Ink Obsession Novels & Stories

Albert smirked when the elevator closed and the security men clapped on the elevator's door. But it was already too late. Albert clenched his teeth in anger when he remembered the Letter he found on his footsteps today. After he sucked in blood from that woman to regain the strength he lost when Lincoln had injected him with Orios,a weakening Drug that was discovered by the early vampires to weaken preys that were caught. But when used on a vampire,the vampire would get weak and pass out,and when the vampire wakes up,he would have the strong urge for blood. After sucking the woman to death,he had his men dispose the dead body and just this morning,he found that Letter.......

Damn, I didn't ask to play! I am stashed behind the kitchen curtains, and I watch the show, and I like what I see. A beautiful woman that beauty has not left by the side of the road. She is wearing a yellow dress. Excess of coquetry? Need to be seen and admired over and over again? It seems like it is working just fine. I see her. She reminds me of femininity, and chills run through down my spine without being able to refrain them. They go too fast for me, just like my thoughts. I find it hard to focus on anything other than this woman. I do not know her. She doesn't see me from the top of the third floor, and yet I spy on her like a teenager would observe a classmate from the corner of his

Alessandro's Pov: I barged into the house, gripping the stair railing like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to my sanity. The stench of her blood still lingered in the air, invading my senses like a poison. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push it away, trying to regain some semblance of control. My vision flickered red, the hunger clawing at me like an animal, demanding satisfaction. Stumbling into the kitchen, I yanked open the fridge, ripping open a blood bag, and shoved it to my mouth like it was the only thing keeping me from losing myself completely. I leaned back against the counter, savoring the cool relief as it flowed through me.

"So no. Nothing about this is simple anymore." Isabella's breath hitched. "Dante…." "And I think you like me too. Not the Don. Not the billionaire. Not the man who can solve your problems. Me. The insomniac with nightmares who watches you when you're not looking." "You watch me when I'm not looking?" "Constantly." He said it without shame. "You fascinate me. Every expression that crosses your face, every little gesture. I want to understand all of it." "That's intense."

“Her name, her past, it's all fog and nothing concrete. You're about to marry a woman whom you haven't completely vetted. What if we're wrong about her?” “I'm aware.” My reply seemed to infuriate him, but he hid it pretty well. “Are you?” He pushed. “Because it looks like obsession, and in our world, it gets men like us killed.” My jaw ticked, but I stayed silent. Matteo was my right hand man for a reason, and this was one of them. Everything he'd said to this point was true, but you know what else was true? The fact that she was getting on my nerves. She intrigued me too.

t and likely kill Johnny himself, not Layla, with her gossipy nature and sharp eyes, not the old men with their rambling stories and leering eyes that seemed to miss noth- ing. It was their secret, a dangerous, intoxicating !re that they fed in stolen mo- ments and couldn't seem to extinguish, no matter how much trouble it promised, no matter how many warnings they gave themselves. Tonight, it felt even more dangerous than usual, the air thick with unspoken longing, heavy with the weight of their shared secret. She could feel it thrum- ming in her veins, a restless energy that made her hands tremble slightly as she wiped down the bar,

“Why me, though? You could’ve picked any boring, respectable dude to be your fake Prince Charming. Why the guy with tattoos, a criminal record, and a reputation for breaking rules and hearts?” “Exactly,” I said, leaning in. “You’re the exact opposite of what he would expect. That’s the point. I don’t want to impress him. I want to show him I don’t need to follow the rules. You walking in with me will shatter every expectation he has.” Orion was quiet, thoughtful. For once, he wasn’t smirking or throwing a sarcastic comment my way. He was just… staring at me, like he was trying to figure out if this was a joke or a trap.

My instincts couldn't help but scream for me to touch it. So I reached for it. And as the wax cracked under my fingers, I said my prayers silently. That whatever truth hid inside won't be the kind that destroys. But deep down, I already knew that truths like these never saves. It only revealed more dangerous secrets.

Michael Osborn sat completely motionless in his deep leather armchair, his large frame hunched so far forward that his chest almost touched the polished timber where Ava’s smartphone and bound ledger lay side-by-side like the instruments of a surgical execution. His breathing was nothing more than a slow, ragged friction in the back of his throat, his eyes bloodshot and fixed on the leather cover of the notebook. The ash-gray color that had taken over his handsome features during the hours of realization had settled deep into his skin, leaving his face looking hollowed out, old, and thoroughly broken under the single beam of amber light from the desk lamp. The automated habit of his blindnes

Mosley shoots him a dirty look. “Ember seeds can cause cancer when taken in excess. You seem to always take those.” The incubus pops some of the seeds into his mouth and moans as if the taste is the best thing ever. He turns in Mosley’s direction. “Let me know if you need a Vel Morin to test-run this theory of yours.” The elemental’s eyes narrow, and a thick sheet of ice suddenly crackles beneath Olyon’s leaning chair, making it slip and sending him tumbling.