Mecha Metal Sonic Novels & Stories

“You think I’m scared of you?” I snapped. Aiden Cross shoved me hard against the locker. The metal slammed behind my back while his hand wrapped around my throat and said with a low voice “You should be.” The hallway outside the locker room was filled with noise from the hockey crowd, but inside, everything felt quiet. I glared at him and said with gritted teeth “Go choke on your ego, Cross.” A smirk appeared on his face and he said with a teasing voice “That mouth is going to get you into trouble one day, Little Wolf.” I shoved against his chest and shouted “Get lost, Cross”. Instead of moving away, he leaned closer and his nose brushed near my jaw while fingers tightened slightly around my throat. He murmured “You don’t understand yet, do you? If I wanted to break you, Cole, I would’ve done it already, little wolf.” Hearing his words, a shiver ran down my spine. At Blackthorne Academy, powerful wolves are worshipped like gods and nobody is more feared than Aiden Cross. He was the hockey captain of the rival team and everyone obeys him except Cole Black. He has spent his whole life trying to prove he deserves a place in a family that already chose someone else. While his stepbrother is treated like the future Alpha, Cole is constantly reminded he is unwanted. Then his fated mate rejects him and chooses Aiden publicly but the way Aiden looked at him, a chill ran down Cole’s spine. Beneath the brutal hockey rivalry and violent attraction, something terrifying is waking up inside Blackthorne Academy, a secret society and its rituals. There was a secret that Cole’s father was hiding. A secret that will change Cole and Aiden’s lives forever.

How quickly everything ended by just a single day, I was just like any other girl in the world- laughing and hanging out with friends, taking endless selfies, having crushes on bad boys and nerds included. I never thought or cared about how I look. It was just mine. Normal and Easy. But everything changed in one single moment- a moment filled with fire, screaming metal, and a blur of terror that rewrote my life. I survived. Everybody says I'm lucky but this, this doesn't feel like survival it feels like a punishment, a curse. A curse that am willing to carry all my life. The accident left me with permanent facial disfigurement, and ever since, I've been stuck behind a mask I never asked to wear. My face is the first thing anyone sees, and sometimes, it feels like the only thing they see. I avoid mirrors now. I no longer go out; I can't risk being stared at. Friends faded. Invitations stopped. Of course they would stop, who would want to invite the hideous me. I would scare everyone, worse, ruin their appetite. They would move away from their tables. What did I expect? Life moved on for everyone but me. My mom is the only person in my life right now, shes' become my anchor. Even with her love, it's still hard to silence the voices in my head, the ones saying I'm hideous, broken, unworthy. I miss my old smile. I still haven't done anything in life. And this isn't about my appearance it's about my self- esteem, my confidence, my ability to feel like I belong anywhere. This is a constant battle with the mirror, with the world, and with yourself. And most days, I'm trying to find the strength to look up to.

He kissed her over and over again, and she responded: she said yes. All female heat and need; so soft and curved against his muscle and hard planes. King kissed her like he owned her and she ached to just let him take her. Any way he wanted; as many times as she could take him. King shifted her again, held almost her whole weight on one massive forearm, freeing his other hand to move over her now. His fingers tightened on her cheek as he kissed her, the metal of his rings cool against her flushed skin, then he moved his hand down her body. She arched when he caressed her throat and stroked down slowly. **** Naomi Abbott had it all once: talent, success, momentum. Now she runs a nonprofit art program for autistic adults and counts her days sober instead of her sales. She’s smart, beautiful, and barely holding herself together. One year into recovery, Naomi knows the rules: no chaos, no temptation, and absolutely no romance. Especially not with him. Matt “King” Kingston is danger wrapped in muscle, a scowling ex-Marine with a garage, a shadowy side hustle, and a laser-focused obsession with Naomi. He wants her. All of her. And he’s never been good at walking away. But the closer he gets, the harder she resists... because letting King in means risking everything she’s fought to rebuild. As trust grows and walls crack, King becomes Naomi’s anchor. Until she spirals. When the past comes roaring back, Naomi must decide if she’s strong enough to survive it... and if King’s love can endure the wreckage.

