Drawn Death Novels & Stories

I nodded, stunned and also saddened at the thought that one day Connor will outlive me and fall for someone worth his beautiful appearance. Will he ever remember me when, one day, I grow old and die? I don't ever want to leave his side.

Punch is who I am and who I’ll always be. “So if it’s all right with my Alpha, I guess I need to add a third Blood Card. Hugo Casillas. For the crimes of shooting Kent “Chunk” Larson, aiding and abetting if not outright killing your own brother just to set me up… Making babies you had no intention of raising, and generally being a shit example of what a shifter should be, I hereby sentence you to death. Oh and Reeve uh… Whatever your name is, I can’t even imagine how many people you’ve killed so, you’re just fucked. You’re on our territory which makes me your judge, jury and executioner,” I say, shrugging as Doze laughs.

I told him and he shook his head. "Be nice babe," Miguel stated and I told him of course I'd be. I picked up Rai and set him on my lap as he watched me curiously. I felt an interesting feeling of being drained when I held him but, unlike a normal person I could refill whatever life force he took from me being the son of a God. I glanced at Miguel and knew with him being Life he wouldn't have sensed it. "You're not a nice boy," the child stated with accusing eyes. I chuckled and said,"I am Death, little one and am nice to those I chose to be." Rai blinked rapidly and fussed a bit before pulling off the tiara on his head and laying down against my chest.

“Fitting if you ask me.” "Brought you food," I added, smirking as I nudged the bag a little closer with the toe of my boot. I glanced at the metal bowl I’d left them when I tied them up. It was dry now with not a single drop of water left inside. "Guess you must have been thirsty." Drew shifted slightly, his shoulders barely moving under the tight rope. “He’s dying,” he rasped, nodding toward his buddy slumped beside him. “He’s not even breathing right. I don’t think food would do shit. He needs a fucking hospital.”

Tyson When I opened the door, there stood Drew, smug and pompous on the other side. I wanted to end my career with him as my final kill, but his life wasn’t mine to take. I stepped aside and let him in before any words were spoken. I didn’t want anyone to hear anything they shouldn’t. He looked around and frowned. “So, where’s my flower? Shouldn’t she be here?” “First of all, fuck you. Second, she’s not your flower; she belongs to me now. The dead body in my tub says so.”

As much as Cadence hated Holland, held her partially responsible for Drew’s death and for changing all of their lives forever, she looked down into the eyes of the monster beneath her and realized she was causing her to suffer excruciating pain. It was over; Cadence had won. There was no reason to prolong it any more. Keeping her left hand firmly planted on Holland’s throat, she reached back with her right hand, drew the Glock from her leg holster, placed the gun against Holland’s chest directly above her heart and pulled the trigger.

Celeste whispers, her minty breath brushing against my cheek as she pulls the phone away. I still don’t understand. Why show me this? “He didn’t kill his father,” I say quietly, the words fragile on my tongue. Drew laughs. “Of course he didn’t,” he says with a twisted grin. “He’s an idiot. A pathetic fool.” He steps closer again. From the corner of my eye, I see Celeste dragging a white bottle across the floor, pulling something metallic from it—something sharp. Like a syringe… Drew leans in, voice like poison.

She added but I didn’t say anything. “she right.” I heard a familiar voice say behind me, Death. “You too?” I ask. “Give me that little guy.” He said and cruch down to take War. “He is dying.” He said that made Peace and I looked at each other frowning then looked at him. “What?” I am confused. “Devren is dying, I found his body---” he said like it’s nothing that made my eyes wide. “F*ck.” I said and stood up and ran away towards my car.

Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs. She opened one article. Then another. Photos. Police tape. Flashing lights. A covered body bag. And then— A grainy image. Draven’s name circled in red. A timeline connecting him to “multiple suspicious deaths.” Speculations. Accusations. “Crime lord.” “Underworld king.” “Silent executioner.” Her throat burned. Draven wouldn’t… Would he? Her thoughts collided violently. She remembered the warehouse. The gun. The blood. His cold voice ordering cleanups.

That afternoon, Jalvorn Cemetery was draped in a blanket of grey, shrouded by a drizzling rain that cast a gloomy pall over everyone's hearts. Two figures walked slowly up the stone steps. Their faces were blank, but their eyes were heavy with excruciating grief. Dad clutched the tiny urn closely as he made his way to the largest, most luxurious plot in the cemetery. I looked closer and let out a bitter smile. I never expected that my final resting place would be vastly superior to anywhere I had lived while alive.