Hot Nightwing Novels & Stories

KRYSTEL POV I IMMEDIATELY took my cellphone from a drawer when it rang loudly. It's already eight in the morning but I am still asleep. I just came from a bar hopping last night. Despite having a heavy and throbbing head, I tried to answer the call. "Hey, just call me back again later-" "What the hell Krystel Ann Cruz! Are you drunk?!" I recoiled as I heard someone shouting on the other line. Irritated, I looked at the caller ID on the phone screen and furrowed my brow when I saw the name of my talented cousin.

He was bothered the sirens would wake his wife. He walked out of the living room and got outside, there were three cops’ cars. A man dressed in a suit walked out and walked towards Axel. “Blackwell, it's almost three in the morning. Why do I have to arrest you by this time of the day?” The man asked tiredly and Axel rolled his eyes. “Turn off your fucking sirens, my wife is sleeping.” Axel said and the man turned to the cops, he nodded at them and they turned it off.

There was a rumor that he could expel some sort of energy in his attacks that could knock someone down without ever touching them. He wasn’t the only one who possessed unnatural abilities. There was a female warrior in his pack that was known as Nightingale. She was extremely agile with swift reflexes that were almost invisible to the naked eye. Aside from her, there was Phantom. I didn’t know the ranks of the pack members, but each member had skills that were just as strong as their Alpha. Phantom could move so fast that some believed he could teleport and he was more dangerous than Shadowstrike. Phantom was a known killer and was on the top of the wanted list for not only werewolves but al

Wendy Thorne, honor-roll princess, the girl who used to beg me to push her higher on the swings, who cried when we found a dead sparrow in the gutter, was in there doing… that? I should’ve knocked. Should’ve turned around, jogged back down, played the dutiful neighbor kid. Instead I eased the door open a crack and looked. Holy hell. She was sprawled across pink flannel sheets, winter sunlight striping her bare skin like gift-wrap. Legs spread wide, knees hooked over the bed’s edge, one hand working a thick purple dildo in and out of her shaved pussy like she was starving for it.

An unread text from an unknown number. I blinked, trying to force my vision into focus. I swiped the screen. It was an image. High resolution, stark, and utterly silent. In the center of the frame was a man lying on a bed. He was pale, his eyes wide and milky, staring at a ceiling he would never see again. His chest was a ruin of crimson, a deep, jagged crater of blood that had soaked through his white undershirt and turned the sheets into a sodden, dark map. Buried deep in the center of that mess, right through the sternum, was a tactical knife—its black hilt protruding like a tombstone.

She missed David and their discussions and she missed Roth even more. The day had been so hot and the flat was so airless that she showered in a vain attempt to get cool, pulling over her naked body an old cotton shirt which had once belonged to Alex, too drained and lethargic even to think of getting properly dressed. Half an hour later Wayne arrived, carrying a bottle of properly dressed. Half an hour later Wayne arrived, carrying a bottle of wine which he insisted on opening even though she told him that she didn’t want anything to drink. In the end it was easier to give in than to argue, but she stood her ground over the drug he offered her, firmly shaking her head.

Minerva suddenly followed Colt as everyone greeted him, leaving Tio and Lilith behind as they watched Colt and Minerva converse with the folks in front of them. After that, a man leapt from the tree hut and approached Tio and Lilith. "Hello, my name is Drake Wing, and I'm glad to meet you. Before you come in, I need to check your bags for security reasons," Drake Wing explained. He is a 289-year-old werewolf who served as the patrol guard's leader. Inside and out, he protected their area. His team always greeted their visitors and kept a close eye on them, ensuring that no one would hurt their packs. Drake Wing's eyesight is good, thus he was assigned to be on guard.

I knew the Nightwing pack house to be very huge, accommodating more than a hundred members on feasts if necessary but I never knew that beneath it was another place entirely that could hold a lot of people. I soon became tired of walking down this secret place and was about to go back when I heard sounds just a few earshot away. Been too inquisitive, I tiptoed down the hall and was shocked at what I saw. In a large and spacious area with a round pool of water at the edge and a fireplace at the left side, was Lucifer naked to his waist and on his knees looking at the fire. He looked so vulnerable at this point with his hair in a tangled mess. This was not the same man who had yelled fear into

46 | D A M I E N ' S R E Q U E S T *** Ginny only got a quick wink from Damien, indicating that Ginny didn't need to think about it. And that made Ginny calm again. "I didn't expect a day like this to come! If you are wondering, during the first great war between werewolves and vampires, Aaron Coldnight was not the only person who could corner the three of us. However, there is one more person, he is a pure descendant of the werewolf's ancestors. That person is Kendrick Zacharias, the Silver Moon. Together with Aaron Coldnight who is nicknamed the Golden Sun, the two of them, the Gold and Silver pair, are the two most troublesome opponents."

He invited him, “Everyone wants to see you there.” Craig immediately looked at me, "I'm with someone, besides I can't drink." He pointed to the sling in his arm. "Gosh, don't try to say no. You just don't want to leave your girlfriend alone and someone else might make their moves." He teased and looked at me, "It's fine if he drinks later, right? There's a big hut in the back where we'll drink so you can also come." This refers to the fact that Craig's grandfather also owns the hut just behind the house, the arrangement of the hut is just right when there is an occasion.