I M Vengeance Novels & Stories

The very day my living hell began in my past life. ​I touched the cold glass of the mirror, slowly letting a dark, vicious smile spread across my lips. The tears of terror dried instantly, replaced by the burning fire of absolute vengeance. ​"You want that throne so badly, Vance?" I whispered into the quiet room, my voice sounding foreign—sharp, cold, and dripping with venom. "I’m going to make sure you choke on the ashes." ​Suddenly, a loud, demanding knock pounded on my door, shattering the silence.

I return to my window, I look at the city, I look at the falling snow, I look at what I have built, what I have destroyed, what I have become, and I wonder, for the first time since I began this vengeance, if this was what I wanted, if this was what I was seeking, if this is power—this immense solitude, this absolute void, this total absence of everything that made me a living person. In the silence of my office, in the silence of my victory, in the silence of my defeat, I hear Matha's voice from six years ago, when I arrived at her place with nothing, with no one, just a round belly and a head full of nightmares. I hear her voice telling me: "Vengeance, my dear, is like poison. It never kil

Why was I standing here like some desperate stalker? Why did I care if she ate? Why did I find myself checking the security feeds just to make sure she was sleeping? I was Bane Valak. I had dismantled empires and executed men without a flicker of hesitation. I was the apex predator in a city filled with wolves. And yet, I found myself paralyzed by the sight of a twenty-five-year-old girl who looked like she’d break if I breathed on her too hard. It was supposed to be simple. Amaya Vancouver was a spoil of war.

They all thought I was in Alaska. I had nothing. Except him. Except for proximity to the man I had spent thirteen years sharpening myself to destroy. Except for a mate bond that made my skin light up every time he touched me and a cursed mark that apparently had opinions about the whole situation. Fine. I dropped my hands, my hazel eyes hardening. Fine. I’ll play the game. If Rowan Vexley thought a warm bed and a few kisses would soften thirteen years of vengeance, he was more delusional than I thought. I’d play the mate. I’d learn his household. I’d find the cracks in his armor.

Something I didn’t recognize. On the third night, I walked in and saw her eyes flutter open. She gasped, panicked, trying to sit up. “Easy,” I said, stepping forward. “You’re safe now.“ My words surprised even me. I have never been nice, but with this woman right here, I'm willing to break all protocols for her. She blinked at me, her pupils struggling to adjust. “Where… where am I?” “I'm Thorne. And you’re in NightWalker territory,” I said. “You were found barely conscious at the edge of the forest. What’s your name?”

She praised. "Thank you Luna. You promise not to hurt my mother?" She asked fearfully. "As long as what happened remains with you, so will your mother. Where are her guards?" "I drugged them like you told me and put them in the next room." " Slit their throats and drag them to Judy's room." Mona said calmly. "What! I can't!" Vika exclaimed in distress. "Then I will slit your mother's throat! Your choice." She turned and walked out, leaving Vika trembling.

The woman cut open in front of the child’s eyes, more blood and finally, Elizabeth…my so called ‘mother’ holding a bloodied knife, an evil glint in her eye and a screaming child in her other hand. I scream with all my might, pure hotblooded rage fueling my very existence as the images blur together in hues of purple and blue, strung together to form long lost memories, flashing from my earliest day, all the way up 'till now.. all of them connected, like a bad movie script being played out inside my head. We will have our vengeance the voices in my head bellow as I push my head above the waterline. I’m going to kill that bitch! We speak in perfect unison.

>>>>Escape.>>>> I’m spurred by rage, my feet hurry down the hallway non-stop even when the FBI agents yell for me the surrender. I don’t. I’ll live to avenge my mother’s death. I'll live to slash my gun brutally against her gut and watch her blood coat the floor like my mother’s did. The spirit of vengeance strengthens me while I run. My mind howls at me for falling in one thing; never love a Vladimirovna. Never taint your soul with anything that has to do with him….his family.