Nox Draven Novels & Stories

Her eyes, two glowing orbs of malevolent power, stared unblinkingly at the figure kneeling before her—Lord Draven. Draven, once a powerful and feared vampire lord, now looked like a beaten dog. His normally imposing figure was hunched, his head bowed low in submission. His plan had failed. Despite his careful preparation, his meticulous execution, he had not succeeded in killing Lara, the Luna of Tribiano. Worse still, Magnus had discovered his deception before Draven could strike. Now, he was back in Thana's dark domain, awaiting her judgment.

She thinks I'm a good person? She's the only person I know who has told me I'm a good person. People call me Draco in the underworld, and most people associate it with the devil, dragon, demon, etc. But my fiery kitten thinks I'm a good person. Would she have the same view about me if she knew and saw what I was capable of? I know I'm not a psychopath who just kills people without thinking, but I've taken down some people because the world would be a better place without them, so I guess I did something good.

Less drama when I haul his limp ass out of here. I glance around the bar. No one’s paying attention. Good. The Grit isn’t a place for gawking. Draven, the bar’s owner, made sure his rules were ironclad. And even though he isn’t around tonight, nobody here is stupid enough to disrespect his house. The vampire—Neo, if I’m remembering right—drains his drink like he’s dehydrated. That’s it, buddy. Drink up. You’re almost mine. “By the way,” Neo says, wagging his finger like he’s about to tell me the secrets of the universe, “I don’t like this town. Everyone’s always starting shit. Talking shit. Blah blah blah. Like, shut the fuck up already.”

The flames around the trial circle had not dimmed since Corvin’s defeat. If anything, they burned higher, restless, as though the gods themselves demanded more blood before they would let the night end. Draven stood in the center, chest heaving, blood still dripping from the gash across his shoulder. He had not cleaned it. He hadn’t needed to. He wanted them to see it—that even bloodied, even pressed to the edge, he had not fallen. But in the silence that followed, something changed.

We are a throat waiting to close. Draven Holt makes sure I see him. He stands atop a ridge of snow, broad-shouldered, dark hair bound with a leather cord, eyes like coals banked deep. Red paint slashes his cheekbones. He’s younger than Varek, hungrier, the kind of man who thinks rage alone can make him king. He lifts his arms like a priest.

What in the absolute f- What is wrong with Draven? Seriously, I couldn’t even utter a word after that. All I could do is stand here and try to keep my tears at bay. “Wow, you sure know how to make a girl despise you, don't you brother,” Adrian's words pulled me out of my sinking thoughts. “Shut up,” Draven ordered, his teeth clenched, fighting back the urge to deck Adrian in the face. “Hmm, I would but I can't help how thrilled I am right now,” Adrian said, beyond happy.

I shake my head no with so little movement that I don’t think that any one else could see the gesture. “I Morbius Murdock reject you Julia Henning as my soul bonded mate and life partner” As the first word spills from my lips, I throw my dragon into the cage that I kept him in for years. I blink in horror as I watch as he is torn apart by invisible forces inside my head. I clench my teeth as my legs threaten to buckle from the pain in my chest. As expected my brother releases as furious roar as my mate screams.

He was a predator, that much she'd reckoned but he somehow had a calming way of speaking. “What is your name?" “Nyx.“ “Ahh.. interesting.” he fiddled with the ring on his finger, “beautiful name for a beautiful person.” She felt heat creep up her cheeks and turned a healthy shade of scarlet, until the door swung open and a very much angered Draven stood by the doorway. He scoffed, dragging his hand through his hair, his gaze burning through her like they could see through her soul, his eyes scrutinizing her, his lips holding a permanent scowl.

Darius immediately rushes to Alana's side. Crouching down the Alpha slowly places his mate's head on his lap, her blood staining his clothes and hands. His wolf whimpering inside him, not being able to feel his mate bond anymore. His dark eyes darkened even more. "Mom" a voice whispered, Adryan's eyes filling with tears as he took in the horror before him. His mother's unmoving frame was in his father's arm, the crimson blood of hers painting half of her body as her body slowly started to pale. His ocean blue eyes snapped towards Darius, who was staring back at him, a strange emotion swimming in those ocean blue eyes, Darius didn't know it back then, but that moment was the beginning of his

“A spy?” I nodded. “Yes. Nox thinks Eamon might have him.” A small silence and she tapped her fingers against her arm. “Finding him will be tough. I don’t know his face or his scent.” Of course. Even I barely knew what Draven looked like—I’d only seen him briefly that night at the border, and even then, it had been too dark to catch many details. “Green eyes,” I offered, searching my memory. “He wears a hood like you do. Brown hair, I think?”