Velvet Crowe Novels & Stories

I don't know for sure, but my visibility that is getting clearer even though it's just dimly convinced me that this is another ability of being a wolvire. I stood up, surveyed the situation around me. I was in a small, humid empty cave. The darkness at the mouth of the cave convinced me that it must be night. Before I thought I was alone here, but then I heard a faint voice not far from this cave. I crept up to the mouth of the cave and peeked, wide. A few meters beside the cave, I saw a group of people dressed all in red. They all appeared to be wearing something like black batik scarves and necklaces of jasmine wreaths that were draped around their necks.

She said. "And how did she get to know?." "I have no idea my king." "She wouldn't eat or drink anything for a few days now." "She's in love with another wolf, his name is Brandon." "A descent of the"Black dove pack." "His family are hunters." "Gwen is afraid you'll subdue him with your power and mark her." She's delusional. I thought to myself. "They're madly in love with each other." She cried.

She knew about this dungeon since Ayleen loved narrating stories about her brother and his Trueblood status. There is only one occupant in the cell, Caleb the white wolf. They were right about his aura. It clearly isn’t that of a strong wolf let alone that of a Trueblood. “Caleb?” She softly calls out his name when she reaches his cell. God…he is just a child. He looks malnourished. He jolts awake from his sleep and pushes himself into the wall. “Y-yeah?” He looks at her. “Hey… I am Katya and I just want to ask a few questions, if that’s okay with you.”

Her whole body is very hot while she also could not stop releasing a series of growls and gasps that caused her throat to dry completely. Consecutively, she does swallow afterward. But after that, she once again felt Jason's lips gave a very delicious sucking on her femininity so she moaned again. Just a few moments and suppressed screams are about to escape her mouth. But she knew she had to hold back. So she decided to reach for her extra pillow and then cover her face with it and there she let out the loud and sharp screams that she had been enduring to release. "Oh god! Hmmm ... Shit! Jason, it's so good!" he said removing the pillow from her face then with trembling hands grab the young

"Alright." A few days later, Eugene scraped together a loan, and the two of them quickly threw together a small, private wedding. Valerie was terrified of her parents finding out, so they only invited Eugene's side of the family, keeping the entire affair a secret from her own. By that afternoon, I received the wedding video in my inbox, courtesy of the event company they had hired. I genuinely spared no expense on Valerie's care, providing her with a medical team that monitored her daily. I made sure she had the best nutrition and the most expensive prenatal supplements.

My heart raced as they breached the container. But something felt wrong. The live police bodycam feed showed the team inside an empty space—except for a laptop on a table, screen glowing. Crowe was gone again. Then the laptop screen changed. A live stream began broadcasting across multiple platforms. Elias Crowe appeared, looking directly into the camera. He was in an unknown location, calm and smiling like a man who had already won. “If you’re watching this, it means they’ve finally come for me,” he said smoothly. “But before they silence me, I want the world to know the truth about Damien Cross and his whore, Kira Holt.”

“If the wolf is this strong—” “He is not the problem,” Crowe interrupted softly. “He is the symptom.” He wiped his hand clean on the altar cloth. The crimson smear bloomed bright against white linen, a mockery of holy things. “The problem,” he said, “is the woman he follows.” “The vampire?” Crowe looked toward the stained glass window that no longer had glass—only rain and morning fog peering in. “The ghost of New York,” he said. “Silver Belmot.” The name came out almost reverent.

I looked down at her, my face inches from hers, letting her feel every bit of the monster she had tried to flee. ​"Listen to me, Velvet," I hissed, the nickname sounding like a threat. "I have spent my life making sure no one touches what is mine. And you are the most precious thing I own. Do you have any idea what I had to do in that alleyway while you were playing 'escape artist'?" ​She tried to twist her wrists, a small, futile whimper escaping her lips. "Xavier, stop—"

Catherine lay on the somewhat hard bed, listening to the snoring coming from the next bed, unable to fall asleep no matter what. She fished out that business card from her pocket, her fingertips trembling slightly. Borrowing the faint streetlight coming through the window, she gently touched the raised gold lettering on it with her fingers, as if caressing that man's name. William Sterling. She recited it silently in her heart, only feeling the two words roll over the tip of her tongue, carrying a trace of bitter sweetness. Then, she took a deep breath, tucked the business card into that thick SAT vocabulary book, closed the book, and pressed it under her pillow.

She eyes it, almost as if she’s studying it, and I gasp when she leans forward, her tongue swiping over the tip. Christ. "Fuck. Do that again." I command, pleasure taking over my senses, and Veronica sends me a smirk before she gives me what I want. She traces her finger over the crown, licking my Precum, and a low growl escapes my throat as my entire body vibrates from the feel of her mouth. "I’ll take you in now." I hear her mutter, and I’m too lost in the bliss she’s providing for her words to register. "Shit." I cuss when she closes her mouth over my cock, my length disappearing down her throat, and my breathing becomes harbored as I watch her suck my cock. Her mouth feels good. Her touc