His lips brushed my palm and every time his hot breath hit my skin, it set my nerves on fire. “What the—” I whispered, breathless. And then, with deliberate slowness, Sevastian slipped my ring finger into his mouth. My eyes widened in disbelief, my heart hammering against my chest. His teeth scraped my skin before sinking into the flesh, just enough to make me twitch from the sharp pain. I gasped, both from the sting and the bite I got from him. My entire body tensed as he bit down harder, marking me not with ink or metal, but with flesh and teeth. When he finally released my hand, my skin throbbed, the faint mark of his bite was visible against my finger. I cradled my hand, staring in disbelief at the mark he left behind. “This,” Sevastian murmured, his voice low and sharp. “Is my mark and ring.” His tone carried an edge, dangerous yet confident, as if the words were meant to bind me. “The symbol that you are no longer Celestina Valeztina-Savelli.” His lips ghosted over my skin, and my chest tightened as he whispered the next words. “...but Celestina Valeztina-Ortega.” His next words were a soft snarl, dripping with ruthless certainty. “My property, my wife.” He added, while locking his gaze on me. There was no hesitation in his eyes, no flicker of remorse, only that same ruthless determination that chilled me to my core. I tried to pull my hand back, but he didn’t let go. "You’re insane," I whispered, my voice barely audible, trembling despite my best efforts not to show it. “Yes, I’m insane,” he replied with a hint of mischief in his voice, “And I can drive you crazy…” He paused, letting the tension hang in the air.

Liana Elizabeth Rose of the prestigious Rose family woke gasping—remembering everything. At first, she thought it was a dream. Or a hallucination. Maybe heaven, maybe hell, or wherever people go when life has been cruel enough to steal their breath. But the room was the same. The curtains were the same. The smooth, unscarred skin she touched was the same. As if the last five years of betrayal and humiliation had never etched themselves into her. Then the panic hit. She remembered. Every. Single. Thing. The cold metal of prison bars. Her husband Adrian’s dead, beautiful eyes accusing her of the accident. The trial. The cousin who framed her. The family who abandoned her. The little brother who no longer remembered her voice. Her death. And the cruelest truth: she wasn’t even from this world. It was a book a stupid novel her roommate had recommended. She died inside a story she didn’t write. And now, she woke up at the moment everything began to crumble. Fine. Sharpen her mind. Feed her ambition. And when the plot tried to drag her back, she’d pull harder. Then there was him—Adrian. From his point of view, the world shifted. Her scent. Her voice. Her existence. Everything about her crawled under his skin, sank into his bloodstream, coiled around his bones. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t want to. He only knew: if she breathed, he wanted it. If she moved, he followed. Obsession wasn’t a symptom—it was his nature. And Liana? She had rewritten herself into the one thing he could never let go of. This time, she wasn’t the victim. She wasn’t a plot device. She was the storm. And Adrian? Learning, too late, that even possession has a price.

"Look at the target, Gabe," Derek hissed, his voice a low vibration that settled in my bones. "Imagine it's my heart. Imagine you are finally putting me out of my misery." I was trapped between the cold metal of a gun and the burning heat of his body. My finger trembled on the trigger, but I couldn't pull it. My name is Gabriel. To the world I am the nerdy quiet university student. To Derek Miller, I am his toy. He found my secret sketchbook, page after page of his naked body drawn with obsessive detail. Now, he uses those sketches to keep me on a leash blackmailing me whenever he wants a taste of my dignity. But the nightmare was only beginning. When my religious mother announced she was marrying Derek’s billionaire father my world shattered. My bully wasn't just a ghost from campus anymore, he was my stepbrother. We share a room. We share a bathroom and now my body. He is everywhere I breathe. He claims me. He insults me. He treats me like trash. And the sickest part? I have realized I loved it rough. Our obsessive love is impossible. My mother would disown me, the Miller name would be tarnished, and Derek’s tough love is starting to leave scars I can't hide. Just as I am about to break, a new guy enters the picture someone who promises to love me softly. Someone who doesn't smell like gin and danger. But in the dark world of the Millers, safety is a lie. Now I have to choose: Do I run toward a peaceful future, or do I stay with the devil I already know?

