Dorian Pavus Novels & Stories

“Now if you don’t mind, get the fuck out off my sight, I have better place to be.” Violet’s expression was twisted in fury as I walked away from her. I pushed the restroom door open and stepped back into the glow of the banquet. I scanned the room and spotted Dorian standing among a small circle of men, each of them impeccably dressed. He looked like he was born for this world—stoic, polished, powerful. There wasn’t a trace of emotion on his face.

POV: Dorian "My name is Dorian," he said, and his voice came out steady, which was the single greatest performance of his life. She looked at him with those dark eyes that had been reading him since a corridor on the fourteenth floor and found nothing. No recognition, no soul pull, no reaching quality. Just a woman looking at a man she had never seen before trying to understand why her legs had stopped working and why his arm around her felt like something her body recognized before her mind had any opinion on the matter.

He had messy brown curls, and his features were strong and handsome, but his most striking feature was his eyes—as green as an Irish forest after a storm. "Are you his owner?" I handed him a tissue. "Be careful when you walk him. The old factory district is full of rusted fences." The man took the tissue but didn't wipe his face. He just stared at me. "I'm Dorian. Dorian Ashford," he said, holding out his hand. A roguish but charming smile played on his lips, his Irish accent thick. "Thanks for saving Zeus. You have steady hands, doc." "Just part of the job," I said, politely shaking his hand. His touch was warm and dry. "That will be fifty dollars."

When I stepped outside, a bitter breeze slipped under the hem of my dress- but I didn’t shiver. I found Darius already seated beneath a vine-covered pergola, a long stone table before him, sipping black coffee like it was a ritual. The view behind him stretched across mist-covered hills. He wore slate grey today, no tie again, and sleeves rolled to his forearms. He was clean-cut and unreadable, making him look less like a groom and more like a ruler. Two other men flanked him. One I recognised. Cassian Ward- his legal counsel, strategist, political fixer, rumour-spreader. He was a clever and ruthless man who was rumoured to have bankrupted an entire dynasty with a single forged contract.

“The bastard even refused me entry to my own daughter’s funeral and kept you as far away from me as he could.” I stared down at the plates, wondering how my life might have been different. “I wish you could have gotten to me. Those years were hell.” His gaze locked onto me, his brow furrowed. “I tried. I lost over a dozen men trying, half of them to the man lying in this house.” My eyes widened. “Domenico?” He nodded. “He was younger then, still working his way up. The anger in him…there is good reason they call him la Bestia, mia bella.”

I just wanted to test his patience," Dorian reassured me, and i questioned myself. Am i a toy to them? Is this guy serious right now? Shivering, I remained silent, i felt so many emotions all together. Extending his hand, he introduced himself, "I'm Dorian but you can call me Dory." There was silence as I hesitated to take his hands. Slowly, he withdrew his hand. "I apologize for not introducing myself at the wedding. Lucas gave me a task to handle that's why i couldn't make it. I know he did it on

"There is someone who helps me. He is Mr. Fernandes." Diana followed where George pointed, and it turned out to be directed at the man currently driving their ship. "Thank you Mr. Fernandes for your help," George said earnestly. Fernandes, the man who also knew the murderer of Alpha Stevan's father, bowed respectfully when he saw Diana. All the information George had gotten, including everything about Pack Delonix, had come from that man. He was a former Pack Delonix member who had escaped on the day Alpha Stevan's father was shot. He was the only witness who clearly saw the incident.

For them. They were coming through faster now. The lost. The murdered. The forgotten. Spirits with unfinished hunger. Some whispered. Some screamed. Some laughed as they rose. Allowed them to rise, to stand, to come back for what they wanted to come back to. To get what they wanted and what they deserved. But one was silent. Always silent. Dorian. Sienna’s father. The man that I believed, I loved. He had been dead for years. Not hidden. Not erased. Just gone, peacefully, stubbornly, still.

“I believe we can create a better game, Dorian.” Dorian’s playful smile grew, revealing his blackened teeth. He took a step towards Darkous, his back slightly crooked as he stood over an inch smaller. Dorian had been abandoned as a child, leaving him alone in a vast wilderness on an uncharted dimension. The immortal had spent over a hundred years in solitude, living amongst the beasts of the realm. Darkous had found him on a scouting mission, instantly becoming friends with the feral immortal. Although Dorian had been in hell for over a century he remained feral, relying on his animalistic traits. Dorian had gone insane, slowly losing his mind. And yet, his knowledge was vast; matching his b