Predatory Gaze Novels & Stories

Beside me, Rhea swore under her breath. “He sees us,” she hissed. He does, I thought. He sees *me*. His mouth curved. Slow. Deliberate. A half smile, half baring of teeth. Not friendly. Not hostile. Predatory. Playful. *I know who you are,* That look said. *I knew you’d come.* The world narrowed. The war room, the manor, my bed, the borders I’d been told never to cross—all of it faded. It was just that gaze, pinning me there on the ridge.

Predatory. They sweep the room once, cataloging details with military efficiency, before landing on me and going completely still. When our eyes meet, the impact is physical. Like being struck by lightning or hit by a moving vehicle. Every cell in my body responds to that gaze, recognizing something that my conscious mind refuses to accept. He sees me the second he steps through the door. Stops walking. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t look at Elias or scan the empty room or acknowledge anything else in his field of vision.

“I’m your wife, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I have seen you naked by now?” He stares at me with that unflinching, unwavering gaze that rocks me to my core. I’d thought once that this man has never been prey in his life, and I’m right. This look–the look that makes me feel things I can’t explain–is the look of a predator debating their next move to make a swift kill. But then I think of the women he’s used this look on in the past and crack, lowering my gaze to water and turning around, my toes barely brushing the bottom of the pool.

Gavin staggered back, his head snapping backwards, his hand flying up to clutch his nose as a small, bright trickle of blood leaked from his right nostril. For a brief, terrifying moment, I swore his pupils expanded, swallowing the vibrant green until his eyes were pools of solid, feral black. And he looked at me like a predator… a lustful, starving predator, with an untamed and unkempt desire hidden in their depths. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly tight, and blinked. But when I did, his eyes were once more vibrant emerald pools. I must’ve imagined it.

Unfortunately I stop short as my back hits the wall behind me and I watch him helplessly mesmerized by his movements. I'm so dreaming. But I'm really not as he stops in front of few, just a metre away. Eyes hooded and posture of a predator, like he's on a kill. And I'm so ready to be killed. I don't move from my position as I watch him move closer, arrested in his stare. He doesn't stop until he's an inch away and my breathing immediately sky rockets as I feel myself heaving. His hand comes forth to lightly hold onto my jaw with his fingers, tracing the outline of it, gently as if analyzing his prey and making sure its worth devouring.

What's in it for you, though? With her heart thumping in her chest, Isabella met his eyes. She had practiced all potential angles and was ready for this. She fought to maintain her composure and stay calm under the intense scrutiny of his predatory gaze, which seemed to pierce through her every thought. It felt as though he was patiently biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment when she would make a mistake or slip up, revealing any hint of vulnerability.

My Guards assure me he's still there, which means at least that he's not escaping. I can't shake the uneasy feeling though. It's completely drained me. “I'm going to see a Gaze Reader,” I mutter of a spoon of cereal. Gaze Readers are magical beings from the Devotion Pack. They have the ability to look into your eyes and see what you have seen, and what you will. I need to know if what I've been seeing is real, or just a fabrication in my mind. “I suppose that's an option,” Cal mused, giving me an immediate feeling that he's not fully opposed to the idea, however, seems speculative.

"After the papers are signed next week, you'll receive the first anniversary gift from the Donna." Outside the window, the rain gradually stopped. The hunter had already closed the net, leaving the prey still sleeping peacefully in the gentle trap, unaware.

A deep, throbbing ache has bloomed between my thighs, and my body is trying to soothe the foreign hunger building within me. The feral hunger I see flashing in his eyes intensifies the moment he catches my movement, he keeps going, driving into the woman with a renewed, savage vigor, but his focus never leaves me. Then, right before my eyes, I watch as his canines slowly elongate, slipping past his lower lip. The brilliant blue in his eyes glazes over completely, replaced by a predatory, glowing amber and his gaze bores literal holes into my soul.

Something I couldn’t name. Lust. Possession. Protection. I could see it in his gaze, every taut muscle in his body, the way his jaw clenched, the way he moved with the predatory grace of someone who owned the air around him. Before the guards could even react, he moved. It was impossible. Fast. Too fast to track, too deliberate to be anything but lethal. A blur of movement.