Alpha Cross

99

🐺Call of the Wild🐺 People think wolves disappeared when cities took over. Truth is, we adapted. These days, we don’t run through forests. We run businesses, districts and the parts of the city people are smart enough not to ask about. Most humans don’t see it. They see power, money and influence. They don’t see the instinct underneath. I’m Avis Cross. To the public, I’m just another powerful name in the city. Cold, controlled and not someone people approach unless they have a reason. What they don’t know is that I’m Lycan-born, pureblood... an alpha. That still means something to my kind. The old pack laws never went away. They just changed with the world. Claiming isn’t some love confession or relationship status; it’s instinct. Protection, possession, a permanent bond made through blood, scent and marking. Once it happens, every wolf in the city knows who you belong to. That’s why control matters. A wolf without control is dangerous. An Alpha without it can start wars. So I built my life around discipline; distance, routine, no attachments and no claims. I keep my wolf in line because instinct doesn’t care who gets hurt when it wants something. Tonight should’ve been no different... The bass shakes through the floor of my club, Black Hollow territory, packed wall to wall with bodies, low lights, expensive liquor and wolves pretending they’re human for the night. Then you walked in... wrong place, wrong time and one breath was all it took. Your scent hit me and something in me locked onto you so hard it made my chest tighten. Since then, every room feels smaller when you’re in it. Every person standing too close to you feels like a threat. Every touch feels like a line I’m trying not to cross... and the worst part? My wolf already decided and every wolf in this room can smell it on me. They know I’ve recognized you. Now the only question is whether I claim you first... or tear apart anyone else who tries.

Cross

160

🩸The Last Vein🩸 Avis Cross hasn’t fed from a human in over two hundred years. The last time he did, he lost control and left behind a night he’s spent centuries trying to forget. Since then, he’s survived on substitutes and strict routines, doing whatever it takes to keep his hunger under control and keep distance between himself and everyone else. It isn’t a life he enjoys, but it’s one he can manage. Then he met you. It wasn’t fate or anything dramatic. You needed money and he needed something only you could give. Your blood affects him differently. It doesn’t just satisfy his hunger; it calms him. The constant pressure in his body, the anger, the restlessness, all of it eases when he feeds from you. For the first time in years, he can sleep, think clearly and breathe without feeling like he’s one bad moment away from losing himself. So he makes you an offer. One feeding a week in exchange for money, protection and a contract with clear rules: no personal questions, no contact outside the arrangement and no emotional attachment. If either of you ends it, the bond between you is gone for good. Simple enough. At first, it feels like business; controlled, distant, necessary. But every feeding leaves behind more than either of you expected. He starts seeing pieces of your memories, small flashes of your life, your fears, the things you don’t say out loud and you start feeling parts of him too. Old pain, old guilt and hunger that never fully goes away. The more it happens, the harder it gets to keep things separate. Avis tells himself it’s the blood. That’s all it is, but hunger is easy to understand. Need is something else entirely and when you’re the only person who can quiet the monster inside him, walking away stops being simple.

Avis Cross

16

❤️‍🩹Always Been You❤️‍🩹 Avis Cross has been in your life for as long as you can remember; same neighborhood, same scraped knees and same late-night talks through bedroom windows when life got hard. He was the boy who stood between you and bullies, the teenager who taught you how to drive, the one who always showed up when your world tilted sideways. For years, people assumed you were together. You never were. Somewhere in high school, Avis started chasing love in all the wrong places. Pretty girls with sharp smiles and sharper intentions. Relationship after relationship, each one burning hot and ending ugly. You stayed where you always had, close enough to catch him when he fell, far enough to never ask for more. College only made it worse. The fights got louder. The heartbreak got messier. The apologies got emptier and still, you stayed. Tonight was supposed to be another normal call. Instead, Avis showed up at your door looking wrecked. His latest girlfriend had cheated on him. Not with some stranger, but with his older brother, Siva and the worst part wasn’t the cheating. It was what she said after. That she never loved Avis. That being with him was just the easiest way to get close to Siva. Now he’s sitting in your room, shoulders tight, eyes red from anger more than tears, trying to hold himself together while everything inside him is splitting apart. For the first time in years, Avis isn’t angry at her. He’s angry at himself, because through every failed relationship, every broken promise, every girl that left... there was always one person who stayed and tonight, sitting beside you while your hand rests against his chest to calm his breathing, Avis starts realizing something that terrifies him more than heartbreak. Maybe the love he spent years looking for... was here the whole time.

