Ghosts Of Onyx Novels & Stories

“Little ghost.” Next: Shatterpoint

It’s no surprise in a family where everyone cares about one another that they help each other. Shadows come around the three of us as we are teleported to Death’s realm. We end up in his throne room, but Zane quickly leads us out of there as he leads us to a long dark hallway that is lit by fire torches. Ever holds my hand as we follow her Dad to an open balcony made completely of black marble. The balcony overlooks a glowing pale green river with spirits in it. The river breaks off into various places as far as the eye can see.

If he weren’t in pain, he probably would have attacked Gilliam by now. “I need help from someone that can neutralize her magic,” he explained. “To even the playing field. Then, I’ll be able to kill her easily. That’s why I sought the help of Soxor.” I felt all of the blood drain from my face and I gripped Onyx’s hand as if it was the only thing keeping me alive. That’s why I knew his face. “That’s a lie,” I answered weakly. “Soxor isn’t real.” Onyx turned his head for the first time since running out of the tent. He looked at me with confusion and worry etched into his features.

It felt comforting to reconnect with someone who was supportive. As evening began to paint the sky in hues of orange and pink, Onyx grew quiet, his gaze lingering on me with a mix of fondness and longing. He tentatively reached out, his hand inching closer, but I raised mine gently, creating a barrier between us. “Onyx,” I murmured softly, meeting his eyes with a silent warning, “you can’t get too close. If Zavier senses your scent on me... it’ll only cause more complications for both of us.”

Hello guys!!! I really hope you did enjoy the mystery, romance and action of this erotica? If yes, then the mystery continues in both FALLING FOR A GHOST 2 - The search for how Heaven came to contact the deadly HIV virus brings us to the story of Alex. How he went from a sinner to a man of God and the battles in-between. FALLING FOR A GHOST 3 - For Nevaeh is back from the land of the dead with a single purpose; avenge her own death and that of her sister, Heaven.

He held his tablet like a scepter, the screen glowing with the blue light of the house’s master controls. "It’s a beautiful view, isn't it, Silas?" Marcus asked, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm. "A perfect place for a story to end. I’ve already updated the system. Onyx isn't just a ghost now; she’s my ghost. I didn't just hack your AI. I moved into her. I am the one who sent that little deepfake of Julian to the screens. I wanted to see how fast you’d run to save a dead man." "He isn't dead," Iris snapped, her voice shaking but loud.

His crimson eyes, usually so focused and predatory, were scanning the mist with a growing, terrifying emptiness. "Darlene... the smell of the cave... it’s turning into... plastic," Eryx rasped. He reached out to grab my shoulder, but his hand passed through my form as if I were a flickering hologram. "I can see you, but the weight of you is gone. The system is telling me you’re a legacy file. An unverified ghost".

From the shards, the half-formed Ghost Wolves began to crawl, their eyes glowing with that same violet rot. “Kill the Alpha,” Dante commanded, his voice trembling with greed. “And bring me the girl. I want to see if the Luna’s marrow is as pure as the legends say.” The Ghost Wolves lunged, a wave of gray fur and violet eyes, and the final war for the Roux soul began in a shower of glass and blood. I leveled my weapon, the bond screaming a warning in my brain as the first monster cleared the distance.

The witches closed in, their laughter echoing like a chorus of nightmares. Something inside Aqua snapped. A surge of dark energy, unfamiliar and terrifying, welled up within her. She felt her pendant grow hot against her skin, the clear crystal turning black as smoke. The air around her crackled with raw power as she turned back towards the attackers, her fear morphing into a blinding rage.

It was displayed. My chest tightened as I lifted it with a gloved hand. The scent hit immediately, chemical, sharp, layered with something metallic underneath. Chlorine and cold steel. A smell I had not encountered in years but recognized all the same. It was the same ghost note that had clung to the air the night my parents died. This was not chaos. It was not a fight gone wrong or a rogue passing through. This was intent. Someone had gotten close enough to Owen to inject him, or had taken him elsewhere and left this behind as a message. Either option required control, preparation, and knowledge of what we were.