Twisted Series Fan Art Novels & Stories

I say pushing him off "No need to be so mean, we just want to talk to you " says the guys friend, walking towards me. I start backing up, trying to get away from them when someone from behind me wraps an arm around my waist "where do you ththink yourrrr gooingg" the culprit slurrs into my ear causing me to cringe from his foul breath. "Get off of me!" I say trying to wriggle my way out of his disgusting grasp. "Don't worry baby the three of us are going to take care of you real good" says ' ' Johnny Bravo's ' ' friend as he continues to approach me.

smoothie," the dark-skinned said. Elena came back with what they ordered. Elena kept admiring and in love with their accents. "I guess the dark-skinned is London-based. Elena was at the corner of the counter when she overheard them talk about the art on the wall and how beautiful it looked. After some minutes, Elena came back to clear their table. "I'm sorry but this art on the wall is beautiful, do you know who photograph this?" The white girl asked. "I did" Elena replied as she gave in a broad smile. They were both impressed to know Elena was good at photography. "But what are you doing here if you're so good at photography?" The dark girl asked curiously. Elena was quiet. "Okay there's a

He looked at me and winked. “Why would you do that? Dig about him. Getting him out of my life. I mean, why would you?” “What do you think? Why would a man go to that extent, Lyra?” He asked me. I was confused with everything revealed and having a hard time assimilating everything. Things shouldn’t be this complicated between us. I and Nathan were just strangers, then why was the past so full of twisted. It tangled us with one another so badly that I was finding it hard to set myself free from him.

Eleanor had already found it difficult to focus on anything in the art gallery as her phone seemed to burn in her hands with the unsettling messages she was receiving, her thoughts were focused on the messages when a bass-tone voice broke through her agony. "Lucas Sinclair, it's so lovely you could join me for the opening of the new gallery," the voice said.

Awoooooooooo! I'm a fairy and he is a werewolf, loving each other is a big mistake. What we have is a twisted fate.

Dante mocked. “I'm barely dead, and you're already having sex. Do you not feel remorseful for what you've done?” Freya questioned. Ares began to take steady steps backwards as Dante advanced towards him. “Can people stay dead!” he growled. “Maybe you should have done a better job.” Freya sneered and broke into a sprint towards Ariel. With the reflection of the moon, Ariel's eyes caught the identifying marks that were on Dante and Freya's foreheads. It was a crescent with a star on top. The ritual had somehow been completed even though they had missed the last full moon.

I climbed up. The ladder passed by a window with the curtains drawn. Just as I reached it, the curtains were yanked open. I didn't dare look down as I just rushed to the door that was linked to the rooftop. I locked it, and I breathed a sigh of relief. But suddenly, I could hear a bizarre laughter coming from behind me. I spun around, and it was the man… The one who looked just like my Dad in my memories. But there was no kindness left in his eyes, only hatred and the twisted excitement of someone about to kill.

Seeing how much I liked him, Dad reached out to the Twilight pack to discuss an arranged marriage. But after I was abducted and my face temporarily disfigured in that fire, Easton had heartlessly broken off the engagement. It wasn't until I got engaged to Andre that Dad—hoping they'd value and cherish me—offered the Twilight pack a stream of trade deals. That was how the once insignificant Twilight pack rose to power so quickly. I knew the Twilight pack would neither give up those benefits easily, nor would they let me go without a fight. But I also wanted to make them regret everything they had done to hurt me.

That night they called for “Web of Thorns.” The sanctuary torches burned low and menacing. The air was thick, humid, and heavy with coconut oil, jasmine, sea salt, warm leaking milk, and the sharp, dangerous edge of two bloodlines circling for dominance. Over one hundred bodies filled the space. The encrypted global stream surged past 61 million viewers.

She sucked in a sharp breath. “I can almost hear your heart racing” he said, almost conversationally. His thumb drew a lazy circle. “Scared?” A pause. “Or something else?” “Fuck you,” she hissed, but the words came out shakingly at the sharp pinch he gave her nipples. He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her bones “That’s the plan.” His hand drifted lower. Elara bucked, hips jerking uselessly against the restraints. “Don’t—” His fingers paused at the edge of her lace underwear, tracing the delicate edge without dipping beneath.