Falcon Villain Novels & Stories

Politicians, heirs, actresses, and businessmen blending together beneath luxury and fake smiles. A beautiful cage. Her chest tightened slightly. Because she remembered dying here. Not physically. Emotionally. This was where the story first decided she was the villain. “Elena.” Her spine stiffened immediately. That voice. Low. Controlled. Cold enough to freeze the room around it. Cassian Arden. He stood near the staircase dressed entirely in black, one hand tucked into his pocket while nobles circled him carefully like satellites around a dangerous planet. Beautiful. Untouchable.

Falcone said, “I’d stop hoping. I see it in your eyes—you’re still clinging to an illusion. Down here, I choose whether you live or die. Your fate is in my hands, I’m the only thing you should believe in.” “You do not scare me, Falcone; none of your threats do.” “Perhaps you’ve lived so long with the wolves, you’ve forgotten your own true identity.” “I am Tessa Valemont. Mate to Beta Wraith. I know exactly who I am. But you… tell me, Falcone—who are you? You were marked as dead, stripped of your own name. Now you’re nobody.” “A human with a strong spirit. I can finally see what the Beta saw in you. This might turn out to be more fun than I anticipated.”

Elara's steps slowed without her permission. She knew who he was. Everyone in the kingdom knew who he was. Lord Kael Draven. The Black Villain. The man they said had burned three villages to ash without blinking. The man they said could not be killed, though no one could explain why. Guards spoke of him in low voices. Children were warned never to look him in the eye. And above his head, glowing faintly through the rain, was a number. 0 DAYS. Elara stopped walking entirely.

We left the area and surely tomorrow will be another day of GREAT news. I am Quinn Amethyst Barclay, a Filipina, twenty and I’m… THE BADASS. First of all, I hate guys second, guys are a freak third, guys are the same. I mean, what’s new with that? Guys are guys and they are cheaters as f*ck! The reason why I became such a hater of guys and romance is because of my dad. He left us when I was fifteen, so basically, I already have senses and I understand what’s happening around me and with my family.

Duncan Hiddleston is submissive to all. “Now I know I don't care. It's a bit late... Villain still likes me, as usual, no matter how much I cover this can't change. If you swap out the villain for the female lead, you'll be dead, chasing after the rice." Phedra Elizabeth thought.

She dug the novel out from beneath a stack of correspondence she'd been using to bury it, dust gathering faintly along its spine, and sat with it open in her lap for the first time in nearly two weeks. *The Villainess's Ruin.* She'd read it once, in her old life, curled up with tea gone cold beside her, treating it as nothing more than pleasant escapism before bed. She read it now with an entirely different kind of attention, searching each page for anything she might have skimmed past the first time, anything that might connect, however loosely, to a name like Renshaw.

I looked up, waiting for her to continue. "He's the famous Mr. Vance." I squinted at her in confusion, and she leaned in closer. "The dangerous man everyone fears. Last I checked, he practically owns half the city." At her words, my heart rate doubled once again. I had heard rumors of the infamous Vance name before, but I had never seen his face. And I slept with him? I gulped in quiet terror. "He's... that Mr. Vance?" I managed to say, clutching my hands tightly in my lap so she wouldn't see them trembling.

"How does that even happen? He is the falcon. Didn't you see a body? His body?" "Uhuh, it was laid out on his desk. He is dead Damon." Who could do something like that? "Who could do something like that?" fate asks horrified "From the looks of it, someone very sick." Our world is predominantly a werewolf society, but at its edges, there are certain... people, that stand out. Different gifts or talents give them a certain prestige. The Falcon is one such person. He knows and sees things and of course, he tends to use the knowledge from that to his benefit but he is still an ally to the werewolf community.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. Another shot. Then silence. Alessia's arm remained wrapped tightly around her. "Are you hurt?" Amara shook her head. "No." "Good." "Alessia..." "I'm here." Amara held onto her. For once, she didn't care about the secrets. She didn't care about the lies. All she knew was that Alessia was holding her like losing her would destroy something inside her. And in that darkness, Amara finally understood something. Maybe the woman everyone called a villain wasn't the person she should have been afraid of.

“Scarlett is the daughter of one of the most prominent High Table members in Australia. Her father had asked me to help fake her death and get her out of the country. She fell pregnant with the son of his right-hand man, Clary. It caused an uproar within his family, and Scarlett's’ father had Clary's son executed. My guess is: Clary has somehow managed to find out that Scarlett has been in the country for a few years, and he's come to get even. A life for a life.” “You helped her to escape?” “Si,” he simply states without an explanation. “I don’t understand. The whole time I have been in your presence, you have murdered many people.” He exhales through his nostrils. "Men, si, Farfalla. I wi