Vengeance From A Saint Full Of Wounds の小説・ストーリー

he snarls at me, “I’m tapping in.” I’m too weak to stop him. Saint pulls me back and takes control without shifting. I watch helplessly as he realizes how bad the pain is. His fangs and claws instinctively elongate to defend himself from whatever's causing the pain. Milo, Reggie, and my dad step forward and do their best to hold me down as Saint writhes under their grip. “Almost done, Saint,” I hear Kas whisper into my ear as Saint howls in pain, “Hang in there, Sweetheart. I love you.”

“I knew you wouldn’t summon it, so I did it for you. It was an emergency.” “Never do that again, Saint. I don’t care how much of an emergency it is.” Even in my mind, my voice sounds hollow. I’m not even convinced I believe it myself. I would be dead right now if he hadn’t done it. “Can you heal me with the poison in my blood?” “Probably not fast enough for you to survive.” Saint sounds sullen now. “You’re losing a lot of blood. The Healers will help when we get home.”

"You're really open-minded. I can't compete with that!" "Enough!” Chris, who had been silent until now, couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed an ashtray and hurled it at Serena. Even though she dodged in time, a sharp piece of glass still grazed her, leaving a trickle of blood on her forehead. "We should never have listened to the old lady and brought you back! If it weren't for you, Marcus and our Katrina would be married by now. So what if we gave birth to you? To us, you're an ungrateful wretch. Even if you've climbed up to Damien, so what? Does he treat you as his wife? He's still out there partying!"

I responded, keeping my voice as calm as I could. " That's where you all get it wrong. She has everything to do with this. She is Santino's daughter and that makes her part. All these years I believe there was just one last way to rid my trauma permanently... To be done with the vengeance I so longed for. As long as I had that desire for revenge crawling in my skin, there was never a way the trauma would go away. But what if I'm just done with the trauma... Execute my vengeance and peace will finally come to my heart " "Vengeance brings no peace, Sonia," I told her because I've been through it before

They knew that sound. Salaza's eyes flicked toward the door. "You're fired," Pavan snapped, jabbing a finger at the exit. The maid fled, tears streaking her face — tears of fear, and of relief that she hadn't ended up in the dungeon like the others who'd broken his rules. She slipped back into line beside the others, head down. "Thank goodness," she whispered, wiping her eyes. Inside, Pavan sat in silence. He reached for the glass of wine beside the framed portrait of the late Queen Elaza and stared at it for a long moment. The anger drained out of his face, leaving only grief behind.

All I could see was Silas. He hadn't moved. He was still watching me, and although his expression was almost unreadable, I knew those eyes. I'd seen them before while I cried, while I begged, while I prayed someone would come. No one came. My fingers began to shake. No. It couldn't be Silas. He was supposed to be dead. I'd stabbed him. The memory came rushing back. The establishment had been on fire. I could still remember the heat, the smoke filling the halls and the screams echoing through the building.

Vincent shouted, his voice dripping with venom. He stepped back just enough to prepare another attack, his face marked by determination. "And unlike you, who murdered your own brother behind his back, I will end you right before your eyes, so that the last face you see is mine, as you sink into the darkness of your own disgrace!" Vincent continued trading blows with his uncle when, in a dirty move, the man stabbed him in the ribs. The blade pierced the flesh, and a groan of pain escaped Vincent’s lips. Even so, with fury burning in his eyes, he didn’t retreat. A flurry of precise and merciless attacks made his uncle stagger, his arrogance giving way to desolation. Within seconds, the man fel

What if the pain never went away? A cold shiver ran through her as she thought about the possibility of waking up again. She didn’t want to. A single tear fell from her eyes, disappearing into her blood-stained hair. Then her eyes were beginning to close. She desperately embraced the darkness, hoping it was the end of her life. But if she ever opened her eyes again, she would make them pay for everything they had done to her, especially Andreas King. It was the last thought in her mind before everything went blank.

the one that was already filled with my insatiable desire for vengeance? I felt my heart burning with more hate for the beast standing in front of me—if that was even possible because I knew I had reached the maximum level of hate a human can have for another. "Thank you," the words burned my throat. Thank you? for what exactly? killing my father? making me miserable? destroying my carefully planned life and ambition? The irony was unbearable.

it bounced inside his mind, again and again, getting louder and louder, he couldn't believe it the man that saved him was fucking his brother and was even cooking for him and his lover just shot him, he felt the need to say something anything and he knew he was shouting but he didn't know what he was saying but he just knew he was talking until he wasn't. He was instead looking at the man who had his men beat him up in an alleyway look at his brother, his savior with lust-filled eyes, and suddenly he was up and running at the man who had stolen his person away from him, he felt the need to hurt, he possibly scratches out those heat filled eyes, but then suddenly he was flying through the air