Romantic Hero Novels & Stories

Humble, sweet, understanding ,down to earth and a perfect gentleman. A man who has strength of character. Power of words And heart of emotions. A man who doesn't class people instead treat rich and poor equally. And may be that was one of the reasons I Alessandro Romano fell madly in love with a poor orphan girl. Who had nothing No status, no riches ,no family name. Nothing but a pure soul, a bright smile and golden heart. Good looks backed by bank balance no doubt made large share of girls attracted towards me. But those girls were nothing like her or so I thought.

But that won't be good for my family, all the work we have put in, to make me who I am, to ensure we reach the level and status we have attained so far will all be for naught. I struggled to take my eyes off him and his dangerously handsome face. The legend of madmax itself has a romantic lining to it. He is every girls dream. They all dream to have a man so totally possessive, he would bring the world to it's knees for his mate. These type to me and my people are called barbarians. But as I stare at him throughout dinner, I notice that there is nothing barbaric about him. He is magnificent in his ways, the tiny movement of his hands and fingers as he speaks. His lips as he chews his food.

He shrugged then took a sip of his drink. No. No, this couldn't be happening. I'd worked too hard, come too far, invested too much effort to lose to some nobody who'd just shown up. "Even if that's true," I said, my voice harder than I intended, "it doesn't matter. Destined mates aren't everything. Plenty of Alphas choose mates based on politics and power rather than some mystical bond." "True." Ryan's smile was knowing. Almost mocking. "But Damon's always been a romantic at heart. Believes in that destiny shit more than most. If she really is his mate, he's not going to let her go easily."

“Then what do you think it is?” I took a deep breath, trying to find the words. “Well, from what I’ve seen, it doesn’t feel like… romance. Adam looks at Aria like… well, like he’s responsible for her. Like he would do whatever it took to protect her. But there’s no… I don’t know… possessiveness, if that makes sense?” Dante clenched his fists, his expression unreadable, though I could see the hurt beneath the surface. “So he’s just her… what? Her knight in shining armour?”

Even if it meant robbing her of the one special moment she looked forward to most. She’d never felt so conflicted. Her desire clashed with the grief of losing her father and she could find no way to rationalize Romero’s actions. Still, she craved him like her next breath. What did that make her? A traitor to those who cared for her? A victim of Stockholm? Or a reckless angel–willingly throwing herself over the edge to fall for a devil? And what a handsome devil he was.

We'd both of us turned in on ourselves, instead of reaching out to each other. It was only when I realised that my so-called love stories were always pretty lacklustre that it dawned on me how truly drab my own love story was. I'd been looking for a picture of an ideal hero, but I’d found no-one amongst the sleekly groomed male models in my magazine. I wanted him to be sandy-haired, handsome but not clichéd, quite beautiful but in a rugged sort of way. He had to be tall, and wear glasses, and — I realised suddenly — look exactly the way Mike had looked, in the early happy days of our marriage.

An Awakenist valued only sincerity. I had believed her. That was why I had restrained my burning passion and love for her and lived the way she wanted. It was my proof of sincerity. "Romantic things?" Hera's bashful voice drifted into my ears. "Oh, shucks. There were a lot. He's really the biggest romantic I've ever had the pleasure of meeting in my life.

"Why the master's sister, of all the souls in this manor?" Romulus turned to him slowly. Something flickered in his eyes, something hungry. "Her purity draws me, Henchman." He inhaled — long and deliberate, as though tasting the very air of the room. "Her maidenhood. It drifts through the very like steam rising from a fresh cup, rich and warm and calling to every base instinct I carry. She is untouched, untainted." His voice dropped lower. "She is the hand that can calm the raging storm in me — the insatiable hunger of a Desert Wolf that has never once been quieted. I want her by my bedside this very evening. An Ashworth, a royalty. She is the key that unlocks—"

Prologue Grey If you are looking for a flawless male character, this is not for you. I repeat this is not for you. If you are looking for that dashing, successful, Romantic, loving, handsome, and perfect man, I am not the one. I am far from being perfect. And if you're thinking I'm going to be somehow redeemed by some woman, sorry not sorry to burst your bubble. I am not redeemable.

I smirked and asked why he liked them, and he said that they were different from other flowers and were exceptionally beautiful. "Wow. I'm getting a poetic, hopeless romantic vibe from you, " I said. He blushed slightly and said, "Well maybe I am a hopeless romantic. It would explain why I'm still here and haven't left your pack like you wanted me to." I smirked and nodded. The night went on with us talking about random things and finding out more about each other. Ryker's favourite colour was blue and green just like Deamian. He loved sun rises and not sunsets because he explained that sunrises reminded him of new beginnings. His parents had died in his old pack forcing him to become a rogu