When I went to pick Diana Grant up, she just tossed the car keys toward me. Dangling from the silver ring was a plush white bear pendant. I paused, knowing that she had never kept a keychain or a decorative charm on her keys. Once I slid into the driver's seat, the entire alignment felt off. The seat had clearly been adjusted. "Did you let someone else drive your car?" I asked, keeping my voice casual. Dazed from the alcohol, she offered a dismissive shrug. "Yeah. I lent it to an employee for a quick business trip." I didn't press further. The next morning, the chime of the doorbell broke the silence of the house. When I pulled the door open, a shy, clean-cut young guy was standing on the porch. He blinked, then forced a sheepish smile and handed over a cup of coffee. "Hi," he stammered. "I'm just here to drop off a fresh coffee for Ms. Grant." But my attention wasn't on the coffee. My gaze dropped to his left hand. Twirling lazily around his index finger was a set of keys, and swinging from the metal loop was the same white bear pendant. I took the coffee cup from his hand and quietly closed the door. In the room, Diana's phone lit up on the table. A new notification flashed across the lock screen. It was a message that read: [Diana, I just met your husband. He looks kind of scary. Coffee was delivered safely anyway. Try to drink less alcohol next time, okay?] I picked up the phone and pulled up the video camera. With the recording running, I held the coffee cup over the kitchen sink and slowly poured the warm liquid down the drain. Then I uploaded the recorded video to Diana's social media, broadcasting it to her entire social circle. The caption read: [Thanks for the concern, but she doesn't drink coffee.]

In the fifth year after my death, my wife, Yuna Lane, visited my apartment once more. She wanted me to take the blame for her childhood sweetheart's corporate fraud crimes. "Finn, Joe is going to be elected the chairman of the Trade Association. He can't afford any blemish to his reputation. Will you only be satisfied by thoroughly ruining him? "It's only two more years in prison! Joe said he'll give you a job once you're released. Stop being so ungrateful!" Her screams and shouts startled my neighbors. … When she banged on the door once more, the woman who lived across from me finally stepped out into the hallway. "Miss, stop banging on the door. He died long ago." "He's dead?" The woman sighed. "Yes. I hear it goes back to that fraud case years ago. The victim's family wasn't happy with the sentence, so as soon as Finn was released, they had him run over and killed.” My wife's face turned stark white upon hearing the truth. However, barely a few seconds passed before she let out a cold scoff, confident this was all just a scheme of mine. "Great. He's willing to fake his death just so he can get out of helping Joe. Does he really think I'm helpless and powerless against his schemes? Tell him that his parents are dead meat if he doesn't show up in three days!" She then violently kicked the metal grills of my door before strutting away on her high heels. The woman watched her walk away with bloodshot eyes, shaking her head in pity as she muttered under her breath, "Poor guy. His old man died soon after hearing of his death..."

My wife's childhood friend, a gambling addict she had known since childhood, returned to Dryana. To help him pay off his debts, she stole and sold my medical patent. Before it happened, I confronted her. I tried to stop her. I even threatened to call the police. Amanda Carroll looked at me as if I had disappointed her beyond repair. "Enough, Cedric Lunsford. You're a grown man. Can you stop nitpicking over every little thing? "Don isn't like you. He's in trouble right now. You make that much money. What's wrong with giving him a little? I'm already your wife. Are you seriously going to tell me where my heart is allowed to be?" I gathered the evidence and headed to the police station. Halfway there, my brakes failed. The car slammed into the guardrail. Metal crumpled and glass shattered. I was pinned in the driver's seat, drenched in blood, forcing out my last breath as I called for help. Amanda's voice on the line was flat, almost bored. "Stop yelling. Don can't stand bloody scenes. Don't make him sick. Your insurance payout is enough for him to start over. Consider it the last duty you perform as a husband." At that moment, I understood. Even at the end, she chose his gambling debt. She chose murder and an insurance payout. The vehicle exploded. Nothing remained of me. Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day her "childhood sweetheart" returned. This time, I did not stop her from going to the airport. I picked up my phone and called my senior overseas. "I'll sell you the patent. And the position you mentioned, I'm in. See you in three days."

I gulped "What do you want from me?" I asked already shaking. "Don't be scared babygirl" A second man said. I flinched when he called me that. "We won't hurt you" A third man responded chuckling at his statement. Just as I was about to protest, the chubby man pulled me down making me lie down from my once sitting position "Please I beg you. Don't" I pleaded tears streaming down my eyes. "SHUT THE HELL UP" the second man said as he slapped me making my head snap to the other side. I closed my mouth whimpering. "Good girl" the third man cooed. The chubby man stood up ready to pull off his trousers when I began to squirm, the two other men held my arms and my legs which prevented me from protecting myself so I decided to scream. That was bad idea. The man above me, the chubby one, brought out a gun from his pocket bringing it close to my head, I winced as the cold metal made contact with my head "One more word from your mouth and I blow your fucking head up. OK?" He threatened, his mouth smelling of cigarette, I nodded vigorously as he grinned dropping his gun. Owning a well known company, Riele found it hard to find true love. Men either date her then dump her or dupe her for the money she has Through these complications she came across Jace but not in her right senses either. Follow them through the problems the world throws at them to see if they would escape its brutal beatings or not