Slade Wilson Deathstroke Novels & Stories

the pack doctor advised awkwardly but Slade hardly ever listened to anyone. “Can someone tell me where the fuck she is. What’s the situation of the pack and that motherfucker that had a gun to my mate’s head,” he growled. When he didn’t get an immediate answer, he pulled the needle out of his veins roughly “I’ll kill you if you don’t start talking Marcel,” Asher growled. That wasn’t Slade’s voice, his beast was taking control.

Stan inquired, his gaze fixed upon Derek , who stood with his arms crossed, positioned next to his seated brother at the head of the table. Standing tall and resolute on the opposite side of Killian , Black prepared himself to defend the brothers from any potential threats while also expressing his unwavering support for their cause. Derek cleared his throat, signaling his intention to speak, and firmly placed his hands on the table. "Omegas are far from weak," he began, emphasizing his point. "They are not limited to domestic duties or procreation. Just like us, they possess extraordinary abilities as werewolves."

I heard the front door open and Slade shouting, running down the driveway. “Trey Comstock,” the mystery guy said, and immediately went to reach in his coat, despite the fact he had a gun drawn on him. Did he have a fucking death wish? Gavin put up his other hand and wagged his finger. Trey's head snapped to attention since his name was mentioned. I shoved Juliet further behind me as Slade came running up, his handgun drawn and put it in the guy’s face. Gavin moved to his side and lowered his gun.

“Red, need I remind you I’m Agent Skye—a detective in the CIA? So start speaking right now, or you want me digging things out myself. And you know me, Red… I don’t stop until I get to the depths. The choice is yours.” I paused, then continued with deadly seriousness, not blinking. “So I ask again. Red Antonio Voss… what is going on?” “Nothing is going on, Skye… It’s nothing. For real, I’m fine,” she said again, her voice shaky, eyes fixed on the ground. “Okay,” I said calmly and turned away. I went back to the files and grabbed that particular one with the name Damien Vale tagged WANTED in bold red letters. I read the name out loud and was about to turn to Red when she suddenly rushed into m

It sucked hanging the death of a loved one on someone innocent…well, scrap that not innocent since everything that led us to this point was his doing, I think it's fair to say that Shadow was responsible. Sloane's face fell and he held his hand up in the form of a fist, and immediately his pack halted their attack on us. He walked over to me, and Daniel moved aside to let him pass. He laid a hand on my shoulder, his face creased with pain. His eyes were dark and shadowed with anguish. "I'm so sorry, I can't imagine how you feel or what you're going through.." he looked away and could bet that he was dredging up memories of his wife's painful death. "Accept my condolences…your mate was a sma

He clenched his teeth and roared, “Just you wait. Eastern Ocean won’t let you off!” A huge dent appeared on his chest from Chase’s punch, and his heart exploded instantly. His eyes widened. There was resentment in them. It was not a peaceful death for him! One of the Eastern Ocean’s Eight Heavenly Masters, Sloane Lowe, was dead! At that moment, only silence filled the air.

Celeste smiled sarcastically as she turned her back to leave and as soon as she left, Clive locked the door. 'She has never changed.' as Clive lets out a sigh of relief. Clive started unbuttoning his long sleeved shirt and wiped sweat all over. He don't know if this sweat is still the sweat from the emergency situation or because of Celeste's presence a moment ago. When he was done, he immediately fixed his self and went out of the bathroom. "Oh! Finally, you are done, Dr. Aster! What took you so long? "It is hard to reach up to my back. But I've managed it already."

Twyla is not welcomed on our packlands. We hadn’t known all the things the bond was capable of, until after my mate finally awoken with a miraculous story to tell. Slade had used the bond to bring me back from the brink of death. But it had come at a great cost to him, draining himself, and nearly killing him in the process. I am grateful for this second chance the moon has granted me, but not at the expense of his life. I promised I would kill him myself if he ever did something like that again.

The quality she had described as compelling rather than charming. Ivan Slade had stood that way. I had noticed it at the Alpha Ball, in the three strides I crossed before hitting his jaw. Weight on the left, slight favour of the right side. Ivan Slade was officially dead. I had read the Nightshade healer's report. Three independent witnesses. An official death record filed with the continental pack registry, the same registry where someone with Alpha-level access had recently scrubbed a facial recognition profile. I picked up my phone. Lyra answered on the first ring.

When he opened them again he was back in the grand hall of Reinhold in the shadows, he watched contently as the last members of Divine Victory drew their weapons against Terribor Strife who waited patiently on his throne. His men slowly approached out of the shadows, donned in black and blood red outfits with a mask of a rabid dog. “My orders are to stay in the shadows and not to engage”. Shreftwood stepped forward “You will pay for your crimes Terribor Strife!” Terribor stood from his throne and clicked his fingers, more silhouettes began appearing round the edges of the room. “Will I Shreftwood Swiftrunner? Or will you?!” “I am Death”, Severance whispered again.