One Dark Window Book Novels & Stories

Chapter 29 I watched the city lights dance across the large windows of my penthouse as I whirled the wine in my glass. The world outside was contentedly ignorant of the storm building inside locked doors. And Dorian also? He was unaware that the first genuine crack in his kingdom was about to break into something permanent. On the table, my phone buzzed with brightness cutting across the poorly lit room. I grabbed it, the slow, anticipating cadence of my heart hammering.

She relived the piercing pain of re-entering her body and bolted up in bed, trembling as she gasped for air. The room was abnormally dark, and she could barely see her hand in front of her. Eva, thinking Tara needed as much undisturbed rest as possible, took great pains to tightly secure the drapes over the windows to prevent any evening air from coming in through the cracks and help muffle outside noises.

I had been thinking differents of Liam torturing me once he got me, he would torture me to death this time, I acted out of his bearings. Somebody knocked on the door while my face was swollen from the crying session, I wiped my tears and permitted them to come in, the lights of the room was still off and I was sitting at the bed in the dark. The door opened and a shadow of a mid-height lady formed, I focused my eyes to recognise who it was but my eyes chose not to cooperate with me, “Jenna, my dear,” I heard a soothing motherly voice calling me out, the voice which belonged to Miss. Beckett, “Why are you sitting in the dark?” she was about to hit the lights when I interrupted her in my grogg

But when Morana nodded and allowed Daniel to do what he should have done, it was at that moment that Daniel didn't hold back at all anymore. Beat after beat that made the bed under them creak, mixed with the sighs of the two of them. It is this sound that dominates the hotel room they occupy. Echoing between the bedroom walls and bouncing off the ceiling… The moonlight that penetrates in, becomes a silent witness for the two people who are pushing themselves to achieve worldly pleasures that cannot be described in words. Again and again… They did it all night… # # # The room was dark and gloomy because none of the lights were on, while the owner was holding his cellphone tightly and standing

“IT’S JUST I HAD a different book in mind when ink spilled on this one, plus what’s left to do in a finished book?” They, of course, ignored me Completely probably deciding if I would not explain, they were just going to proceed. One of the three waved their hand above the inky darkness we were standing on, and instantly a book on a pedestal was in front of them on the floor. It showed off my title, ‘1001 Dark Tales’. I instantly held my breath, hoping they didn’t realize what that meant. But if they had, they said nothing. Instead, they just started flipping through the pages of the book, looking for which store to choose.

He grabbed the door frame and positioned himself between me and the shattered window. Two wolves. Human form but shifted at the edges. Eyes glowing, muscles tensed, moving with the coordinated precision of hunters who had done this before. They came through the broken window one after the other. Fast. Silent. Professional. The first one saw me and lunged. I met him with the knife. Silver blade caught the light from the street as I drove it into his shoulder. He howled and staggered. I twisted the blade, pulled it free, and kicked him backward into the filing cabinet. It crashed over and he went down hard.

I am trapped. The door opens. A figure steps into the room. Tall. Wearing dark clothes. A hood covers their face. I cannot see anything except the outline of their body and the glint of something in their hand. A knife. "Please," I whisper. "Please do not—" The figure moves toward me. I scream. --- The window explodes. Glass shatters everywhere. Moonlight floods the room. And through the broken window, a second figure crashes inside. Larger than the first. Faster. Dark hair. Gray eyes burning with fury.

It felt like being watched. From the walls. From the glass. From something too old to fit inside a room. The first window shattered. Not all at once. A hairline crack raced across the tall pane overlooking the city, then another, then another, until the reinforced glass groaned and split in great jagged fractures. Wind knifed in, cold and sharp, dragging curtains outward. The noise brought footsteps. Voices. Doors opening. “Althea!” Hiraya’s voice, somewhere down the hall.

[Killian] I don't turn on the lights. The penthouse swallows me in darkness, the city's glow bleeding through floor-to-ceiling windows like a wound that won't close. I stand at the glass, whiskey in hand, not drinking. Just holding it. The weight feels necessary somehow—something solid when everything else is shifting beneath my feet. My wolf is losing its mind.

He lunged forward and snatched the bracelet with such force that my mother's skin tore, leaving a raw, bloody mess. As my mother's screams filled the air, he swung his hand and sent the bracelet flying out the window. Then, with her eyes wild and red, my mother dove after it. "Mom!" I cried out in horror. I reached out desperately to catch her, but it was like she just passed right through my ghostly arms. She hit the ground with a heavy thud. The hallway erupted into an uproar! Samuel, shocked to his core, sprinted to the window, his face drenched in a cold sweat. "It's just a bracelet, for crying out loud! Was it worth all this?"