One Dark Window Book Novels & Stories

Slowly I start to work at one of the windows, but as I pull it open, it starts to make a loud crack. I stand in complete haunting silence as I wait for someone to rush in from outside. Yet. Nothing. I slowly push myself up and slip my legs one by one out the open window. It is completely pitch dark; there is no way of knowing if there is someone out here until I am on top of them. But after a save few steps, I start to feel that I have made it. But then… As I am trying to disappear into the darkness… I wait… But, still, nothing…

JULIAN ST. CLAIR’S POV *Low lighting. Shadows cling to the bookshelves, stretching like secrets. Rain whispers against the tall windows. The storm outside is gentle — almost tender. I sunk my bottocks in my chair, alone at my desk, a half-empty glass of whiskey in my hand. A bottle of something old and expensive rests beside me.*

And this is how the last story about Light and Darkness that I wanted to present to you ends. It was certainly an extraordinary journey, showing different stories, but at the same time touching the same topic - can two such opposing poles as Light and Darkness connect at some point? I'll leave it to your own choice, but one thing is for sure - as Miyuki said in Book 4, wanting to stop the battle between vampires and wizards - Light and Darkness certainly couldn't exist without each other. If there was only Light but no Darkness, what would be its meaning? Likewise, if there was only Darkness in the world, wouldn't its existence be pointless without trying to "devour" the Light?

The city looks like a blanket of little lights below me.The only light is from the buildings outside my big window. I like the dark. It's true. In the dark, you see what things really are. I stand at the window, a glass of whiskey in my hand. The ice is all melted. I've been standing here a long time. Watching the little cars. The little people. Tomorrow, one of those little people becomes mine. The door behind me opens with a soft click. I didn’t turn. I know the sound of his shoes on the floor. Silas.

Here I was, nearing the end of my time in college, with no real certainty as to what the hell my next step was. I knew I wanted to get in government in some fashion, State Department, something like that. I knew it would happen or work out eventually, but right now I was feeling pretty low. And maybe that was the perfect time for a predator to seek me out. What if this guy was like Wyatt? I mean Haven said he was young and handsome, but everybody thought Wyatt was hot. I wouldn't even know it because we're going to be in the fucking dark. The idea of meeting a handsome stranger in the dark was kind of alluring to me I had to admit, but why not just ask me on a date?

🌹_______________ Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light 🌹_______________ I kept everything in order and swept the library with some other girls. I wasn't in a hurry, so I spent so much time there. Soon after, I was done I went to the counter to tell the lady I'm going. Senior David came in immediately and dropped a book on the counter for the lady. "You came to return the book, it's past school hours" she told him in a very harsh tone.

"Because I haven't broken you yet. Because I let you keep that fire in your eyes." "You couldn't put it out if you tried," she breathed. "Is that a challenge?" He didn't wait for an answer. He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the floor-to-ceiling window. The city lights of New York blurred behind them, a million indifferent witnesses to the chaos about to unfold. He pressed her back against the cool glass. The contrast—the cold window against her spine and the scorching heat of Dark’s body against her front—made her head spin.

But my body had never been good at following orders when desire crept in. I set the mug aside and stood, crossing to the window. Snow continued to fall outside, soft and relentless. Streetlights cast pale halos on the white-covered pavement. Somewhere in this frozen city, Nikolai Volkov was going about his night, unaware that an American agent had crossed an ocean to slip beneath his armor. I pressed my palm to the glass and felt the cold bite through my skin again. My breath fogged the pane. “Slow,” I whispered to the empty room. “One step at a time.”

I clung to his shoulders, nails digging in, face buried in his neck. He stopped in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. The city sprawled below us—lights glittering like scattered diamonds, cars tiny moving specks, people invisible at this height but still there. Still watching, maybe, if they looked up. He pressed my back to the cold glass. I hissed at the contrast—hot skin against icy window. He thrust once—slow, deep—pinning me there. “Look at them,” he whispered against my ear. “All those people down there… they could look up right now and see you. See me fucking you against this window like a desperate little slut.”

Author’s POV The Same Night—A Dark Room The room was eerily dark except for the thin rays of moonlight streaming through a small window located high up the wall. It was the only window inside, barely large enough for the air to pass through. For the first few minutes, everything stayed still. The silence in the room was heavy, the kind that made the heart beat louder than usual. The soft rustle of the breeze outside mixed with the creaking of the window frame was the only sound that could be heard until the sudden chirping of a bird unexpectedly sliced through the night air.