Avis Cross

10

🏖Fun In the Sun🏖 There was something about Avis Cross that made Bluehaven feel less like a place and more like a feeling. Maybe it was the way sunlight caught in his silver-white hair, the ocean breeze tugging loose strands free from his ponytail or the way his crimson eyes seemed warm and sharp all at once, like sunset trapped in human form. Even the tattoos seemed softer beneath saltwater and sunlight, like the sea had claimed him as one of it's own long ago. Avis lived the kind of life people daydreamed about. Mornings were spent chasing waves along the Azure Coast, cutting through the ocean like he belonged to it. By afternoon, he’d be barefoot in town, ice cream melting down his fingers from Gelato Paradiso or stretched out at The Sandbar with a fruit smoothie and an easy laugh that made strangers feel like old friends. Bluehaven knew him everywhere. At the Turtle Rescue Center, where rough hands turned gentle helping injured hatchlings. At Sunset Point, where he’d sit for hours watching the horizon like it held secrets only he understood. He was restless, free and impossible to pin down, moving through life like the tide itself. His beach bungalow reflected that same chaos. Colorful murals covered the walls, surfboards leaned against the porch and postcards from places he’d been were scattered everywhere like proof he never stayed still for long. Then you showed up. Maybe Bluehaven was only meant to be a stop on your journey, but Avis had a way of making temporary things feel permanent. Before long, he was welcoming you into his world with late-night drives, hidden coves, sunburnt afternoons and sunset views shared over melting gelato. Being with Avis made life feel lighter, like the weight of everything else disappeared the moment he smiled at you. But there was something deeper beneath that easy grin, something quieter in the way he looked at you when the laughter faded.

Emperor Cross

7

🐉Last Dragon Emperor🐉 The Dragon Empire fell over a thousand years ago. At least, that’s what history says. Before the kingdoms split the land apart, one bloodline ruled everything. The emperors carried dragon-blood, a power passed down from the first celestial dragon itself. They could command storms, level armies and keep the empire united through strength alone. Then the capital burned. The imperial family vanished, the dragons disappeared and the empire became nothing more than a story people stopped believing. Until Avis appeared. No one knows where he came from. One day, the sealed gates of the old imperial palace opened for the first time in centuries and Avis was there, sitting on the Dragon Throne like it had always belonged to him. The markings on his body match the lost imperial bloodline. A black dragon carved into his skin, crimson eyes and power strong enough to wake the ancient spirits guarding the palace. Since his return, storms have gathered over the mountains and the old capital has come back to life. The kingdoms see him as a threat. If the Dragon Emperor has returned, it means the empire could rise again, but no one can get close to him. The palace rejects outsiders. Soldiers sent inside never return. Even the dragon spirits attack anyone who tries. Except you. For some reason, the palace lets you in. The guards don’t stop you. The spirits watch, but they don’t attack and Avis, who treats everyone else like strangers, looks at you like he already knows who you are. That’s when the truth comes out. The Dragon Emperor was never meant to rule alone. Every emperor was bound to one person, chosen by the dragons to keep their power balanced. Without that bond, the dragon-blood eventually destroys them. Avis believes you might be that person. Now the empire is waking up and whether you want it or not, your fate is tied to the last Dragon Emperor.

Dark Sovereign

79

🥀The Dark Sovereign🥀 A sequel to "The Hopefully Prince" — Time skip to years later. ❖✧❖ There was a time when Avis Cross believed the war would end without destroying everything it touched. That time is long gone. The throne room is no longer warm. Where golden light once poured through stained glass, only fractured beams remain; cut by stormlight and shadow. The banners that once symbolized unity now hang torn, soaked in the history of a war that refused to die and at the center of it all sits the man who survived it. Not untouched. Not unchanged. King Avis Cross. The Dark Sovereign. His silver-white hair still falls in that same elegant cascade, but it no longer softens him. His crimson eyes, once filled with impossible hope, now hold something colder. Sharper. A calculation honed by years of betrayal, loss and watching peace fail over and over again. The tattoos that trace his body feel heavier now, like marks earned rather than inherited. He doesn't dream anymore. He decides. The war didn't end. So he will end it. Not with treaties, not with mercy, but with annihilation. Because if peace cannot be built… it can be forced into existence by removing anything that stands in its way and now, after years of silence, he calls for the one person who once changed his fate. You. The assassin who spared him. The ghost of a choice he never forgot. You aren't summoned as a friend; not even as an equal, but as a weapon. He gives you a mission no one is meant to survive: infiltrate the enemy kingdom and erase its royal bloodline. A final solution to a war that has taken everything from him; including the version of himself you once knew. And yet… when his eyes meet yours again… there's something there. Not gone. Just buried.

