Series By Sylvia Day Novels & Stories

Then again, I also knew that opening the door might seal our fate for good. Julie stared at me, her eyes wide. “Don’t answer it,” she whispered. “I’ll just peek out the window.” “No!” she whispered back. I ignored her and crept to the front window, my hands shaking. Outside I saw Jesse leaning against the door, the wolves circling him with exposed teeth, snarling and drooling. “It’s Jesse!” I shouted back to Julie. Then, from out of the darkness, a tall shadow emerged. I gasped again as I made out his

Silas moved through the ridge‑line forest like a shadow, boots silent on the frosted pines. Dawn’s thinning light cast steel‑blue shadows across his face, each breath a plume of cold air and rage that burned hotter. He stopped at a ,ruined cairn,the place he and his wife had first met, and later bound by love. He knelt, fingertips tracing lichen‑crusted stones. The memory came sharp: her laughter, fierce and warm, the promise they’d made to protect their daughters—together.

LENA The sun was setting on a quiet Sunday evening, casting warm hues of orange and pink over the backyard. Roman and I sat side by side on the wooden swing, our fingers loosely intertwined. The kids were playing on the lawn, their laughter echoing in the air. It felt... peaceful. Something I hadn’t experienced in a long time. The past few months had been a journey—one full of growth, healing, and hard decisions. But now, sitting here with Roman, the children’s laughter in the background, I could feel that we had finally reached a place where we could breathe.

Maybe not all men are all bad after all. I spend the whole day with Sylvana; it’s late and dark when I finally walk across to my own home and yawn as I get into the hallway, letting myself in. I can tell by the silence down here that my parents have already headed to bed, and as all my siblings all moved out before I ever moved in, then the house is pretty silent. I drop my jacket on the rack and go to head upstairs quietly. Glad to have the solitary time and not really interact while I am tired.

It was more for Kendra's sake, but Demitri would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy an excuse to spend more time with his friends. Every Friday after school, Kendra, Steve, and Kyle would join them for book club. They each took turns picking the book, but as usual Becca and Demitri were the only two that actually cared. While they had written summaries and detailed notes about the book, the others brought blank paper most the time so they could catch just enough facts to make it seem like they read it.

I watch intently with my brows raised as he removes a sizable oil painting from its place on the wall, unveiling a hidden safe that had been seamlessly integrated into the structure. I pivot on my heel and survey the colossal collection of books that had escaped my memory until now. The tips of my fingers delicately graze the uppermost edges of the book spines as my eyes glide over the titles. My fingers hover over one book in particular. It's a book that is very improper in Alessandros’ collection. This book is a historical romance novel written by Sylvia Day. One of Roses’ all-time favourite authors. Curiosity gets the better of me and I start to slide the book out, “come here, tesoro.” I

We’ll see how Sylvia keeps attracting the wrong kind of men… and how she ends up in a different kind of mess altogether. If you’d like a separate book about Mario, maybe watching him fall for a girl who’s the total opposite of Sylvia, drop a comment and let me know. I might just write it. THE END OF BOOK ONE. 💔✨

On the opposite side of the room there is a small chair in the corner of the room and I am not at all surprised to see that it is full. Sylvia has made herself comfortable in the chair. She is sitting in the chair sideways with her legs hanging over the arms. She is swinging her legs staring up at the ceiling. "It took you long enough to wake up," she says as she continues to stare at the ceiling. "How long was I out?" I ask her. "Two days," she says and she turns her head in my direction. I have to admit that she is beautiful. I can see why Ward's parents chose her as a mate for him. Her beautiful blonde hair flows effortlessly down her back and her blue eyes twinkle even in the low lig

"Spare me." She stubbornly stuffed the bouquet into my hands. "I've been thinking, and if there's one thing I could take back, it was sabotaging your pens. Still, we're very lucky it only ended up backfiring on Johnny and me. Seamus, I'm sorry, I really am." My mind wandered off again. I was taken back to the day I made that call to the future. The mere mention of Zoe's name filled the future me with enough fury to carpet bomb a whole city and then some. Unbeknownst to her, her sabotage did work in another timeline, and the other me had suffered for it.

Tyler patted her shoulder, voice teasing, “Not half bad for a first run. Barely singed.” Serenya laughed shakily, leaning against her knees. Inside her chest, Solana whinnied softly, hooves thundering, a quiet affirmation: We are one. We endure. We rise. ***** The second day began before sunrise, the sky above the Phoenix Sanctum streaked with violet and gold. Serenya’s muscles ached in ways she hadn’t known possible, her lungs still burning from the previous day. Yet the fire that had danced harmlessly around her yesterday now seemed to glare with expectation, almost impatient.