When it comes to crowds or even a small group of people, Aurora Price, is shy, very reserved and doesn't talk much. She shrinks into her shell. The only two people she's comfortable around are her brother's Griffin and Max. When she's at home chilling with her brothers, she's sassy, bubbly and always singing and dancing. She has the voice of an angel, and the body of a goddess... but... she's broken in her soul. She's been abused and doesn't trust anyone but her brother's. They've bounced from foster home to foster home... but no one wanted to keep two gay boys and a shy, timid little girl. Until...... Oliver Stone... Tattooed from his neck to his hips, light grey eyes that look like smoke, 6ft 2 and nothing but muscle. Girls drool and immediately drop their panties at the sight of him and he knows it. He ruthless, bloodthirsty, powerful and a cold blooded killer. On the streets they call him "Ghost"... Rumors say it's because if you piss him off or mess with his crew, you'll never see him coming... you'll never predict when your death will happen... but you can trust that it will. He likes to play with his victims.. that is... until he crosses paths with shy little Aurora. She tamed the beast and she doesn't even know his name. .................................... "Hello there little one." He whispered as his arms wrapped tighter around me. Of all the times and places I fall, it has to be right now and in the arms of a god!? "What's your name beautiful?".... Did he just call me beautiful? I couldn't speak... I was too busy dealing with a panic attack to tell this sculpted god anything. Why was he asking anyways? No one takes an interest in me... Ever. "What's the matter angel? Do I frighten you that much?" He loosened his grip... I manage a small nod. He smiles and gently brushes his nose against mine.. my brother's call that Eskimo kissing. Whatever that means. "No need to be afraid of me sweetheart. I would never hurt an angel like you."

Rose is only his. He was the one who bought her up. He was the one who killed to keep her safe, fed her, clothed her. He only loves her. Because he only feels only around her. Trigger Warning: This story contains content that may be distressing or triggering for some readers. Themes include, but are not limited to: Sexual content, Violence, Abuse (physical, emotional, and/or sexual), Mental illness, Self-harm, Suicide, Death. Please proceed with caution and take care of your mental and emotional well-being. If you feel that these topics might be upsetting or triggering for you, consider skipping this story or seeking support from a trusted friend, family member, or mental health professional. Important Note: This story does not intend to glamorize, advertise, or portray these acts as acceptable. Instead, it aims to raise awareness about the harsh realities that some individuals face. The purpose is to foster understanding and empathy for those who have experienced such trauma.

"...many spirituals recognize that when dark one appears he is most beautiful, most wonderful and most engaging. The truth only comes out later..." Tara. University student with many friends, complicated relationship with her parents, and weird obsession with buying heels. Even though she seemingly had everything she could ever wish for, something was missing, something that would fill her life with adrenalin and fire. She wished for something new, something that will turn her whole world upside-down, something passionately wicked. Mateo. Man with a dashing and equally dangerous look. He was dark, mysterious, possessive, controlling, passionate - everything she has ever wanted in a lover. When she first saw him, standing by the entrance of the club, calmly smoking a cigarette as if there was no brawl happening before his eyes - she was fascinated. She thought he was the most beautiful, interesting, and tempting person she has ever seen. Yet, he was something else too, something she didn't know, something she was bound to regret ever finding out. "Be it heaven or hell. Be it life or death. She was his." There is this one thing that can be learned through history lessons: Not all kingdoms and monarchs are the epitome of goodness and honorableness therefore not every prince is the reincarnation of the most beautiful dream. In fact, in most cases, there is something deeply rotten in their beings. It is truly tragic that they are served to young girls on a crystal plate. ---------×--------- Just to make it clear, this is not a fantasy book Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0ghEcse5UA Cover made by: @niXieDust_

He began walking over to me. This is it. I'm dead. I saw his shoes come into my view as I was looking down, hair covering my face. "Look at me." He growled out. I started to cry, too afraid to look. He grasped my chin and lifted my face to meet his. I mentally gasped. It's the guy from last night. His eyes held surprise too, before anger erupted in them. I cowered back in fear of what he might do. "Who did this to your face?" He growled. I started to cry again and shake. "Him." I whispered and gave a small nod toward the guy who hit me.