Twisted Stories Novels & Stories

Frowning, I tugged harder. Still jammed. "What the devil." I tugged with both hands. There was a deafening click that echoed through the room. The entire bookcase shook. My heart leaped up into my throat as the shelf creaked open, revealing a dark sliver of a secret space behind it. A secret room. My skin crawled as I stepped closer, the air colder now, denser. There were no lights inside. Only darkness and the stench of stale secrets. I was at the door, gaping into the darkness.

The neon sign flickered — Java Haven — casting an unsteady glow over the worn-out chairs. Sliding into a booth by the window, I pressed my palms against my face and exhaled. “What the hell just happened?” I muttered under my breath. I left him. Mid-dance. Mid-sentence. I should’ve felt powerful. Like the heroine of my own story — bold, untouchable. But instead, my mind was a mess of dark eyes and rough hands, of lips too close to my ear and a voice too smooth to be safe. I pulled out my phone and texted the only person who could untangle this madness.

And most importantly, what did they want with us? "I hope you can swim," the one at my back whose dark mask had red stitching on one cheek said. "Are we going for a swim?" My blonde friend asked. The other one chuckled, "Something like that." With a grimace, red stitching bent and pushed open a hole in the ground covered by a metal lid. The smell that wafted up was rancid. I covered my nose and my eyes watered. "What's in there?" Trish asked in a small, unsure voice.

With trembling hands, she tried it. Another soft click echoed through the tunnel. The chains slithered to the ground. Claire lifted the lid carefully. Inside were stacks of old papers, dusty envelopes sealed with the Arrington family crest— and, at the very bottom, a leather-bound journal. Claire’s fingers closed around it reverently. This was it. Answers. Maybe even leverage. She tucked the journal under her arm and turned back toward the stairs. But as she reached for the door at the top— It wouldn’t budge.

​Adrian ignored them all until a reporter screamed: "What do you have to say about your autistic son?" ​Adrian froze for a split second. He didn't let his face change, but the words echoed in his head. Inside the station, he looked up at a television. The news was already broadcasting the story: the fall of a titan, a double murder, and the secret son he had hidden from the world for years.

The flames of passion consumed them entirely. Joshua gripped her legs and drew her closer to him, his masculinity infiltrating her femininity even further. Danica's body shook with each thrust from Joshua. She couldn't stop crying since the pleasure was so intense for her. His every thrust was harsh, but she enjoyed it. Every thrust convinced her she was the only one and no one else mattered. He will never grow tired of loving her, no matter how many years pass.

Love stories, moments of resilience, and unforeseen twists became not just narratives but cosmic energies that shaped the very fabric of reality within and beyond the mansion's walls. In the twist of this astral exploration, they encountered celestial gateways within the cosmic ledger, leading them to ethereal realms where the threads of destiny were woven into intricate patterns. Symbols on the pages, now alive with transcendent glow, guided them through astral landscapes where the transformative power of love, resilience, and unforeseen twists reverberated in a timeless dance.

I wasn't offended though. "My name is Jeffery. George is my twin brother. We are Unidentical twins. Nice to meet you. You have a nice jawline." Ohh this is Christabel's Guy. Now I know why she has been quiet. "Nice to meet you both. Christabel has told me so much about you." If looks could kill, I'm pretty sure I'd have been dead by now. Christabel was glaring at me. It was so funny. I thought she didn't care about being embarrassed. Aunty confidence. Lol.

Ledger’s hand lazily stroked down my back, fingers tracing my spine. Even after two intense rounds, I could feel him starting to harden again against my thigh. Ovulation had made me insatiable. “Babe…” I whispered, kissing his chest. “I’m still not ready for another baby. The twins are only five. I love being a mom but… I want more time with just us.” He tilted my chin up, eyes soft but filled with heat. “I know, baby. I’ll be careful.” His fingers slipped between my legs again, gently rubbing my sensitive clitoris.

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.