The Gray House Novels & Stories

I don't care if anyone sees me or if I end up on the news my anger will never let this man go free. "Listen, dude, I didn't come here to play. I came here for answers. Now quit playing and tell me what being a grey wolf means." His smile isn't there anymore, he looks as confused as ever. "I'm not playing with you Chloe, you were born a grey werewolf. Your father was a grey werewolf, you're a grey werewolf. Grey werewolves are more powerful than regular werewolves, grey wolves are also the only breed of werewolves to not be controlled by the moon. You all can turn at will and it won't even hurt." He chuckles. "Y'all are lucky bastards."

" ‘He loves me as a hard working secretary, not his son's girlfriend,’ I thought in my head. I nodded, forcing a faint smile onto my face. Everything about my past with Damien still weighed on my hindbrain as I began considering what Mr. Gray was going to do to me. By the time we reached the Gray estate, I must say that it all felt just a little daunting. This was a house of considerable size, ancient in its elegance, while the long sprinkling gardens seemed to extend well out of my vision. Taking a deep breath to collect myself, we headed for the front door with Aiden's arm around me, protective, shielding me.

"Will do. And Gray? Whatever's going on with your mystery woman... be careful. I should have an update on Joy Smith's husband soon." Grayson nodded, watching his friend climb into a waiting car before heading to his own vehicle. The drive home took twenty minutes. Twenty minutes where Grayson's mind raced with everything Nate had said about Prue, everything he'd observed, all the pieces that didn't quite fit together. His brownstone appeared, warm light glowing from the windows. He'd left them on this morning, not wanting to come home to darkness. Morgan's ghost still haunted these rooms sometimes, but he was exorcising her piece by piece. The bed had been the first thing to go.

“Second house.” “That’s it?” I blink. “You’re just gonna leave me here like I’m in a Grimm fairytale?” “She’s expecting you.” Right. Thanks for the comfort. I swing my bag over my shoulder, boots crunching gravel, and step onto the path. The trees lean close, branches twisted like black fingers. Fog coils around my ankles, cooler here. Still. Like it’s waiting. The house appears slowly: two stories of weathered gray wood, peeling paint, a roof that leans to one side. Narrow windows, empty of light. A porch that creaks before I even touch it.

was all he said, before slamming it hard enough to make the walls shudder. For some reason, I found myself wondering why his dad chose to live in a place like this while he stayed up in some penthouse suite. I mean, the Graye family could buy the entire Upper East Side and still have change for a yacht named after their trust fund. Not that the place didn’t have a vibe. It did. It doesn’t look cheap or abandoned. It actually feels like home. Typical Graye Family energy, if you ask me. Dark wood and dusty corners. It was chaotic, a little haunted, probably hiding a secret or two in the floorboards… and weirdly, it makes sense. Chaos feels like the norm when it comes to the Grayes.

Mr. Gray looked at the CCTV footage on the screen in his library as he smiled and hope that the spark between these two would turn into a furnace. He knew this would happened but he pretended to keep his mind on other resourceful things leaving his closet and waking up to the his bedroom as he gently shoved the bright smile off his face. His smiles was so noticeable and unapologetic that Mrs. Gray looked at him with disdain and asked thoughtfully. What’s the good news? What do you seem so happy and bright?

Shutters were torn and hanging from windows. Moss grew up on the side of the house. The chimney was broken in some places. Eliseo gazed at the place in awe. He did not know his town had the resident old house. In his defense, he’d never come out this far with grandfather or father. He lived a more sheltered life. “I don’t think I’ve seen this place before,” Grayson chimed in. He stepped in front of them, cutting off their path to the car across the street. “Who's up for a little ghost hunting?”

"But that won't stop her trying to drain me dry every chance she gets in the meantime." King chuckles, shaking his head. "Good luck with that." Gray throws a mock salute and turns towards the door leading back into the house, and we follow close behind. "No," Phillips calls out weakly. "You monsters can't just leave me here." Gray chuckles darkly, not bothering to turn around. "Watch us." As we step into the house, Gray flicks the garage light off, plunging Phillips into darkness. His pitiful cries fade behind the sound of the door shutting, swallowed by the silence of the night.

That I'm somehow still an exception to his rules. It doesn't mean anything. We're just... working together now. That's all. I walk up to the front door. The house is even more impressive up close—all sharp angles and glass, modern but somehow warm. Very Gray. I ring the doorbell. The door opens almost immediately. And there he is. Gray, standing in the doorway wearing gray sweatpants—because of course he is—and a black tank top that shows off his arms. His hair is damp, like he just got out of the shower, and there are water droplets still clinging to his collarbone.

I turned to face Niro right away. He instantly shook his head while puckering his lips, and I immediately pouted. My shoulders immediately slumped because of disappointment. That's two thousand pesos, now that I think about it. We can already afford it with three of us. Additionally, it appears like there is furniture there. And the woman was pleading for me to get that house. I'm wondering why. I'm just inquisitive; I'm not a nosy person. It's preferable if you are aware of the cause. You see, we won't live there unless there are wicked spirits or things there that we can't see. It might possibly be the cause of my death.