Devotion Novels & Stories

“You know I could make all this go away. I can make the charges disappear, but I’m going to need something from you first.” I knew what it was before he even said it. “Sign the papers,” he leaned down to tuck a strand of hair from my face while maintaining eye contact with me. “And then disappear from my life, forever.” He said it with so much certainty that I felt like he had driven a stake clean through my heart, impaling me with his words. I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all before it finally settled in my head. Curtis Blackwood was the fucking devil.

she said softly, "I’m willing to submit to you completely. Whatever you do to me, I’ll accept it, even if it kills me. So you don’t need to feel guilty. "Maybe you’ll think I’m pathetic, but in a world of devotion, the devoted one is the true lead. I’ll wait for you and follow you. As long as you ever turn around, you’ll see me standing right there."

For one disorienting moment she could not tell where her own chest ended and his began, whether the slow tightening beneath her ribs belonged to her or to him. Devotion. Adoration. The emotions settled differently than desire had. Desire burned. These remained. They spread through her like sunlight through stained glass, illuminating rather than consuming, carrying a weight that felt frighteningly real because it asked nothing of her except recognition. The realisation moved through her slowly, but with absolute clarity, the shape of it impossible to mistake now that she had felt it, not just once, but enough to understand the distinction. This wasn’t hunger s

“You do not know love. You know obsession.” “I know enough,” he replied. “And I will show you what devotion looks like. I will show you every day you spend here.” He leaned closer again, speaking softly near my ear. “You will never be alone again. Not even for a moment. I will be here. Watching. Guarding. Wanting.” “Never,” I whispered. His breath touched my skin with a quiet, chilling laugh. “I can wait.” He straightened and moved toward the door. Before leaving, he turned back, his face shadowed with something twisted and consuming. His expression held no triumph or rage. It held something far more frightening. It held the kind of de

She woke up something in me I thought was long dead, Not softness, Not tenderness but purpose, direction, Obsession that has sharpened into devotion. Devotion for her! And now that she’s beneath me, trusting me, wanting me, there is no fucking universe where I walk away again. She deserves better than the broken, scarred thing I am But I’m going to become better anyway because she deserves that version of me and because if anything ever hurts her again, if anything ever threatens her life, her body, her peace…… I will end it personally, Completely and without remorse. She’s not just a principal anymore, she’s not an assignment,

“You are safe here.” She remembered scoffing internally. Safe had become a word people used too easily. “Devotion Assurance is designed to support clarity, purpose, and emotional alignment,” the voice continued. “Participation is voluntary. You may disengage at any time.” A pause. “Do you wish to proceed?” Mara had hesitated. She told herself she was just tired. That this was no different from meditation protocols, from the grounding exercises Rowan himself had once taught during a brutal winter. “Yes,” she had said.

But beneath the steel in his voice was something else. Strain. Because if this were easy for him, the words would not weigh so heavily. “True devotion,” he finished, “is proven not in the absence of feeling… but in the mastery of it.” Silence. Then soft applause as he stepped back. Applause. As though he had delivered a beautiful, noble teaching. As though he hadn’t just drawn a line through my chest. Mass continued. I stood, knelt and responded automatically. But my mind replayed every word.

The world feels frozen. Like the end of the world rests on my shoulders. In this minute, everything can change. No one seems to move once I start speaking. The clouds open up and lightning strikes. I’m running out of time. “Devotion isn’t about your soulmate. It comes from so much more. From the bond created to cement a life beyond what we all thought was possible. From friendship that has a power to destroy a person once their gone. Devotion to a mother that could transpire the grave. To the ability to stay friends with the nobody, everybody else hated. To a bond so strong you stayed by her side and helped her find her way home

I gave myself to it, to him, because I trusted him in ways that made my chest ache. “Mine,” he growled softly, forehead pressed to mine as his hand slid over my waist. “Always mine.” “Yes,” I breathed, the word tumbling out unbidden. “Always.” What followed blurred into fire and need, into the kind of intimacy that made the rest of the world fall away. Devon’s dominance was steady, unyielding, yet laced with a tenderness that made me tremble. He pushed, yes, teased and claimed and reminded me with every movement that I was his but he also worshiped, as though every inch of me deserved his devotion.

He holds it in front of me, silent, waiting. I close my eyes. The silk settles over them with a softness that contrasts with the hands that place it — firm, calloused, absolutely certain. The knot behind my head is adjusted with precision that doesn’t tighten but allows no doubt. The world disappears. “Yes, my treasure,” he murmurs, voice rough and low against my ear. “Now you don’t see. You only feel. And I’m going to make you feel every fucking thing I want.” The Devotion What remains are sounds — light rain outside, gentle wind entering through the dome, Declan’s breathing closer than my eyes would tell me. And smells — cold stone, Irish night air, and him.