The Black Dahlia Novels & Stories

Dahlia's POV I'm so grateful Dai was at the club to help me, I don't know what I would have done if he wasn't there. I'm admiring the view of the city from his beautiful living room when he returns with our drinks and invites me to join him. I'm sure the other rooms of this pent house are as beautiful as the living room. Dai was dressed casually today with a leather jacket, t-shirt, some tight fitting jeans and a biker boots. gosh! he looks so good.

"He'll find out the truth. You'll regret ever messing with his head---I hate you Nathan....." "Burn in hell bitch" he spat and in that moment, Mrs Selena Dane took her last breath. Grinning maniacally, Skull took out his knife and chopped off the dead woman's fingers. **** DAHLIA Arch stared at me, emotionless. He looked really hot today. He still looked like a wreck, considering the nasty eyebags and the unshaved stubble covering his jaw. His shiny black hair was pulled back in four bold braids that made the color of his eyes stand out even more.

He showed her no compassion and that's when the young woman felt that her cause was truly lost. For a moment, the young woman could hardly breathe. No! Not now... she said to herself. Not now... She began to make the hundred steps under the vigilant eye of the man. She was choking... She had more and more difficulty to breathe and in a last look of pity towards the man, she felt herself losing her balance... She closed her eyes and fainted. Before closing her eyes, she had time to see the face of the stranger who had caught her in time... Black hole... ***

Now, Dahlia was the one having a meltdown. Chloe was still swooning over how handsome Gideon was when she turned to see Dahlia's ashen face. She asked, "What's wrong?" Dahlia grabbed her wrist and gripped it tightly. She was scared. Chloe was worried. "Who spooked you?" "G-Gideon Blackwood." She couldn't even get his name out without stuttering. "You know him?" Chloe was a sucker for good looks and loved gazing at handsome men. She was dying to know more about Gideon.

Three women descended after her, all worthy of admiration for their beauty. Blair recognized the effects her appearance had on people. She was used to indignant looks, always wondering if a woman could be that beautiful. "Let's go in" Daliah called. She was a symbol of black beauty, curvaceous and tall, with curls curling down to her shoulders. She looked tempting in a sparkly dress and heels braided across her calves.

"Cassia, I can explain—" Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from the doorway. Dahlia burst in. Her body was covered in red marks, her hair a mess, her eyes filled with desperation. She threw herself into Zane’s arms, sobbing hysterically. "Zane! Save me! She's a monster!" Zane’s pupils dilated as he saw the state she was in. His gaze swept over the "Blackmoon Pack's Slut" brands covering her skin, and his face turned to stone.

As she finished clearing up like any mother would so she checked the doors and windows to be sure they were locked before switching off the lights and retiring to bed, a pleased smile on her lips while she did all this. At midnight, Olive began to dream again. This time she woke up in a field of white lilies wearing a white dress. She looked around and all she could see for miles where lilies all white in color. She had never felt so at peace. This peaceful feeling was however ruined by a dark fog that suddenly appeared in the distance and began to sweep over the flowers. Every flower that was touched by the fog would wither and regrow as a black dahlia. The fog kept growing closer and more

he said, spinning around and pointing at a young Omega, who quivered where she stood, “introduce yourself, and then repeat what you told me.” “Hi.” She gulped. “I’m Dahlia. I’m from the Cold Star pack. I was captured and held hostage by Red Ripper, but they had no use for me. I was too small and too weak for them to ever take much notice of me, so I was left in the cells to die. I was to be used in their witch’s experiments, but…”

❦ Rosalind ❦ I stared at the woman in the doorway and for a second my brain just stalled. Dahlia Renly. Of all people. Dahlia, my ex-bestfriend from university who’d slept with Orlov, dated him, then pathetically kept chasing him, was standing there with Viktor’s gun aimed at her frontal lobe. “Wait,” I called loudly. I padded down the stairs in my thin silk nightdress, my heart beating so hard I could feel it in my throat.

I don't care about that answer either. “Don't go next time.” Dahlia is a girl who is always obedient and gentle. She shouldn't be at the bar. "I don't like it."