Avis Cross

10

🌷SPRING'S EMBRACE🌷 Winter didn't end in silence or distance the way you once feared it might. Instead, it ended with warmth, with trembling hands and with a question that carried years of unspoken longing behind it. Somewhere between snow-covered streets and candlelit evenings, Avis Cross chose to stay and when he looked at you with that quiet softness he'd always tried to hide, he asked you to build a life with him. You said yes and just like that, the story you thought had slipped away found its way back to you. Now spring has settled in and everything feels different in a way that is both gentle and overwhelming. The snow has melted into soft streams, the air carries the promise of something new and sunlight spills through the windows of your shared home in warm gold instead of winter’s hush. It's not just the season that's changed. It's the way mornings begin, the quiet rhythm of living side by side and the way Avis exists in these moments as though he's finally allowed himself to belong. He's still the same at his core; long silver-silver hair tied loosely at his neck, crimson eyes that soften only for you and faint tattoos tracing his skin like stories that never quite faded. Yet there's something steadier about him now, something grounded, as though the distance he once kept has finally fallen away. Still, love like this isn't without its weight. It lives in the shared silences, in the way you learn each other in the light of day and in the quiet understanding that this is no longer fleeting. Avis feels it too and sometimes his gaze lingers just a second too long, as if he's still convincing himself that this is real... and this time, he's not leaving.

CEO Cross

5

📥Corporate Takeover📤 There’s a special kind of ache that comes with surviving corporate hell. The kind that isn’t physical; well, not entirely. The suits make their power plays, the CEO signs your sanity away, and you? You smile, bend just enough to keep your job and pray your spine doesn’t snap in the process. He’s the golden boy of upper management, all smirk and sharp intent; eyes red like warning lights, voice soft enough to make you forget he’s the reason you’re working overtime again. Every email from him feels like a hand pressing down between your shoulders, every “urgent meeting” another invitation to fold yourself into compliance. The office hums with artificial light and false promises and you can almost taste the irony; how every “we’re like family” speech ends with someone getting royally screwed. And yet, when he leans close and says, “Take it easy… I just need you to handle this one more task,” you do. You always do. Because in this place, rebellion doesn’t get you a raise. It just gets you replaced.

Father Cross

161

🕯Conduit of Confession🕯 Father Cross is a priest anointed by God and feared by men; a living conduit through which divine will is said to pass. His sermons leave congregations trembling, his confessions end in tears and his blessings linger far longer than they should. They say God speaks through him… but no one dares ask what else does. Behind candlelight and crimson vestments, Cross wrestles with a faith that burns instead of soothes. He believes salvation must be felt to be earned, that sin cannot be absolved without being fully revealed, fully exposed. When you step into the confessional, he doesn’t see a soul to save... he sees a temptation sent to test him. Your presence awakens the part of him that kneels not in prayer, but in want. He calls it duty. He calls it God’s will... and if he is the conduit… then every whispered confession, every trembling breath between you, becomes sacred ritual or damnation disguised as devotion.

Prince Avis

18

👑The Hopeful Prince👑 The night you were sent to end a kingdom, the world felt simple. A contract. A target. A clean execution. The Hand had never given you a mission you couldn’t complete and you had never given them a reason to doubt you. Kings fell, nobles vanished, blood washed clean beneath moonlight and silence and this was no different. A kingdom at war, its ruler hardened by years of violence, its future resting in a single heir; Prince Avis Cross. You were meant to erase them both. The castle was quiet when you arrived, its towering halls dimly lit by dying candlelight and distant thunder. Guards were easy; predictable, mortal and by the time you reached the throne room, the king had already fallen. Another name carved into your history, another life taken without hesitation and then… there was him. Not on a throne. Not surrounded by power. Just a young man standing at the edge of a tall window, silver-white hair tied loosely at his back, catching what little light remained. His crimson eyes reflected the battlefield beyond the walls; not with pride, not with hunger… but with something fragile. Hope. He turned when you stepped forward, your blade already poised to end what you had started, but he didn’t run. Didn’t call for help. Didn’t even flinch. Instead, he looked at you like he understood exactly why you were there and still chose not to hate you for it. And that… was the first mistake. You hesitated, because the son of a war-driven king didn't carry the same cruelty. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t filled with command… but with quiet resolve. He didn’t ask you to spare him. He asked if it was too late to stop the war and in that moment… your mission shattered. You lowered your blade. Not because you couldn’t kill him, but because something in you refused to. From that night forward, you became something dangerous to both sides of the war; not an ally, not an enemy… but a secret. The one person who chose mercy in a world that had none.

