Revenge Of Night Novels & Stories

The night was colder than I expected as I stepped out of Blackwood Tower, the weight of the proposition Alexander had laid before me still heavy on my shoulders. His words echoed in my mind: "Revenge." The allure of it pulsed through me, awakening something deep inside that had long since been buried beneath the hurt. I had been broken, humiliated, but now? Now, I was ready to take back what was mine.

"Then I'm going to start from scratch. I'm going to build my way up and make sure I get my revenge. I'm not just going to sit around and wait for them to catch me again while nursing their betrayal." She sighed. "Fine. What are you planning to do?”

Callie shouted, sweat dripping down her forehead from the intense effort. Without hesitation, I grabbed the Dark God by the neck, tightening my grip. With my other hand, I seized his abdomen and, with a brutal motion, tore him in half. A piercing scream echoed as, instead of entrails, imprisoned souls burst free from his body. Nocturnus’s form disintegrated into black ash, leaving only a sharp-toothed grin atop the pile of dust. "Damn you!" Sora Rhea erupted in fury, glaring at us with blazing hatred. "I will have my revenge—mark my words!"

His jaw tightened, and a muscle twitched in his cheek. He stared at the photo, his eyes searing, ready to explode any second. The easy-going demeanour he'd displayed earlier vanished, replaced by a hardened resolve. How could Matthew have done this? He had dreamt about this day every day for the past five years. The day he'd take revenge on the man who took his entire family away from him. He couldn't wait... he was going to— "I'm not handing him over." Adonis burst his bubble, his voice hard.

"I have a bad feeling about tonight. Sophia nodded, her heart racing with the howls. She had to be alert. What she didn't know at that moment was that this was only the beginning of night sleepers, secrets, and choices, with a betrayal right in the middle of it all.

As the moon hung high in the night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape, Damien’s rage simmered just below the surface, boiling over as he finalized his plans for revenge against Carl and Ralph. He could no longer contain the tumult within him; it was time to act. In the dead of night, Damien gathered his most trusted warriors. They stood before him, eyes gleaming with anticipation, ready to follow him into battle. “Tonight, we reclaim what is ours,” he declared, his voice low but firm. “Carl and Ralph think they can threaten my family and take my pack without consequence. We will show them that they are gravely mistaken.”

“If you drive me to the clinic, I’ll fully accept your offer to help.” Bryan looked hesitant and said, “Are you sure that you’re going to change your face? Just because you want to seek revenge?” “Well, taking revenge is your idea to begin with, right?” Ginger pointed out. “Plus, I did really want to make their lives a living hell like what they did to mine, so we’re even.” Bryan went silent for a while and heaved a sigh. “You don’t need to help me,” Ginger said. “Just don’t stop me, it’s all I ask.”

The night was darker than black when I turned the door knob and it gave way under my light push. I could smell my preys, and it felt really intimate to me. Just a little more time for me to reach them. His daughters. Four of them, ripe for the taking, each a carefully chosen instrument of my vengeance. This wasn’t just about sex; it was about reclaiming my dignity, about carving my pain into his flesh, one daughter at a time. The oldest first, then the next, savouring each conquest, until I reached the youngest, the sweet, untouched eighteen-year-old, the grand finale of my carefully orchestrated symphony of revenge.

Serena sneered coldly, staring at the face she once loved so deeply. It had been love at first sight back then. But now, when she looked at him, her heart was calm—untouched, unshaken. The greatest sorrow is when the heart dies. The true opposite of love isn’t hate—it’s indifference. And that’s exactly what she felt for him now. No anger. No pain. Just silence. The Art of Revenge was never about rage—it was about letting go. She didn’t need to destroy them. Her joy was the masterpiece. And they would suffer, helplessly, watching her shine.

"I'm sorry, Grace. The forest really isn't safe. I have to find him. I promise I'll come back and finish this with you." I gave him a faint smile, though I could barely breathe through the pain in my chest. He would not come back once he left. That was always how it ended. As he bent down to comfort Laila, I quietly poured the bond-breaking potion into the wine glass. I walked over and held it out to him, my voice soft but firm. "Finish this, and I'll forgive you." Philip smiled and finished it in one gulp. He put the glass down and left with Laila without a second glance.