His To Corrupt Novels & Stories

No matter how angry I am with him now, I can never deny this attraction and desire I feel at just the very sight of him. How I wish he hadn't chosen this field, this deadly occupation. He is still a few steps away from me, yet I feel cornered. "I don't want this. You have no right to me!" His hands hold mine firmly over my head, soft lips grazing my cheek, making me breathless, and it leaves me bothered. He is dangerous. Corrupted. I don't feel safe around him, but I weirdly feel at home. Lord, what's wrong with me?

He smiles back, his hand too occupied to wave. "You're so stubborn." His partner shouts at him, shaking his head but smiling. He laughs loudly and enters his car, horning at them with his car one last time before driving off, leaving his work of fourteen years behind because of something very much worth it. Corruption. Whenever there is corruption in something, it begins to eat it from the inside, until it begins to show on the outside and then, there is nothing left to show for it. He has refused to be eaten by the corruption from Hank Williams, who incidentally and unfortunately, is his own uncle.

“It’s not natural rot, this is inverted magic, it’s healing twisted inside out.” I stared at her and then the residue. “No, how can…healing magic can’t be…” “Well unless,” she interrupted. “The healers themselves have been corrupted.” My heart stopped for a second. “A healer did this?” “I’m certain.” She said I only knew one healer and of course, it just couldn’t have been her, she was barely in Blackthorn anyway. I made a mental note to suggest a meeting with all healers to Dorian “Don’t trust the healer, Malik.” She said suddenly

"Hasn't he? He's living in your house. Sleeping under your roof. Playing father to your son. Becoming everything you were. And she's letting him. Welcoming it. Wanting it." "She's corrupted. He's poisoning her mind. It's not real." "But it feels real to her. That's what matters. The corruption makes her think she's choosing him. Makes her think she wants him. And by the time you surface—" Aurora stood. Adjusted her dress. "—by the time you can actually fight back—it'll be too late. The corruption will be permanent. She'll look at you like a stranger. And she'll run straight into his arms." "I'LL KILL HIM!"

He took a slow step towards me, and I instinctively held my ground. "It is not an affliction that affects me," he continued, the words dropping like bombs. "It is a corruption that spreads to those I am bound to. My energy, the moment it connects to another soul through the mark, is poison. It accelerates their life, then violently ends it. I am the vessel of a disease, a fate that kills." He stopped a few feet away, close enough for me to feel the chill radiating off him, the absence of his scent more chilling than any perfume.

"One forged through corruption. Through suffering. Through falling so completely that the fall itself becomes foundation." Through integrated corruption, our Marcus stood perfectly still as the architecture of his entire existence rearranged itself. "You weren't corrupted because you were weak, or unlucky, or chosen at random," Pure Marcus said, each word placed with the precision of someone delivering truth that would reshape everything it touched. "You were corrupted because the treaty *needed* you corrupted. Your fall wasn't failure—it was *function*. Every moment of darkness, every compromise, every violation you absorbed and integrated—it was all necessary. All *designed*."

Ronan asked, eyes piercing deep into mine. An interesting question. Not what I'd expected, but Ronan rarely asked questions without purpose. I considered my answer carefully. “I see an Alpha who is no longer himself. One who has been—” I hesitated, searching for the word. “Corrupted,” I said finally. “He’s become unpredictable.” "Because of the human." "Because of what she represents," I clarified. “And what is that?” He asked, knowing the answer already. “Emotions that cloud his judgement.”

My fingers still felt numb from what I had seen inside his system. “It was removed,” I said quietly. “The corruption is gone.” “Then why is he like this?” someone snapped. Another violent tremor ran through Henry’s body. I stared at the distorted energy flickering beneath his skin before answering. “I don’t think the corruption was the real problem,” I said slowly. “Something else is interfering.” “That’s not what you said before,” someone shot back. “Now you’re changing your story?” “Enough!” Elder Anna snapped without turning away from Henry. “We are not here to argue. We are here to stabilize him.”

But curiosity had always been my fatal flaw. ‎ ‎My fingers trembled as I approached a shelf, drawn to a black folder with a photograph sticking out. I quickly turned on my flashlight to see a man in an expensive suit shaking hands with another figure whose face was circled in red ink. Notes scrawled in Daniel’s sharp handwriting covered the margins: “offshore accounts, money laundering, eliminate loose ends.” ‎ ‎The blood in my veins turned to ice water. ‎

I honestly didn't know what to say to that, because he wasn't wrong, but at the same time, it was such a bleak outlook on things that I wanted to say that he was wrong. "So that's why you're here, trying to find a cure for the corruption, right? To change things for the better?" "I want to find the cure, yes, but I can't promise that anything will change if I do. There will always be wrong in the world, there will always be corrupt rulers, and just because it may or may not fix one problem doesn't mean it will change everything. We don't know if the people who are left are too far gone for help, their minds are just as damaged by the corruption as their bodies are, and we don't know that it'