Totally Killer Romane & Geschichten

I don’t look over my shoulder and just keep looking at the dessert, knowing somehow he wouldn’t want me to see him like this. After a couple of harsh breaths, Killer continues with a cold voice, probably trying to detach himself from the memories as much as possible. “Ten fucking man for just one woman who couldn’t even defend herself. My mom was a small woman, same height as you. She made up for it with her character but that obviously wouldn’t work on them. They tortured her for hours, raped her and dismembered her body. In our own fucking house, leaving her body parts scattered around the house like a scavenger-hunt for my dad to find. I never left my room and they somehow never looked fo

None of them had gotten it right. The real thing standing in my doorway, catching the light from my hall lamp was something else entirely. It was not costume. It was not theater. It was a specific, intentional, centuries-old object, and it was being worn by a man who had chosen it the way a man chooses a signature. The Verdict Killer was standing in my living room. I want to be precise about what that meant. Because if you live outside this city, or if you don’t read the tabloids, or if you don’t listen to the podcasts — you might think he was just one more name on one more news cycle.

“Yeah, I mean.. who would want a rogue wolf anyway.’’ She chuckles bitterly. But that hits me the wrong way. “Don't refer to us like that. We already have what it takes to be a bona fide pack. But that darn Klein...’’ I trip off when his name slips off my lips, scared for a moment that she might recognise it. “Alpha Klein of the Capricornia continent is it?’’ She spells out completely, instantly sending another sharp chill down my chest. Wait… she knows who he is?

From behind his back, he pulled out a sharp utility knife he had prepared before coming home and decided to personally destroy Nova, the demon who had killed me. "You don't get to replace Tina after killing her. You're not worthy." Right after saying that, he lunged forward and ruthlessly slashed the knife across Nova's neck. "Crack!" The knife sliced through her throat, exposing a chaotic mess of multicolored wires. Electricity crackled loudly, and the sweet smile on her face froze. She tried to speak, but the sounds she could make were only distorted glitch noises. Moments later, her body collapsed heavily onto the floor, and the light in her eyes went dark. She never moved again.

she says as she turns the laptop to me. All I catch is shadowed images of a man's form. Nothing that gets his face up close in any of the shots. Sarissa scrolls down countless images of countless horror deadlines as she continues talking. “They say that he is dangerous,” she says, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world when she comes across posts and articles highlighting his horrors. “They say he is a vile, wicked killer. No-mercy man. Always ready to put a bullet in the head of anyone who dares to cross him or betray him.” She looks at me, eyes crinkling with excitement, derangement and pure anticipation. “Isn't that perfect?”

My mate, who once desired to kill his mate, is now pouring his eternal love for me…until death do us part. The End

The scar on his eye was angry red. Behind him stood Damian. Her murderer. Her fiancé. Seeing him made Arielle’s blood boil. The Void surged. Kill him, it whispered. Rip his throat out. Arielle clenched her fists. Not yet, she told the monster. Wait. "Lycian," Kaelen said smoothly. He didn't stand up. "You look well." "For a terrorist." Lycian sat opposite him. He didn't touch the tea. "Self-defense, Kaelen."

And a man in gloves holding a tattoo needle. Jacob spun. “What the hell is this?” Leo stepped in behind him, the door clicking shut. “Every man in my inner circle is marked. You’re married to me now. You don’t get to walk around with a clean canvas.” “You’re branding me?” Leo’s voice dropped. “I’m claiming you.” Jacob took a shaky step back. “That’s psychotic.” “No,” Leo said calmly. “It’s permanent.” The tattoo was small. Simple. A black line through the Greek letter Omega, right below his collarbone, just far enough to hide under a shirt, just close enough to remind him he belonged to a killer.

A world the law didn’t touch. A world soaked in blood. The root of my unending wealth. Heads bowed the moment I stepped out. “Boss.” “Boss.” Their voices echoed in submission. I didn’t respond. I only came here when it's serious business. Rugar stepped forward…my best shooter, my third after Leo, him and Leo are my shadow in this world. Here, I wasn’t Professor Black. I wasn’t Zed. I was Roman motherfucking Killer. The name that made grown men piss themselves.