind the cabinet. My fingers brushed over the diary's worn leather cover. I pulled it out and clutched it to my chest for a moment as I took a deep breath. Every page, every word, weighed heavily on me. This book held the truth and I was bound by it now. My life has changed forever by the dark secrets it contained.

Yet, there was an unmistakable presence that lingered behind. My eyes immediately landed on the disarray of belongings scattered around—a half-folded sweater draped over a chair, a pen precariously close to rolling off the edge of the desk, and a small leather book shoved clumsily behind a lamp. As I stepped closer, curiosity got the best of me. I pulled the book out, brushing away a thin layer of dust that had settled on top. It was a diary—Reya's diary. My heart dropped. I opened it carefully, flipping through the pages filled with notes from class, doodles of flowers and strange symbols, and the margins packed with her thoughts—snippets of poetry, quotes she adored, and random observation