Elias At Salome Novels & Stories

"I won't let you do this. I won't let you sell the company, or ruin what we have together. I deserve better than that, Damon, and you know it." Damon looked at me, his eyes wide with surprise. "Elysia," he said. "I didn't know you felt that way." I stood my ground, feeling the fire burning inside me. "Well, now you do," I said. "And I won't let you ruin me anymore." "Please, Damon, explain to me why you did this," I begged, my voice trembling with emotion. Damon's phone rang, interrupting the conversation, and he quickly answered it, whispering into the receiver. I watched as he hung up and turned to me. "I'm sorry, Elysia, but I have to go," he said, his tone apologetic.

He dropped the phone as Claus strode straight to Emily and hugged her. He and Nimueh looked at each other with sudden action. He mouthed 'What was that?' but she just shrugged. He gestured to her to leave the two. Nimueh smiled and picked his phone. *** Claus pulled away from his sudden embrace and glanced straight to Emily who just looked away. He took a deep sigh and moved his fingers to her chin. “Tell me what happened. I just noticed Nimueh's call when I went home. I left my phone there.”

My skin already burned with restless need, a slow fire that had been smoldering since the last time I left this place marked and aching. Elias stood at the front in his crisp white robes, hands clasped around the open Bible. His voice carried steady and measured as he read scripture, every word measured for reverence. But his eyes found me almost immediately. Once. Twice. Then they stayed—locked on the shadowed corner where I sat. His pupils dilated, dark and hungry, betraying the calm he tried to project. I crossed my legs slowly, deliberately, letting the fabric ride higher until smooth thigh gleamed in the candlelight. His throat worked visibly. He stumbled over a single word mid-sentence

He was the only one who mourned for her. He was young and powerless back then, but how about now? He looked at Elisia and saw hope in her eyes. For some reason, he loved being close to her. He searched for the woman who returned him to life, but he didn't even try to look for his mate. And what's worst, he slept with her, a demon princess. "Can you try to look for her? We still have time. Maybe dying was not the only way to save you." Elisia said.

Elias fucked her slowly at first, savoring every inch, then harder, his hands gripping her hips as he claimed her. “Look at me,” he commanded. Liora’s eyes met his as he pounded into her, the wooden frame creaking with every powerful thrust. She came again, harder this time, her pussy clenching around his cock. Elias groaned and buried himself deep, flooding her with the first of many loads. He stayed inside her for a long time, gently stroking her painted skin. “Welcome home, my muse,” he whispered. “You’re never leaving.” ---

Sometimes, the static sparked so intensely it hurt my eyes. I finally snapped, swatting away his hand as he reached for me, and demanded: "Who are you?" "Elias." "Send me home." "Is this revenge?" "What are you talking about? Why did you bring me here? How do you know my name?" "Elias Reyes." "How do you know my name?" "This is boring." "......." "How about trying something else? Like threatening to kill me." "What...?" He took a big step toward me, and I flinched backward. He hesitated, then slowly looked down at the distance I had retreated. Then he laughed.

I must've done something wrong in my past life, to deserve a life this cruel. But there's no way anyone deserves this, so why me? "Elisia!" Papa speaks, cutting me out of my horrific flashbacks. My chest rises up and down heavily, absolutely terrified for what my soul might have to endure tonight. I can't do this, not again. "Papa-" I couldn't find the strength in me to finish my sentence after he started taking long, strong, and menacing steps towards me. His cold hand clutches itself onto my wrist harshly, and pulls me towards kitchen.

"You think you can play the silent martyr and Cillian will eventually come crawling back to save you." I kept scrubbing. Wipe. Rinse. Wring. "He won't," she whispered, stepping closer until the hem of her silk dress brushed my arm. "He told Elder Silas this morning that the wedding will take place before the next full moon. He doesn't love you, Elian. He pities you. You are a disgusting, defective reminder of everything he hates about the Silvermoon." My hand trembled over the scrub brush, just for a fraction of a second. It was a microscopic physical reaction, but it was enough. Selene saw it.

The Rift: High-Voltage Heartbreak "Catherine! Stop!" Elias stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the sparks of the dying electrical system. He looked ravaged. His shirt was torn, his eyes a desperate, bleeding hazel. "Get away from me," Cat said, her voice echoing with a double-tone—her modern voice layered with the melodic, ancient rasp of 1612. She turned, her eyes two burning gold coins in the dark. "I saw the journal, Elias. The real one. You didn't just fail to save me. You sold the location of the coven to buy your way into the King’s inner circle."