Twilight Demetri Novels & Stories

I cried. Dameta approached the sleeping Demetrius before she lowered her head to kiss him on his forehead. "Happy 16th birthday, my dear son. I hope you shall find it to your heart that you forgive me..." she whispered. "No! Dominixe!" I groaned to attempt to move, but I couldn't. Dameta waved her hand at me. "Farewell, honeydew... Perhaps, in the next life, I could be with you..." "DOMINIXE!" I called her name when she was gradually disappearing. "NO!"

He's around 16. Dmitri: A Russian vampire and a leader of a resistance outpost that was one of the firsts to fall to the Nero family. He has silvery, snowlike hair with ice baby blue eyes and has water powers, being able to manipulate its form (permanently or temporary) and its shape and temperature and its movements. He is mated to Jason Nero and has had a lifetime dream of having a dragon. His sister is Eva.

After five sloppy kisses on the dancefloor in some cheap club of which two of them ended up in hookups, my experience was incredibly limited as you can see. Dimitri grabbed my chin and cooed in a belittling way, “Oh come on, my pet. You were doing so well, answering all my questions. Humor me, my pet. Take a guess,” I looked into his eyes, their bright magenta color mesmerizing me and then it hit me. Somehow my mind went straight to it, even if I wasn’t a Twilight fan. The scene in the throne room confirmed it. Dimitri could see on the look of my face that I cracked it. He showed me a flashy grin, two sharp teeth stood out. “Vampire,” I whispered.

Claire didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her arms around him just as fiercely. She could feel his heart pounding under her cheek. Wild. Unsteady. Human. She pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, feeling the way his muscles tensed—and then slowly, slowly, relaxed. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need words. Not anymore. The storm was coming. And all they could do now was hold on to each other and hope they survived it. --- But somewhere, deep in the shadows of the sprawling house, a forgotten phone buzzed quietly.

“Enough.” We both turned to him. He stepped closer, his presence pulling at me like gravity. “Aria is working for Andrea Moretti,” he said evenly. “She’s Andrea’s new stylist.” The name hit me like a splash of cold water. “Andrea Moretti?” As if summoned, Andrea appeared. She was breathtaking, all sharp cheekbones and effortless elegance, her designer gown catching the light as she moved. She slipped her arm through Aleksander’s with the ease of someone who belonged there, her gaze sweeping over me with polite, icy disinterest.

Demitry steps even closer, his jaw clenching so hard, veins starts to pop on his temple, he leans down to match my height and in a low growl, he says. "Edric Blackthorne…" —*

Even without all those, she is a charming woman with curves, long legs, full breasts are the things that make men go wild for her. I and Sam just kissed one time after Olivia’s death, the night I found out about my late girlfriend’s betrayal. I wanted to do something at that time; I was on the balcony making myself relax. Sam came, we talked, and I ended up having her mouth on me. We both agreed that was a mistake, a bad idea, and promised to stay friends for nothing more than that. The way she behaved at my wedding and now this, well, this is awkward. Even and Dean is giving me a look that says it all. The perplexity on their faces and the raised brow of Dean are also the same as what my mi

He stopped, then he stared into space and said, “Adrik, I know you cannot stand me right now. But I need you to come out so I can change.” I frowned. Was my boss a madman? Was this one of those rich people's kinks? Was I going to die after spending less than a day in Russia? Even as I was staring at Dimitri, I could not explain it, but one second Dimitri was there, and the next, it was the wolf in the picture. I screamed and went towards the door. As I was about to open it, Dimitri appeared and said, “Wait, don’t. It’s me Willow. I promise.”