Rob Stark Novels & Stories

Power crackles across his frame, ancient sigils blazing briefly along his ribs. He staggers—but holds. Midnight remembers being hunted, he snarls. And it learned to bite back. He lunges. The impact between Prime and Arbiter shatters the air. Shockwaves ripple outward, hurling wolves like leaves. I slam into a tree hard enough to splinter bark, pain flaring white-hot down my spine. Ethan’s there instantly, hauling me up. “Rory, talk to me.” “I’m fine,” I lie, shaking. “I need—time.”

It was the sob of a child who has been called in from the cold. The crack beneath the cradle groaned. The crimson dimmed to a sullen ember. On the white stone, beside LIRA, a faint shape rose back to the surface. *ARI—* Not complete. Not yet. But returning. Footsteps hammered on the stairs. Caleb came down them three at a time, blood running from a cut above his eye, sword dark to the hilt. He saw me standing, saw the dimmed cradle, and something in his face collapsed into relief so total he had to brace a hand on the wall.

Rob was trembling all over even as he lay sprawled on the floor, his gaze blank as his convictions vaporized. "Still going to be stubborn, Rob?" Vicky demanded icily. "I…" Rob's jaw hung open, unable to speak. Still, he was eventually hiding his face in his palm as he bawled, "H-How did this happen?! I treated him like my brother! How could he do this?!" Frank looked on in contempt at Rob's miserable breakdown. Forget being stupid—he was supposed to be the heir to one of the Four Families of Morhen, and he was crying?!

I was wrong. “Yes, but–” I was cut off when Ricco gave Nikolas a machete. No. “You may think the interaction was harmless and maybe it was. Baby, Carlo knew what he was getting himself into when he touched you like you were his bitch. Now he’s crying like a figo.” (figo - pussy)