Titanic Novels & Stories

Tasha explained, her already big, brown eyes, now the size of dinner plates. Myself and my three ranked members just stood there, staring at Tasha and Channing, our heads tilted, brows furrowed and mouths slightly open, like we’re dogs staring at a ceiling fan. After a moment, I shake my head, bringing us all back from our states of confusion.

Spending one more time in that place would have made Titan take over and rip them into pieces. Titan howls in my head at the betrayal of it all. He does not use words. It is a pure, keening sound of agony, the sound of a wolf who has hurt its mate. He had mourned the absence of our mate for weeks, had mourned our broken bond, but nothing had broken him more than knowing that his instinct had always been right. He had never liked Roxy, not once. Titan had played a crucial role in ensuring that Roxy and I never got intimate during my marriage to Rhea. I admit there were times I almost crossed those lines, but Titan would howl, growl, and gnash so fiercely that I would get so frustrated and ret

The Acheron was screaming in its death throes. The sound of the titanium hull failing under the immense pressure of the deep Pacific was a horrific, sustained roar, like the agonizing tearing of a massive sheet of metal right next to their ears. The engineering bay was rapidly transforming into a chaotic, freezing maelstrom. Black ocean water, thick with pulverized debris and the toxic slick of ruptured hydraulic lines, geysered through the blown-out bulkheads, rapidly filling the lower deck where Dante was trapped.

Only mine. And that thought? That one settles deep. Cause Mel is not like other girls. If she gets pregnant, it won’t be a trick … it will be planned. Time to change the channel. And I land on … Titanic — the gayest movie ever. “What a load of bull,” I say when the iconic scene floods the screen. Wind, arms outstretched, tragic violins doing emotional gymnastics. “Can you imagine ever doing something as fanny as that?” I ask the cat sprawled on my chest like he pays rent.

“You know,” Titan murmurs, his voice unusually quiet, “I waited so long for my mate that I almost convinced myself I never had one.” Maxine blinks. “What? How could that be? From everything you’ve told me—” “I know.” His gaze drifts away from hers. “But ever since I was a child… There were rumours.” A knot formed in Maxine’s stomach. “What kind of rumours?” For several seconds, Titan remains silent. His eyes lowered to the polished wooden desk between them. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. “A prophecy.”

Something that didn't belong in a "Real World." A **Titan** stepped out of the shadows. It was thirty feet tall, its body made of rusted iron and pulsing violet tubes. It had the face of a man, but the eyes were giant searchlights. On its chest, a large silver logo was etched into the metal: **AETHEL-GROUP: ASSET RECOVERY**. "Subject 01 and Donor 04," the Titan’s voice boomed, sounding like a thousand speakers blowing out at once. "You have exceeded your 'Independence' quota. Please remain still while your 'Conflict Data' is harvested."

The big diamond chandeliers, extravagant ceilings with crown mouldings and golden intricate designs, the floors all pure black marble and I saw sharks in a massive tank. He led me to an elevator and we both got in together. I couldn't say anything as the elevator moved several floors, each floor better than the previous. And it let me know that the more money you had, the higher the floor. Until we reached the final floor, I assume, and the elevator doors opened. Before me, red rose petals had been thrown on the floor along with a trail of candles that led all the way to a table that Octavious sat at. It was the only table on the floor.