Solemn Stranger Novels & Stories

It pulled like a chain, sharp and unbroken. But the cloak, the blood… it made the bond ache like a wound. Amaiya watched the chaos with that same cold smile. She wanted this. She wanted us to tear each other apart. Then, before Serena could answer Rowan, the great doors slammed open. A stranger walked in. He was tall, scar across his cheek, hair dark with streaks of gray. His shoulders carried the weight of long battles. His eyes burned like someone who had seen too much war and lived to hate it.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Now shut your mouth. Unless you don’t want the night to end pleasantly for you.” The man held up his hands in surrender. “Hey man. I didn’t mean anything by it.” “You damn right.” The corners of Palmer’s eyes dropped as he sent a menacing look at the dark haired stranger. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone. Better be good at keeping her safe then you are at hiding your feelings for her,” The stranger said before strolling toward the front of the white painted steel and glass house and disappeared among the groups of people congregating around the house. Palmer’s heart pounded from the stranger’s words. Feelings? What feelings? The stranger was full of shit

Scarlet froze mid-laugh, her stomach knotting at his expression. “Why? Is it against company policy and you’ll have me pay another five million? “ She snapped back. “I could, but I can do much worse.” Easton stepped into her securing her waist with his hand. “Is there a problem?” The stranger asked. Stepping forward. “It doesn’t concern you-” That was when his eyes recognized who the stranger was. It was Dante Moderne. Easton pulled her protectively behind him, and growled, “You’re not welcome here.”

Ivy gave her a meek smile as she watched the stranger led her friend towards the hotel section of the building. She spotted a man seated right beside the exit door. He had a flowing dark hair and it shined in the dimmed light. His hair reminded her of star gazing with her father and she found herself smiling at her childish thought. She couldn't see more of his face as the stranger seemed focus on a newspaper. She sighed and turned her attention back to her drink. Several men approached her but she shot them deadly glares and they all walked away. She kept taking shots waiting for Emily's text message until she became tipsy and she started blanking out.

the driver shouted. "I'm really sorry," said Sofa Boy, and handed over a five hundred peso bill. Then the taxi left and the two of us left. I watched the back of the taxi leave. Have a fight? Have a sweetheart? who? And work! I faced Sofa Boy. "What is your problem?" "Pay," he said. "Huh?" He took some money and handed it to me. I don't get the situation. Why would he give me four thousand? Is it obvious from my face that I need money? Even strangers give me money?

I murmured excitedly, and I was about to begin when there was a loud knock on the door, which compelled me to stop eating. "Such a bother," I said, and with a heavy heart, I was forced to abandon my food to check who was at the door. Interestingly, as I opened the door, I discovered a foreigner, possibly in his teen years. "Can I help you?" I asked, perplexed, seeing the young man's good looks. "Yes, I'd like to know if this is Anita Santillan's house." He inquired, smiling and speaking in a thick British accent, and he's really cute!

Curiosity punched into her system, and she called, “Who are you? Do you live nearby? And what are you doing here at this hour?” “He’s coming for you… too,” the stranger said without turning to face Heather. “Who?” “He’s coming for you too… he’s coming for you too… he’s coming for you too. And this time, he’ll not leave. He’ll eat, he’ll roast, and you’ll cry and die,” the stranger chuckled, a maddening noise that reverberated. Heather covered her ears, afraid if she listened anymore, she’ll consider herself a demented cow.

The raspy voice that belonged to the tattooed muscular man said pressing the revolver even harder on Willy’s left temple. Willy detected a shakiness in the bald muscular man’s once confident raspy voice. “Now I wouldn’t recommend that,” the cold distinctive voice of the new-comer said again. Who else could rob the confidence off any man? Willy turned to confirm, it was indeed the dark cold figure of Oswald the Stranger! The bald muscular man backed away slightly, he now pointed the revolver at Oswald the Stranger. The Stranger was wearing his customary jet black suit with a cold sly smile on his face.

He looked to be in his late fifties. His silver hair was neatly combed despite the storm. There wasn’t a trace of panic on his face. Only confidence. “You’ve gotten older,” Damien said. “So have you.” The stranger smiled. “But unlike me…” “…you’ve become sentimental.” His eyes drifted toward Elena. “A dangerous weakness.” Damien stepped forward, placing himself between the stranger and Elena. “You came all this way to talk?” “I came to reclaim my property.” Daniel’s jaw tightened. “I’m not your property.”

Low, distant, and unfamiliar. And for the first time since Damon returned home, peace no longer felt certain. Somewhere in the marketplace crowd had walked a man who stirred fate itself. A hooded stranger. With a scent like iron and smoke. And a bond that felt like standing at the edge of something dangerous. I lifted my chin slightly, already knowing one thing with certainty: If he had slipped into our territory once…….He is a threat And this time, we are ready.