Mason Dark Novels & Stories

Throwing him the middle finger over my shoulder, I walk to the very man who hits all the damn buttons of my self-control and nerves. The Light is dimmed In here. The room reeked of alcohol, weed, and sex. Mason is a dick. But he's an even bigger dick when he's intoxicated. Today is just not the day to deal with this kind of shit. There are empty bottles of different kinds of wine. Expensive shit, too.

That is why I hired Mason. Mason is a sophomore at the local university, majoring in kinesiology. Tall — six-one at least with lean, soccer-player muscle, sandy blond hair that falls into hazel eyes, and a smile that is equal parts boyish and dangerous. He started babysitting for me six months ago after I posted in the neighborhood F******k group. The kids adore him. He plays Fortnite with Max for hours, lets Lily paint his nails, and somehow gets them both in bed on time without a single meltdown. I have always appreciated him. Paid him well. Tipped extra. Pretended I didn’t notice how his T-shirts cling to his chest or how his shorts ride up when he is on the floor building Lego towers.

Mason asked as he put on his pants again, and walked to the basin to wash his hands, and then leaned against the door. Mason was a big built man, with tattoos covering his arms and his chest, he didn't have abs but it was very visible that he was a good fighter. A man like him looked dangerous and he was, but he talked too much. His talkativeness did not match his face or his body, it seemed unnatural. "I'm tired of being in this place," he said finally, groaning as he ran his hands in his long shoulder length hair that seemed to grow more every day, "I would kill to just get out of here."

(Mason) The Warren Global Foundation gala is on Saturday, and I’ve spent most of Friday afternoon trying to talk myself out of what I’m about to do. I’m not winning the argument. The argument keeps going like this. Mason. You’re a grown man. You own a mergers and acquisitions firm. You’re about to weaponize a twenty-six-year-old woman whose primary crime is being too sincere about wellness, in order to provoke a public outburst from the husband of the woman you’re in love with.

He moved with the silence of a predator and the ease of a man who owned the dark. He crouched near me, not touching, an arm resting on his knee. His eyes were too bright in the moon, and they measured me like a market buyer. “You shouldn’t walk packlands at night, little one.” I swallowed. “Who are you?” He let out a chuckel. “A dangerous thing to ask in the Wildlands.” He straightened. “Name’s Mason.” Mason looked at me like a curious animal. “You smell like a bond and trouble,” he said. “Alpha’s mark still clings to you.”

Mason takes a sip of the hot drink before setting it on the table. " You don't like it?" I ask and he sighs. " I am a whiskey person. Something to set my nerves ablaze." He confesses and I nod. " Don't get me wrong, I am not an alcoholic. It's just that my work needs someone who is always on their toes. " He continues and I give him a look of understanding. " So you are a police officer or something?" I ask, making Mason laugh. His laugh is music to my ears and it sends a shiver down my spine.

Drake absorbed everything that Mason discovered slowly. 'Who is this guy who is obsessed with Nyra?' He asked. Mason knows about his friend very well. If he consider something as his, then there is no turning back for him. Its natural that he is possessive about his mate, more than usual. 'He is harmless as far as I asked around' Mason replied. 'Ok, I will come back in a few hours' Drake said and disconnected the mind link. He can mind link with anyone out there if the other party is a shifter. Let it be a dragon or a wolf.

Mason asked as we walked back home funny enough he lived in the same apartment complex as me and due to experience it took me a while to finally accept that not all people are evil, especially when you have a short experience of someone like Sylvester. Funny enough how I didn't hear from him again. “Well it was fun, I had friends and families, I had a job and I pretty much had my life together!*. Liess!!!!!! “I have only been to Chicago once and that was it, I went to my grandma's funeral last year!” Masin explained. Mason was a tall chocolate skinned man. He had a beautiful set of brown eyes and his hair was very much curly. His skin looked so flawless that it looked like hot chocolate.

Even if they were ordered to. “No need to thank me, I actually requested this assignment,” He winks, flashing me a panty-melting smile. Mason was very easy on the eyes, with his longish brown hair that curled around his ears and those soft brown eyes. He was tall and muscular with a lean build. I had noticed him the first time I visited my best friend at MacTire. But my eyes were always looking for a certain werewolf that I couldn’t get out of my head. Hunji.

I only use my work phone and the phone in my unit. After getting dressed, I grabbed my car key and chose my China Gray Aston Martin DB11 AMR. I am a car collector, and that's my obsession. In fact, I love my car more than people. I loved them more than Panther, who was my first boyfriend. I'm twenty-five and have only had one ex. I was too focused when I was a teenager, and then I was busy studying criminology when I was in college. And when I gave myself a chance to date, the man just cheated on me. Guys, they can't live without sex.