Skin Of The Night Novels & Stories

The cold air of the lab touched my skin as I unraveled the silk bindings that had hidden my identity for so long. Dorian turned briefly to a cabinet and retrieved a thick glass jar. Inside was a viscous silver liquid that seemed almost alive. “What is that?” I asked, uneasy, crossing my arms over my chest. “This is Skin-Alchemist,” Dorian explained, slipping on thin medical gloves. “A high-level synthetic skin. Once applied, the liquid will harden, flatten your chest, and perfectly blend with your natural skin tone and texture. Even the sharpest wolf’s sense of smell won’t detect the difference.”

* * * We walked into the Ozin, a modern plush club with beige carpeting inside and magnificent doors tinged with a subtle shade of gold. The semi darkness, combined with the scent of liquor and smoke from shisha made me feel completely at home. " Bella, your boy Luke is here, " Caren called her eyes pointing directly at their table. I followed their gaze and my eyes landed in Luke. He had a good paying job, a nice house and everything he ever wanted with a big forehead in toe. If I said he was insecure about his looks that would be an understatement. The first day he met Bella, he had pretended to be asthmatic and covered his head with a big hoodie, that was a lie of course, he didn't lo

Lashe replied and Tolu froze as she turned to Him. “So you changed the time because I told you Ibk used to sneak out to watch your concerts at night?” Tolu asked and Lashe sighed and nodded. “She’s probably not the only one who does that. I have a lot of fans and if performing in the night could put them in anger, I should do something about it” Lashe replied and Tolu couldn’t help the smile that spread across her lips. “I suddenly get why Ibk likes you so much” Tolu said slowly and Lashe strained his ears.

The storm-choked air seemed to tighten, heavy with cold intent. From the upper cliffside, Natalia Cross emerged—alive, unbroken, and deadlier than ever. Her scarred face gleamed under the distant moonlight, her combat gear sleek and lethal, like she’d been reborn in the fire. She raised her hand slowly, signaling her remaining forces—drones, guards, and gunships. Her cold, calculating smile twisted into something darker... inevitable. “Did you really think... you could escape?” she hissed, her voice sharp as broken glass.

Then the full moon appears in the sky, and its light falls on her—on me, the girl huddled on the floor. The second it touches her skin, something snaps. It’s like a lock breaks deep inside, releasing whatever’s been caged all this time. The shift starts suddenly, brutal and unforgiving. There’s a sharp, agonizing crack that echoes in the silence, and she screams—a raw, desperate sound that bounces off the walls. Her hands clutch at her sides as her body twists, bending in ways it shouldn’t. Bones snap and reform, one after the other, like someone’s pulling her apart and putting her back together wrong. Her skin stretches, tears, heals again, and it keeps going, relentless.

Underneath the black satin, my skin was a map of secrets. I could feel them even without looking—the faint lines on my thighs where I had pressed my own fingernails in too deep during the lonely nights. The bruises and burns on my skin from the electric shocks. The small, round pale spots on the small of my back and the back of my arms where the doctor’s lightning had burned the life out of my skin. I felt a sudden urge to hide, to curl up and pull the blankets over my head so he wouldn't see the wreckage.

The river's roar filled the night, a soothing yet thunderous symphony drowning out the distant howls of the pack settling into their dens, mist rising from the water like ethereal wolves dancing in approval. My hands roamed bold and unyielding over her leathers, fingers deftly unlacing the ties with urgent tugs that bordered on desperation, the cords whispering protests as they gave way. Inch after inch of her fevered skin exposed to the cool night air—porcelain curves glowing under the moon, marked faintly by the love bites from earlier that bloomed like purple wildflowers across her collarbone.

She was no match for the older werewolf’s strength who was now just defending himself, without attacking her. The struggle between the two gave Skin enough time to get back on his feet. He was now ready for a fresh attack. He placed himself in front of the already enraged werepanther who had now managed to get away from Roxy’s grip. Skin held his right hand up and beckoned deep purple rays of light. He threw the blinding rays of light at the warepanther, in an attempt to immobilize him.

Plugging it in, she clicked the 'play' button. Facing the approaching journalists and onlookers, she smiled gently and said, "New Chesire Group proudly presents the 'Crystal Elegance Skin' skincare series. Please enjoy." The large screen instantly lit up. Clouds billowed, mist dispersed, and with incredibly pleasant classical music, a slender figure emerged slowly from the clouds. The azure sea naturally parted before her, gradually revealing a captivating figure that seemed obscured by a veil of mist. It was Wanda. On the big screen, her skin was as white as snow, breathtaking and flawless.

The incident at the club changed something in Caine. He became more possessive, more creative in his domination. A few days later, he came home with a large, flat box. “I have a new project for you,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a dark, artistic light. He opened the box. Inside, nestled in black foam, were several rolls of thin, black latex sheeting and a small canister of adhesive. “What is this?” I asked. “Your new skin,” he said. “Tonight, you are not a person. You are a piece of art. A living sculpture. And I am the artist.”