Insidious Dalton Novels & Stories

There was not reason why she would put herself in trouble out of the blues, and play such loud classical music in the mansion. To make the situation of their unconfirmed skepticism worse, they had not even seen her all day to know if she was inside. It was better to be sure of the answer to give, because Dalton's anger could escalate if they give him vague answers, and he later finds out that they were not valid. Without further questions and answers to expect from them, he casted an unreadable look at everyone and stalked past them, with his left hand well tucked into his tuxedo pants. Everything about his physical appearance, hot steaming body, and even the way he walked almost looked perf

Hazel followed suit, stepping closer. "Hazel, just get some rest. You’ll know the results soon. I can’t tell you anything more," Diana said, turning away. But Hazel grabbed her arm, forcing her to face her. "Why?" Hazel demanded. "Are you hiding something from me?" Her heart pounded as paranoia settled in. "Did something happen to me?" she pressed. Then, suddenly, a smile formed on her lips, but it wasn’t out of amusement—it was bitter, laced with disbelief. "Don’t tell me… I have some terrible disease," she said mockingly. "Something fatal? And you are all keeping it from me because you think I’ll break down?"

My heart was pounding in my chest, my lungs on fire as I pushed myself towards the door, but it was too late. A large hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back, pressing me into the wall. I looked up and saw a dripping wet Dalton in nothing but a pair of lounge pants. His arms caged me in, and he stared me down. Dalton’s breathing was ragged, like mine, and I felt the little puffs of air as they left his lips. “How did you get in?” He asked. But I didn’t say a word, I held his gaze. “what do you want?” He clasped my throat and closed the distance between us. “what the fuck do you want?”

“And Dalton, stop going after my acquaintances. You’ll find the shooter on top of the building across your office.” Dalton took out a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to touch the silver bullet. He looked at the bullet and saw his name was engraved on the side. He wrapped it and put it inside the pocket of his jeans. Dalton left the place and regrouped with Jahan before leaving for the Council. He didn’t know how but he had the feelings that Mira didn’t kill his brother, Winston. Until he heard her confession, everything was just a doubt. He held onto the hard drive she gave. Maybe that would shine a light to darkness he was lost in.

But if it wasn't Angelo, then who could it be? Dalton thought that Carsen was a scatterbrain, although he was a genius in academics, he was a fool in matters of emotions. He knew about Carolyn's liking for Carsen because Russell spilled the beans to him in order to get him to gather military intelligence. He just didn't intend to tell Carsen about this matter, after all Carolyn had liked Carsen for so many years. Since Carsen is interested in her, let him pursue Carolyn properly, that's only fair. "Whoever it was, just chase after them. Because any man who can make Carolyn cry is definitely not a good person!" Dalton felt so satisfied to insult him in front of Carsen, and yet this clueless g

To help me escape, or is there another reason? "Get me out of here," I decide to say, using the strength in my voice to my favour. It doesn't matter anyway, because both men ignore me completely. "How many strings did your boss have to pull to get you here? Huntsman..." The words Reilly say are so snake like and evil. Hatred drips from the sentence; especially when he said Huntsman. When I look at Cal it makes sense for him to be one of the typically strong Wolves hired by Alphas to hunt down specific individuals.

Dalton stepped inside. His gray hair looked more disheveled than usual, and he was still wearing his coat. The sight immediately made my stomach tighten. Dalton was a man who believed in preparation, routine, and measured reactions. If he was standing in my bedroom after midnight, something was wrong, very wrong. He closed the door behind him and cleared his throat. "Alex, we have a situation." A humorless smile pulled at my mouth. "Another one?" He didn't smile back. "It's bad."

Here he was, being intimidated by the creature but there she was, princess looking quite fine and regal and incredible as she sat on that very same fearsome creature that they were trembling at just looking at it. "F*ck! I absolutely refuse to die now!" Dalton put his right hand on his half left limbs, smirking, "hello!! God of Death, I will need you to take a rain check on collecting my soul. I need to live on longer to see more of these… I want to see the future of this princess of ours!" Dalton said to himself but he had lost so much blood and he fainted.

His face was indeed good-looking, but the most frightening was his eyes, shining with a bloodthirsty cold light, like a ferocious leopard. Stacy was also a little scared and unconsciously took two steps back, "Dalton, can you not force me?" "I'm forcing you?" Dalton started laughing, it seemed to be funny. He grabbed Stacy's delicate neck and pressed her against the wall, who was a murderer spirit on his body, and it was extremely cold.

I intentionally asked, though I knew the reason she was like that. “No my lord.” She quickly replied, and hurriedly left. In a few minutes, Dalton walked down the stairs with a grim look on his face. He paused on his steps, glaring at me with so much hate and fear in his eyes. His eyes were still red from the effect of the black salt. He now looked ten years older, with small wrinkles forming at the corner of his eyes and on his face. The large eyebags under his eye, revealed that he must have been having sleepless night concerning the war.