The Silver Devil Book Novels & Stories

He drops right beside her on the couch, his body brushing hers. Silver tried to move away, but his large palm descended on her thigh, and he gripped it hard to keep her in place. Silver held her breath. “I don't know how you did it, but you had me fooled.” He hissed, his icy blue eyes now on fire. He continued. “Once there was a time that I believed you were the most righteous woman I had ever met. If only I knew you were just camouflaging that righteous act to hide the whore you really are." He spat.

she suggested. "Sure," I said, shrugging. I pulled on something casual, not overthinking it, and we headed for the door. But just as we were about to leave, that Devil spoke. "You can't leave." "Why not?" Silver barked at him. "Because I said so." he said with flared nose and red eyes. He had been drinking, I could smell the scent left on him and with that he left. "Guess we will just order and stay in." "Sure."

Thank you for pushing through and finishing book 1. Please let me know what you think! Book 2, Family Secrets is where I will publish any and all sequels. I am in the process of changing the title name to just The Silver Dragon Series. I plan for there to be a total of 6 books. Books 1, which you just read, through 3 will be Davina and Derek's journey to defeat those after her so she can live in peace. Book 4 will follow her daughter Maliyah, Book 5 will follow her twins and book 6 will follow her last child.

The sensation of something brushing—stroking—against her body wouldn’t stop. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Lucas’s voice was silk, but the steel underneath cut deep. Arabella’s throat tightened. Frustration swelled, stinging her eyes. Her fingers clawed at the smooth leather, but it held firm, snug against her neck, not choking, but possessive. Every small movement made it clink, a cold reminder of who had fastened it there. Silver chains slithered down from the collar, brushing over her collarbone like whispers, then lower—teasing, uninvited.

DANTE'S POV People call me the Devil of New York. They're not wrong. I've killed men for less than a dirty look. I've gutted rats who thought they could steal from me. I've fucked women who begged for mercy and made them beg for more pain instead. My empire runs on blood, loyalty, and fear. That's the only language this rotten world understands. And tonight, I reminded everyone of it. Crawford thought he could play me. Thought he could borrow money from my syndicate, promise returns, and then ghost like I'm some dumb fuck banker. No. You don't spit in my face and walk away.

As the heavy doors swung open with a loud creak, the scene inside the throne room made her blood turn to ice. In the middle of the room knelt a man whose body was already covered with blood. His clothes were torn and soaked red, and he was shaking violently from pain and fear. Standing in front of the broken man was the devil himself - King Malakar. He was holding a whip embedded with thorns, drops of blood still clinging to the cruel metal spikes. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and his clothes were splattered with crimson.

Just as I was about to get in, a car drove in from the gate and pulled to a stop right in front of us. My eyes locked on the car and I felt my heart skip a beat. I knew that car and I knew who was going to be in it. It was the particular car I was in the day I came here. A black SUV. The passenger door flew open and my greatest nightmare walked out. Alejandro Delgado. The devil who could apologize one minute and then turned around seconds later to act like he never did. He walked over to us, a frown formed sternly on his face.

The black cells. The damp stone corridors were silent, lit only by flickering torches. Elena held her breath, her velvet dress scraping quietly against the stone walls. She passed several empty iron cages until she reached the very end of the corridor, where the heaviest silver-infused bars locked away the pack’s most dangerous threats. There, sitting on the cold, wet stone floor in heavy silver chains, was Devon.

No women. “A devil with no weakness,” she murmured, the words barely louder than the crunch of the apple. Then a memory surfaced: the way he had devoured her the entire night, slow and relentless, as if her body were the only sin worth savoring. Her fingers tightened subconsciously around the book on devils she had just finished reading. Its pages had spoken of their insatiable hunger for untouched souls, pure, unchanging, untouchable. The moment a soul was altered in any way, it slipped forever from their grasp.

Penelope let out a huge breath, and gazed at her room for one last time before walking out with Eloise. Both Penny and Eloise walked into the sitting room, her eyes fell on the Silver-haired man who was standing and backing her. If only, she had not met him the other evening. As if he could feel her presence, he turned around to face her. His somehow silver eyes were calm and held an expression that no one could understand. She felt like prey and that was a feeling that was driving her crazy.