Truth After Dark Chicago Romane & Geschichten

"Turn? What are you saying?" "Ah, so that boyfriend you are with tonight is keeping you in the dark. Figures, since you are not marked. He must not be serious about you. Born wolf shifters may not continue forever, but science will ensure that they do." A small box in his hand revealed a syringe, filled with a glowing, blue liquid. "Now, let us not make this difficult," he said, voice soft but his eyes were reflective, the eyes of a wolf. They lunged at the same time; her towards the box and he towards her. She screamed when he grazed her arm, just out of reach. Using an old desk as a barrier, she managed to get behind it and hold an old candleholder out in front of her.

) "C'è un seminterrato. Il capo l'ha costruito. È lì che fa tutto il traffico e la tortura." (There's a basement; the boss built it. That's where he does all the trafficking and torture.) Adam pulled the trigger, letting the man's body fall to the ground. My eyes widened in shock as he walked past me, seeming unbothered by the blood on his face. "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE?" Adam's booming voice made me jump. I ran after him and grabbed the radio I had in my pocket. "Bravo to all units. The dove is in a club on the Chicago Riverwalk near Michigan Avenue. Head there immediately and wait for further orders."

What is better than sleep to remove all the bad thoughts? I blow out all the candles except one and then lay on my bed to sleep. Complete darkness scares me. I hate being in the dark, that's why I always leave one candle. I hope deep sleep soon engulfs me so that I am away from this world at least for some time. I can be free from this life. I wish to dream about the happy life I once had. ERIC’S POV

Juliet tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes on her as she moved about the kitchen to grab a packet of hot chocolate powder to add to her coffee. They ate in silence, and Juliet felt tense in the quiet. She glanced at him as he took a large gulp of his coffee. "How can you drink that?" She was unable to hide her disgust at the black liquid and relaxed when he let out a laugh as he pointed at the homemade mocha in front of her. “Black coffee is good. Dark roast is best, but your weak medium will do.” He said as he nudged her side with his elbow. “How can you drink that? You made it a cup of pure sugar.”

It was a truth whispered in hushed tones, for it carried both privilege and sacrifice. In the realm of the supernatural, the concept of a destined mate was deeply ingrained, an age-old belief that transcended time and species. Each supernatural being, whether it was a demon, vampire, werewolf, or other mystical creature, was believed to possess a singular, fated counterpart – the other half of their soul. This union was considered the most profound and sacred connection in their existence.

“One day. Complete experience. Honest feeling. True understanding. Then you choose. And we accept whatever you choose. Even if you choose erasure. Even if you choose nothing. Even if you end everything. We accept. Because we trust that truth is powerful enough. That experience is convincing enough. That understanding is sufficient. We trust that if you feel existence honestly, you will choose existence. If you experience love truly, you will understand that love is valuable. That if you feel a connection completely, you will realise something is better than nothing.” “You trust too much. You hope too much. You believe too much.” The First Dark began to split. Not creating a fragment. Becomin

Then arms caught me, pulling me firmly into a solid chest. “Ms Channing? Are you okay?” I looked up through blurry tears. Nate. Relief hit me hard, but the tears wouldn’t stop falling. I tried to speak but could barely form words but my voice trembled too violently. He draped his coat over my shoulders and quickly led me to the car. At the door, I stopped and grabbed his arm. “Please… take me to Jensen.” Nate nodded without hesitation. “Yes, ma’am.” Half an hour later, we pulled up to the venue. The place was almost deserted. Reporters had been cleared out. Most of the lights were off, leaving everything in cold shadows. The festive atmosphere from earlier had completely vanished.

My rival. Her hand in his. His hoodie half-off as they slipped into a service elevator. Proof. I tilted my head. “Did you follow them to the room?” “Yes, ma’am. They entered together. He didn’t leave until morning.” My laugh was sharp, cruel. “So the captain of the Chicago Phantoms spends the night with his best friend’s mother, and you’re telling me I have every moment of it on film?” He hesitated. “Enough moments, yes. The implication is....”

Instead, she was about to discover that everything she thought she knew about herself was a lie. And somewhere in Chicago, Detective Nora Roberts was getting closer to the truth that would either set Luna free or destroy everything she'd found with Grayson Vaughn.

Chicago wasn't sure if he were inside someone's realm, awake in the real world, or if he was just dreaming the image in front of him. A single man ahead of him balanced well with the shadows. The black silhouette removed his cap, he said. "Chicago, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dark, and I'm the spirit living inside your uncle's vessel." Chicago couldn't reply before falling as if the ground beneath him caved in, descending into a darkness of shadows that reached out towards him with black arms.