Dorian Havilliard Novels & Stories

Not just a howl. A signal. From the marsh below, answering howls rose—fast, closing. Rogues. Lucian turned, teeth bared. Cassius lifted his weapon. And Dorian’s half-shifted head snapped toward the darkness—as if something there had called his actual name. A woman’s whisper rode the wind. “Come home.” And Dorian moved—straight toward the shadows. 1245

Chapter 1: The Initial Consultation Thalia Voss stood in the marble bathroom of her penthouse, staring at her own reflection as she brushed her teeth for the second time that morning. The toothbrush moved mechanically. Dorian had already left for the airport before she woke up. There had been no note, only the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the pillow beside hers and a half-empty cup of coffee on the kitchen island. The same routine as always. He would be gone for five days this time. Maybe six.

I murmur, settling lower into the bed, hoping I could disappear. Dorian laughs, loud and annoying, stepping into the room. “I gotta tell Cassian! Our big bro’s gonna flip when he hears Vory’s got a boyfriend!” “Boyfriend?” I say, voice cracking, sitting up a bit. “Wait, how many brothers you got, Vorian?” Vorian rolls his eyes, rubbing his face. “Two. Dorian here, and Cassian, the older one. Both a pain in my ass.” Dorian grins, flopping onto the bed’s edge like he owns it. “I am Dorian, the charming brother,” he says, sticking out a hand. “Nice to meet you, mystery guy. But who are you?”

“But like I said… I’m used to it. These wounds? They’ll fade in time. The bruises will vanish. But her need for violence—she’ll always find something new. Someone new.” Dorian looked up again, this time locking eyes with himself in the mirror. A bitter smile curled at the edge of his lips. “And when she does… maybe I’ll finally be gone by then.” The gates of the Aihara Estate loomed tall and imposing under the veil of night, their black ironwork twisted like serpents. Rows of sleek luxury cars lined the private road, glinting beneath the golden floodlights that illuminated the long drive toward the grand hall. Dorian stepped out of the matte black limousine, his posture straight despite the

Triggering the machine without preparation was reckless, bordering on catastrophic, but perhaps it could still serve Vivienne’s purposes. She glanced at the faint reflection in the polished surface of a nearby mirror, her gaze lingering on her own features. Sharp cheekbones, dark eyes that betrayed no fear. She had spent years preparing for this moment, navigating her uncle’s cryptic games and unraveling his web of secrets. Everything Lord Haverstone had left behind—the journal, the device, even the medallion—was part of a larger design. But unlike Emma, Vivienne understood the stakes. She was no pawn. She was a queen, ready to seize the board.

Blood… I was poisoned After moments of me tossing on the ground crying out in pain begging for Lilly to send in help I heard a tap on the door Finally help came… Or so I thought anyway The tap came in twice and I wondered who it was on the other end I saw how slowly Lilly walked up to the door trying to see who it was And when she finally heard the tap, she opened up I wasn’t so sure of who I saw, but the voice sounded so familiar She hugged the figure that came in And soon rather than later I got a glimpse of who it was Dorian… They had this all planned My heart sank the moment he walked in I felt so helpless as I they stood before me The very two persons I had trusted and hoped on spending

I pat his back. “I know you are right, my dear, but I cannot get rid of the guilt within me,” he says, “What happened to that poor child is because of my impatience.” “It was bound to happen regardless-“Tavers is interrupted when the door swings open loudly. “What is this I hear about Kimarhi and some woman getting into it at the Banquet?” Dorian’s voice booms. Hot-headed and arrogant, I have never been able to find any liking towards him. Simply the thought of him makes my blood boil. I have seen how he watches Kimarhi. It’s disgusting.

Racing towards my teams trap I didn’t notice when he appeared Infront of me, skidding to a stop I dropped down and narrowly avoided his clutches, I rolled to the side jumped up and got close enough to my team to know that he was surrounded. Our target Prince Dagon was a ruthless killer and thousands of years old, not that he showed it. I braced myself for his attack, but he paused and looked at me, confused. “Why do you run from me? You are my Bride.”

The Villain I'm wiping down the counter at the diner when all chatter ceases expeditiously. I look up to find the reason for the lack of breath from most of the patrons standing at the doorway, angry green eyes fixed on me. I unconsciously gulped as he stalked closer, eyes narrowed. "Aren't you forgetting something?" I looked around, every eye in the diner was fasten on us. "Um.. no?" I said unsurely. He came up to the counter, his arms flexing under his shirt as he grips the marble. "We made a deal, princess. Don't tell me you go back on your promises."

Her presence steels my nerves. We reach the clearing. The cave yawns open like a hungry mouth, and the enemy waits. Rogues. Dozens. No masks. No mercy. They form a living barricade around the cave mouth like sentries of hell. And Dorian stands among them. He looks different. Taller. Pale. Something… inhuman. “You’re late,” he drawls. “Touch him and you die,” I bark to my warriors. “He’s mine.” Dorian raises the perfume vial and sprays it across his neck like it’s cologne, not corruption.