This Vicious Grace Novels & Stories

"Some nights are made for torture, or reflection, or the savoring of loneliness"- Poppy Z. Brite. Rose's POV: My body shook as silent cries of agony escaped me. Mr. Victor just stood there, frozen, thunderstruck, angry. His eyes were glued to Madeline's pale, lifeless face. His eyes were red, which made his turquoise irises stand out more, making him look hauntingly devastated. He let out a roar and shoved me away from her. My back hit the cold floor with a loud thud as a searing pain shot through from my spine.

I say, but she ignores me as she paces around the living room. “Are you telling me you are like Parisi?” Grace asks and I stand walking to her. I place my hands on her neck and her eyes meet mine as I caress her skin lightly with my thumb as I shake my head. “I am nothing like that fucker, I don’t traffic women, I don’t rape women, I don’t force them to do things they don’t want, and I sure as hell don’t hurt innocent women,” I add and Grace’s eyes widen again as her hands fly to touch mine. Her hands gripping mine but she doesn’t push away.

After all, the child was not capable of such cruelty. Children didn't possess the ruthless ambition that could drive them to commit such vicious acts. And moreover, Caden was Grace's flesh and blood. Sylvia believed that a mother would never allow her child's hands to be stained with such blood. So, if Grace had truly sought to harm Connor, she would have kept the deed hidden from Caden. Using her maternal instincts to speculate, Sylvia concluded that Caden was truly pitiable, his mind no doubt shattered by the horror he had witnessed. -

And Alaric clearly agreed as he subconsciously gripped tighter onto my hand, staring at her with furrowed brows. "My name is Vivian Black. I'm one of the Original Witches, the Mirror Witch." She suddenly spoke, her voice a raspy whisper where I could almost see the air. "And I give this power to thee; Ines Silvia Agua. May she live a life of peace amongst Humans with no struggle of fitting in, may she be loved, understood and graced with the light of the Thousand Stars in which Selene watches over her." Clapping her hands, a resounding echo chimed in my head, putting her gift in place.

Benjamin — “Son of the right hand. Favor, protection, and blessing.” Then he turned to the girls, his voice softening even more. Grace — “Because grace saved us when anger could have destroyed everything.” Hope — “Self-explanatory. Hope survived when we almost didn’t.” Elena — “Shining light. Proof that pain doesn’t cancel brightness.” Faith — “Belief beyond evidence. We held on even when nothing made sense.” He looked at me then, his hand resting over mine. “Any of these names,” Croft said, his voice steady, “will remind our child that their life was born from chaos, but shaped by love, healing, and a future we chose together.”

Only by clutching these objects tightly could he find a semblance of peace in his sleep. But the silence of the master bedroom was deafening. He buried his face in her pillow, inhaling the faint, fading scent of her perfume. It was like trying to hold onto water in his cupped hands—the tighter he grasped, the faster it slipped away. For the first time in his life, the man who had always controlled everything felt utterly powerless. He was drowning in a sea of his own making, and Vivienne who could have saved him was gone forever. The darkness of the room seemed to press against his chest, suffocating him with the weight of his irreversible mistakes.

Elias murmured, his face dropping lower, his breath brushing against her lips. "Arthur Vance is a coward who destroys everything he touches to save his own skin. You, on the other hand... you are brilliant. You have a mind that can see the heartbeat inside a billion fragmented rows of digital chaos. I didn't lock you in this room to punish you, Grace. I locked you in this room because you proved last night that you are still a liability to yourself."

Horror creeps into my mind, my heart, and my face. My smudged lipstick, completely gone. My lips red and almost swollen. His teeth marks on my lower lip. He almost drew blood. Fuck. What have I done? DANTE If someone told me I'd be in heaven today, I would have said it was a lie. Her lips are like honey and milk. She's everything I've ever wanted but never knew I needed. And fuck, her body, her skin, is fire and water and everything in between. Burning me, yet keeping me cool at the same time.

Her vision blurred as Adan continued his slow torturous ministration on her body. He glanced up and stared at her erotic face. Mesmerised. A satisfied groan rumbling deep in his chest. He pressed his thumb over her bundle of nerves and she jerked, letting out a sharp cry. There were sparks flying everywhere. His lips kissed, sucked her unblemished neck with the sole purpose to leave his marks. She gasps feeling delirious as she swivels her hips pressing more against his finger. "See, I told you." He husked. "You want me." He chuckled and slowly inserted his one finger and then another. Her core was sleek, he could easily move in and out feeling her soft walls clamped his fingers.

A tear slips down her cheek "And neither does the past." Father Michael places his hand over hers. "You are Marrine." She closes her eyes. "You are not a monster." He pauses "You are not a mistake." Another tear falls. "And you are not alone." For a long moment Marrine stands there, silent. Then she leans forward and rests her head on his shoulder. Father Michael holds her as the sound of the sea swells outside the church. Far below the surface, something ancient and powerful opens its eyes. Marrine suddenly straightens.