Look Into My Eyes Ghost Rider Novels & Stories

Completing the look is a pair of brown cowboy boots. I feel my arousal and my nipples turning hard against my trunk top, the aching in my core getting wetter just looking back into those beautiful eyes. No man should be this handsome, certainly not with a look and eyes like that. He was like a Greek God made by the gods themselves. With me still looking, I turned around, right into a chest, also rock hard, but looking up I saw the red eyes. “O sorry…….” I lost my ability to speak as a cold shiver ran down my spine. It’s the same eyes I saw in my dreams. But yet again, feeling the rush of pleasure going through me, but it feels different from the one I felt looking at the cowboy.

“I'll rip your tongue out, son of a bitch.” Katie growled, but he only reacted by pressing his body even harder against her, which only fueled her need. Her own body was betraying her. “Who the hell are you?” he growled, his voice piercing her skin, giving her goosebumps. He was so close to her that she stared right into her silvery eyes, which were swirling with power; this wasn't normal, even for werewolves; eyes weren't meant to do that.

Tears rolls down his mom’s face while Evelyn spirit walks into the office smiling and she flashes back to how her spirit comes out of Marylyn’s body and keeps following her mom, she was feeling pitied for her at the party that she doesn’t know she was dead only for her to see her buying chemical at the chemical shop and injecting it to her drink and gives it to a waiter to bring it to Marylyn who was sited finding everything strange. She was shocked to see her mother inject the drink and wanted to give Marylyn because she thought she was the one and she when the waiter was about bringing it she entered into the waiter to control her at that moment and she changes the drink and she serves her

As we delved deeper into the secrets of our shared abilities, I felt a sense of belonging and acceptance that I had never experienced before. The journey I will face through the snowy landscape will mirror the journey within myself. With Rukky's guidance, I plan to embrace my uniqueness, understanding that my ghost eyes are not a burden but a source of strength. The trepidation I initially felt transformed into newfound confidence as I ventured into the unknown, ready to explore the depths of my capabilities and the legacy that bound us together.

"Papa? Papa, can you hear me?" He opens his eyes slowly, with difficulty, as if his eyelids weighed tons, as if it required a superhuman effort to tear his gaze from the darkness where he has been floating for so long. His pupils are cloudy, uncertain; they search without finding, they grope in the light, but when they finally settle on me, I see something ignite deep within—a glimmer, a consciousness, a spark that was not there yesterday or the day before or any of those days when I came to speak to a ghost.

Hesitantly, I glanced at the dead corpse and then locked my gaze dead into his eyes. They were the eyes of a hunter framed in the passionless face of an executioner. I will not deny, I was scared sh*tless but.... I don't want to brag that no one could hide from my razor-sharp eye or whatnot, but needless to say, I could recognize those lazy nonchalant cold sea-green eyes anywhere. I don't know, call it instinct, I felt that I could recognize this guy's aura even if he were to hide amongst the thickest of crowds.

“I—I thought you saw it too. The thing standing by your window. The eyes, Aurora… the red eyes.” I took a shaky breath, my stomach twisting painfully. “Red eyes?” I whispered. “What red eyes, Riley?” He hesitated, and Caleb stepped forward. “Don’t stall,” he said, his voice clipped and urgent. “Tell us exactly what you saw.” “It was like a ghost,” Riley said, his voice rising. “It had these scary eyes, like—like a demon! But it looked straight at me. I—I thought it was something you knew about or something watching over you, Aurora. That’s why I never said anything. I thought you knew.”

He stumbles forward, and I meet him with a kick to the gut that sends him sprawling. The last three look at each other like they are reconsidering their life choices. Ghost doesn’t give them time to decide. Two quick shots and only one is left. I step toward him slowly, letting him see the blood on my blades, and he bolts for the trees. “Coward,” I mutter, turning back to Ghost. He’s already heading for the bikes, scanning the area with sharp, restless eyes to make sure no one else is hiding. I follow, wiping my knives clean on a dead man’s shirt before sliding them back into place.

Whatever monster he is… he won’t pull the trigger. Right? Right? He tilts his head just slightly, studying me with an expression that chills me more than the gun ever could. His eyes bore into me, unblinking, dissecting every flicker of fear across my face. And then, for the briefest second, he lowers his gaze. His chest rises with a sharp inhale—controlled, restrained, as though he’s wrestling something inside himself. Rage. Something else. Something he doesn’t want me to see. When he looks at me again, his eyes—those cold, merciless grey eyes—seem lighter. Almost see-through. Like there’s moisture gathering in them.

I glare at him I had already linked some warriors, I could hear them coming! Rider was looking around as if he wanted to run, “go ahead! But my men will have you within moments and if they have to hunt you down you will be banished after being beaten! Then the rouges will finish you off!”