Dungeon House Novel Novels & Stories

I questioned. She looked around helplessly before focusing on me again. "Well, the entire house burned down. It... It only makes sense the dungeon burned down too." "It doesn't make sense actually." I took a step towards her and she took a step back. "The dungeon was made of stone. The entire dungeon. If the house would have caught on fire, the dungeon shouldn't have burned down. And if the dungeon had somehow caught fire, the packhouse wouldn't have burned down. But funnily enough, both burned down." I took another step and she took another step back.

“You don’t have to think about that. In fact, you can remodel any place as you see fit, except my mother’s den of course. And the dungeons.” “Dungeons?” Mane Rhiannon resided in one of the floors with her mate. Chanel and Aire shared a floor. Saint and Valentino had a room on the same floor as Yves. He was yet to explore other parts of the mansion. But he knew it was too big and would take a few days to get accustomed to. “Well…it’s just a basement where we…um…you know. Well my mum likes to call it her dungeon and it stuck with us.”

I stormed down the hall to the secondary stairs and went down to the dungeon. There were no bars on the windows. No dank or exposed cement or cinder block walls. The dungeon was actually quite opulent. A sensory explosion of textures, sights, smells, and sounds. My mouth ticked up at the corner. And most definitely tastes. I could hear Synra in the connected bathroom. So I took some time and got the scene set up. She knew not to come out here until I knocked on the bathroom door. The lights were automatically set to a lower level than most normal living spaces, but I lowered them a touch more. I was feeling a might predatory tonight. I needed to chase. To hunt. To attack. To claim.

There would be a dripping sound, a dank, putrid smell, a dirt or concrete floor, a chill that wouldn’t leave the air, and heavy chains. He’d not bothered to disabuse her of that notion. The scarier the dungeon was to her, the easier it would be to get her cooperation. In reality, the dungeon was none of those things. If what he’d been told by the servants who had gone to get her belongings was true, the dungeon was nicer than her apartment in the city had been. It was done in black and a tasteful deep red with occasional splashes of other colors like purples and greens and yellows. It had been an inside joke with his previous submissives that the dungeon was the color of death, blood, and br

"Can you tell me where it is I am exactly before I choose?" "Well, you have lots of questions," He lets out a small laugh, "You're in the House of Shadows, in this particular realm each door is either a prison or a way to freedom. Don't think you are safe even if you happen to pick a door with no danger. Danger lurks in every direction here." I look at him with conviction. I can hardly believe he wanted me to pick a door that could potentially kill me, but then again he's a demon and only wants what amuses him most.

The most prominent ones however, had all and everything to do with my time spent in the dungeon. Shivers raced down my spine at the thought of it, but nothing could be more surprising than the new interior of the place. The stone walls looked higher now, and the chandeliers that were hung around the place definitely sparkled more than before. The files had a certain glow to them, one that didn't exactly feel homey to me anymore. Maybe to them, but not me. Hunter's portraits were propped up on the walls of almost all the hallways we passed, and I didn't miss Vivian's occasionally. Call me crazy, just I could swear I caught Darius fuming under each one from the corner of my eyes

The new house was everything I hadn’t realized I wanted. Bigger, better, cleaner, and… quieter than the chaos of the old mansion. Damon had insisted on a few guards only, probably still worried about the last incident with the bomb in the former house. And there was a chef now. A real chef. Which meant Damon wouldn’t be in the kitchen anymore, cooking for me.

And now I'm ready for whatever comes next. I turn toward the tunnel exit. Toward the surface. Toward the people waiting. Toward my future. But as I take the first step, something shifts. Deep in the earth. Beneath the vault. Something ancient responding to the bonding. A presence. Massive. Old. Waking. Not the stone. Something else. Something that's been sleeping under Iron Valley for centuries. And my bonding just woke it up. --- **[End of Chapter 146]**

Sitting on the ledge, I curled one knee to my chin and watched as everyone raced from the house, when it hit me. I was alone. I was never truly alone. My gaze moved toward my door, and the silence outside of it. The dungeon was located beneath the house. The door was outside, but lead to an attached basement. Jason walked from the back of the house with the man from the library with him. It looked as if he was letting him go. Why? To bring back Caterina? Or to send him back to the wolves as bargain. Either way, it left Marcus alone … in the dungeon.

His breath reeked of garlic and cheap whiskey. Damien didn’t flinch. *"Just drive."* The SUV turned down a narrow alley, the headlights illuminating a rusted metal door marked with a single symbol—a rat, its tail coiled into a crown. Ferraro’s mark. The door groaned open, revealing a yawning darkness beyond. ### **The Dungeon** The air inside was thick with the stench of mildew, blood, and something far worse—the cloying sweetness of decay. The walls wept condensation, the concrete floor slick with things Damien didn’t want to identify.