Onyx Storm Target Edition Novels & Stories

She obeyed with shaking hands, the familiar weight of the Glock grounding her even as Wyatt's presence set her on fire. "Good." His hand moved higher on her stomach, just below her breasts. "Now I'm going to activate the targets. They're going to pop up at random. Center mass shots, three rounds each. You've got twenty seconds to hit all five. Miss one, and we start over. Understand?" "Yes." "Yes, what?" His voice was rough now, commanding. "Yes, sir." The words slipped out automatically, and she felt him tense behind her. She wasn't the submissive type. That was Honey, not her. How had she let that slip?

I think it’s the killer’s next target: Prince Abdullahi Salim. Miriam snatched the paper from Donovan and widened her eyes to read the red handwriting which read: Next Game: Prince of Dubai; Saturday 4th of April. In a reflex, Miriam shot a stern look at one of the cops and ordered him to get Carlos and his management team under their custody for interrogations about the gaffer's whereabouts.

"Tell me, what will it take for you to reciprocate my affections?" His words hung in the air, and I found myself torn between being honest and sparing his feelings. Taking a deep breath, I mustered the courage to respond. "I will await the Shadowboom Unveiling to make my decision," I said softly, concealing the truth that his pride and pretentiousness repelled me. Stone-heart's eyes narrowed, his face contorting with a volatile mix of frustration and wounded pride. "Regardless of who the Moongoddess chooses as your mate," he vowed, his voice laced with determination, "no one will ever reach my ankle."

Assistant Onyx conveyed. "Prepare."

He didn't even glance their way; his target never changed. Me. I braced myself for the killing blow when another shadow slammed into him midair. I got a better look at him and gasped. "Kristen" His wolf was larger, more commanding, and gleamed in silver under the moonlight. The ground shook as the two collided, snarls ripping the night apart, furs and claws blurred, and for a moment all I could do was clutch the branch in my trembling hands and pray. Kristen was fury incarnate, every strike precise, his dominance forcing the assassin back, inch by inch, but the black wolf fought like one possessed, snapping and lunging with the desperation of a mission. That mattered more than his life.

“Hurry up human. You had your time with our mate, now it’s my time.” “Ok Onyx, but remember, we have to get back, so no funny business.” “Whatever.” Onyx says and pushes his way to the front. He is such an impatient wolf. “I heard what you were thinking human” I quickly shift, and Onyx walks up to Tamaska in all his midnight black glory. Onyx is taller than Tamaska, but only by a little. They are a perfect match. Onyx looks like the night sky and Tamaska looks like the moon itself shining in the night sky.

The staging bay of the Sun’s Fury smelled of recycled air and gun oil. It was a cold, metallic scent that stuck to the back of my throat, tasting like old pennies. Ashren stood by the open drop ramp, the wind from the upper atmosphere whipping his hair into a frenzy. He was armored in the new Onyx plate, matte black, sleek, and humming with a faint, low-frequency vibration designed to scramble thermal sensors. He looked less like a man and more like a shadow cut from the void.

Every trace of it pulled tight around him, condensing into something denser, sharper—no longer a spreading force, but a focused one. A weapon. Rose felt it immediately. The shift from expansion to precision. From pressure to intent. “He’s changing tactics,” Orion said, already moving. Storm didn’t wait. Lightning struck again—but this time, not at him. Around him. A cage of energy meant to contain, to restrict, to force him to stay *present*. It flickered. Held— For half a second. Then shattered as the condensed darkness cut through it like it wasn’t there. Storm swore under her breath.

The nerves are starting to kick in. I am hit with the scent of lemongrass when I walk into Onyx’s room. There are three tables set up for us to get massages. Two hunky looking masseuse and a woman for Storm, you know she has a mate and all, they are awaiting us with cucumber water. I decided to go with a deep tissue massage, goddess knows I need it.

3:10 PM. “Who is Onyx?” I asked. Taren hesitated for a moment. “A lone wolf with a violent record. It attacked handlers. Injured competing wolves. No sponsor is willing to take responsibility. He’s considered unmanageable.” “And they’re killing him,” I said flatly. “Yes.” He answered. I stared at the screen. Something sharp and restless moved through me, the same instinct that always rose when I saw waste disguised as order. “I want to see him,” I said.