Under The Dome Show Novels & Stories

The city skyline loomed in the distance, glittering like a thousand lies dressed up as promises. Dominic pulled the car into the underground parking garage beneath one of his private properties — a building I hadn’t even known he owned. It was sleek, discreet, the kind of place you used when you didn’t want anyone to know you were hiding something—or someone. We climbed out, moving fast. Dominic kept the duffel bag tight to his side, glancing over his shoulder like he expected the League to crash through the concrete walls at any second.

As I hung up the phone, I glanced again at the torn page in my hand. CAM… I just hope this had nothing to do with my child. DOMINIC’S POV The booth in the corner of the underground lounge was dim. It was far from the eyes and ears of anyone that mattered so I didn'tneed to worry about being seen. Smoke curled lazily in the air, weaving through the low light like a snake looking for it's prey. I sat alone, back to the wall, eyes on the door watching and waiting.

“What the hell?” “I’ll go from under,” one of the professors offers before diving into the water. As if it senses him, the dome hums—low, unnatural—and begins to pull away from us. I frown. This isn’t something we built in. Could it be tied to Arnold’s death? The thought digs in like a thorn. We move forward, but the dome keeps retreating until it’s pressed against the shore, sealing off any chance of swimming under. Whoever is behind this is either on the island or at Folkshore Harbor.

But the water didn't flood the streets. A mile out from the docks, the ocean hit an invisible, translucent wall of violet fire. The wave didn't break; it surged upward, clawing at the sky, trying to find a gap in my dome. I felt the weight of the entire Western Sea pressing against my mind. My skin began to bleed from the pores, the sheer kinetic friction turning the air around us into a shimmering haze of heat. "Nathaniel! Status!" I gasped, my vision blurring. "The dome is holding at eighty-nine percent integrity!" Nathaniel’s voice echoed through the resonance-crystal. "But Emma, the pressure is creating a vacuum beneath the surface! Something is moving through the under-currents!"

“We need you at the clearing. Now.” My heart thumps unevenly, curiosity and trepidation twisting together. I follow him, silent, the early summer air crisp and alive against my skin. The clearing is already set up for the small, emergency ceremony—a circle of standing pack members, Asher at its center, his expression unreadable but intense. My mother stands slightly off to the side, her eyes quiet but proud.

The shockwave ripped outward, instantly obliterating the wooden chairs, the iron chains, and the flickering fluorescent bulb, plunging the entire underground facility into a terrifying, dust-choked darkness. In that final split second before the ceiling collapsed, Dominic’s massive 6'4" frame slammed down over her petite five-foot body in the narrow drainage trench. He became a literal human shield, his broad, corded shoulders absorbing the violent impact of falling debris, shattered brick, and burning concrete dust.

“And get this—he canceled a one-on-one with one of his regulars last weekend. Voluntarily. Said it didn’t feel right.” Caleb blinked. “Dominic canceled? That man once showed up to a scene with a broken wrist.” “Exactly,” Jude said, smirking. “That girl’s got him by the soul.” I let out a slow breath and stared down at the carpet like it had answers. Rope shows? Submissives? People catching real feelings in a place like this? Was that actually a thing?

The live caption on the bottom of the screen read: SCOTT MAREN DEMANDS IMMEDIATE CANCELLATION OF TONIGHT'S GAME CLAIMS PROOF OF OMEGA CONSPIRACY INSIDE TITANS FRANCHISE Dominic stared at the screen behind me, his jaw tightening into a sharp, threatening shape. "He's at the ice rink," Dominic observed, his voice calm but full of danger. I held the gold locket tightly in my hand, the cold metal pressing into my skin. "Let him speak," I replied, getting up from the couch. "The bus is ready."

High above the central training coliseum, on the grand inspection balcony of Dome One, Dominic stood with his boots planted firmly against the polished basalt ledge. He had stripped off his formal imperial mantle, wearing a sleeveless dark velvet combat tunic reinforced with meteor-steel mesh. His broad, muscular chest and corded shoulders were exposed, showing off his bronzed skin and the dark meteor-steel runic tattoos that pulsed along his arms and neck with steady, low currents of liquid-black solar plasma. His short dark hair was windblown by the internal climate vents, framing a granite jawline set in an unyielding expression of apex authority. His grey eyes, glowing with deep, steady

Artemis stretched out her hand that held a small tube-like thing in her hand which Creed had seen several times with women. His eyes immediately landed on the beautiful woman right next to him and grabbed the lip balm from her hand to rub against his chapped lips. Right now, they both were standing on top of the tallest building in the center of the Disque Caravan, serving as the parking lot. Creed Beck his neck up and gazed at the huge semi-circular geodesic dome covering the entire structure. The structure was unexplainably gigantic. After a quick look, he assumed that the circular dome on the top of the caravan was there to cover the buildings inside; however, he realized that sea breeze