Mr Draven Book Novels & Stories

“You’re so adorable when you try to make sense of things.” I stiffened under his touch, my mind screaming at me to pull away, but my body remained frozen. “What do you mean?” I demanded, my voice firmer now despite the terror clawing at my insides. Draven's hand moved to my chin, tilting it up, forcing me to look into his captivating grey orbs. His eyes gleamed with something dangerous, something triumphant. “You see, little bird, I have no intention of dying anytime soon,” he said.

And down there, in chains and blood, was Sara. She haunted him. Even in sleep, he heard her voice, the quiet defiance laced in her last words, the tremble of strength in her broken body. And worse, he saw her eyes. Not afraid. Not begging. But burning. Burning with betrayal. A sharp knock pulled him back to the present. The door creaked open before he could respond. Draven entered, dressed in obsidian black, his hair slicked back like a blade drawn for war. His eyes flicked to James, amused.

His grip only tightens as we reach the door. The moment we step inside, my breath leaves me. Lauren is on her knees. Blood is everywhere. On her hands. Her neck. The floor beneath her. She looks small now. Broken. Nothing like the woman who smiled and cried her way into my life. And Draven— He’s shifted. Half-beast. Eyes burning red. Claws out. Rage rolling off him so thick it presses against my chest. He charges. “Draven!” My voice rips out of me without thought.

His fingers slid in — two, knuckle-deep without warning. Her body arched, mouth falling open. “You’ll read, or you’ll count,” he murmured. “Either way, your voice will fill this room.” Lena’s fingers gripped the book’s edges, knuckles whitening. She tried to read. “T-the… the protagonist’s—oh fuck—” Draven’s fingers curled, found that spot, and pressed. Unforgiving. Unrelenting. “Start over,” he ordered.

Banners snapped in the sudden wind. And then I saw it. The shadow. Huge. Black as midnight. A wolf unlike any other tore through the mist, its eyes glowing blood-red. Its fur shimmered with runes that burned across its body like fire carved into flesh. Recognition ripped through me. My knees nearly buckled. Draven. Alpha of the Bloodfang Pack. The same monster who had killed Riven. His howl split the air, deep and guttural, carrying with it the promise of blood. Wolves answered

A voice I knew. "Mother," the dragon spoke. I froze. The voice was coming from inside my own mind, but it was also coming from the dragon. "Who are you?" I screamed against the wind. The dragon landed, its tail crushing Sarah’s ridge into dust. It looked at me with gold eyes, Riven’s eyes. "I am the future you haven't written yet," the dragon said. "And I am here to tell you that Draven is already behind you." I spun around. Draven was standing ten feet away, holding a strange, black glass bottle. He wasn't crying anymore. He looked insane.

If I didn't recognize the man who was standing with Draven, I would have said Damien hired guards from hell. “You can't win me, Raven,” Draven laughed. “I'm unstoppable.” My eyes slowly turned to my mother. Our eyes passing messages to each other. My face went pale immediately I realized what was happening. Draven used black magic. “The devil's ritual,” the words finally came out.

My fated mate shut me out of our bond for the ninety-ninth time just as the last spark of dragonfire inside me began to die. I walked into the Oath Hall of Obsidian Keep alone. Black stone stretched beneath my feet, cold enough to bite through my slippers, and every step made the cracked channels around my dragon core grind deeper into my chest. “I’m here to renounce the Obsidian Court and dissolve my life-bond with the Dragon Lord.” The clerk took in my bloodless face and lowered his voice. “Lady Ashton, once I set the seal, the Court will no longer be required to protect you. Are you certain?” My dragonfire had been unstable since birth, leaving me weaker than most dragonkin. When I was te

“Why did I do that?” I threw the pillow across the room. Then I threw another one. I reached for a third… “If you keep that up, you might cut off your own head.” His voice came from the doorway in it's rich, deep, smooth tone. I froze and slowly turned. Draven leaned against the doorframe, dressed in dark slacks and a black long-sleeved shirt rolled up to his elbows. His black curly hair was damp like he just stepped out of the shower. His dark outfit with his well toned plate skin, only made the blue in his eyes sexier than usual.

But if I told them the truth, maybe they would take me back to Thornwood. “A werewolf.” I said as loud as I could muster. Collective gasps broke out around me. Gasps of shock and disdain. I dragged my gaze around, confused by their reaction. Wait, he did say this was the ‘Dragon Keep’. The memory of when I came across a book about Dragons rushed into my mind. “...dragons are egoistic creatures who think they're better than everyone. They hung our kind for sport. They're monsters, Eloise…” Mae had told me that day.