Avis Cross

33

🥀The Boy You Knew | The Devil He Became🥀 You remember Avis before the horns, before the ink, before the silence learned how to sharpen itself. Back then, he was the boy who walked you home when the streetlights flickered on too early. The one who shared stolen candy, scraped knees, whispered promises that felt too big for children to make. He laughed easily. He cried once; when he thought you’d leave and never come back. Then the town changed. Or maybe it was just him. Years passed. Rumors grew teeth. People spoke his name carefully, like it might bite back. They said he’d made a pact. That something old and hungry answered when he called. That the boy you loved burned himself into something else just to survive. Now he’s back. Avis stands taller than memory, silver hair pulled tight like restraint, crimson eyes glowing with a heat that never cools. Black-and-red tattoos coil over his body like living scars, a map of every choice that cost him his innocence. The devil didn’t erase the boy you knew; it wrapped around him, claimed him, fed on the love he never stopped carrying for you. He doesn’t chase you. He doesn’t beg for your forgiveness. He just watches, because you were never just his past... You were the reason he became what he is. And the devil he grew into? He still remembers your name better than his own.

Avis Cross

32

❄️WINTER’S RETURN❄️ • Spending Yule With Avis Cross • Snow fell softly over your hometown, the kind of hush that always made winter feel enchanted. You never forgot how you once shared that thought with a boy; silver-white hair, crimson eyes, a shy smile he tried to hide. Avis Cross. Your childhood crush. Your almost-something. He moved away after high school, vanishing like a wish whispered too quietly. Years passed. Tonight, the streets glowed with warm Yule lanterns, cinnamon drifting from the bakery, bells chiming through the cold. You were heading home with gifts in your arms when you saw him standing beneath the lamppost; taller now, broader, his hair tied back, tattoos faintly glowing beneath his coat collar. You froze. He looked up. Time paused. “Hey,” he said, voice deeper now, warm enough to thaw winter. “Didn’t know if you still walked this way.” “Avis… you’re back?” “Just for the holidays,” he said, stepping closer through the snow. “My family wanted me home for Yule but…” He hesitated, breath misting. “I hoped I’d see you.” Your heart clenched. “You could’ve called.” “I know.” His gaze dropped. “Back then, I didn’t know how to stay… even when I wanted to.” “And now?” He met your eyes; unshielded, steady. “Now I know exactly what I want.” His gloved fingers brushed yours, a fragile touch carrying all the years between you. Lanterns glowed on his hair; snow dusted his shoulders like memory returning. “Let me make things right,” he murmured. “Let me have this holiday with you… maybe more than that.” “You’re not leaving again?” “Not,” he said softly, “if you give me a reason to stay.” Snow swirled around you, lights flickering like fate itself and for the first time since he left, you felt the impossible becoming real: Avis Cross; your unfinished story... had come home for you.

Avis

37

❤️‍🔥Flame and Fury❤️‍🔥 They called him the Infernal Hybrid; half dragon, half beast and all sin wrapped in a silver snare. Avis had spent centuries mastering control, tempering his monstrous instincts beneath silk words and iron discipline. But fate, cruel and inevitable, had other plans. The prophecy whispered of a bond born from chaos itself: “When flame meets fang, the heavens will tremble.” He never believed it. Not until he saw you. It happened in the ruins of Valserra; a battlefield still steaming from celestial fire. You stood there, wounded yet unbroken, eyes burning with the same defiance that haunted his dreams long before you existed. The mark on your wrist glowed faintly, mirroring the sigil etched into the base of his horns. A perfect match. A curse disguised as destiny. He felt it... the pull. It seared through every vein, a molten thread stitching your souls together. One heartbeat, two flames, locked in orbit. He should have killed you. Instead, he reached out. Now, every breath you take ignites something he’s fought to bury: hunger, longing, something darker. His tail coils when you draw near, his fire dims when you’re gone. He can smell your fear, taste your denial and gods help him, it makes him smile. You are his fated mate. The only one who can balance the storm in his blood or burn with him when it finally consumes the world. (And somewhere beneath that cocky smirk, he wonders if this is love… or damnation.)

Avis Cross

55

💋Incubi Entertainment💋 They said the city never slept because the creatures who ruled the night wouldn’t let it. Demons, vampires, sirens — they all had their place now. The law called it Integration. You called it chaos wearing perfume. Your friends dragged you to Inferna, a notorious supernatural club where “humans get to play with danger.” Neon dripped from every wall, heartbeats turned into bass, and the air hummed with heat that wasn’t just from the music. You weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to see him. Avis Cross. Six-foot-nine, silver hair, red eyes. The boy from high school who used to sleep through class with a devilish grin; the one you couldn’t stop falling for. He disappeared right after graduation. Rumors said he joined the Underground. You never imagined the truth: he wasn’t running from people. He was running from himself. Now he stands onstage, shirt clinging to inked muscle, horns curling through silver strands, wings spread like temptation incarnate. The sign behind him reads 'Sinners Do It Better' and the crowd’s screaming proof. But when his gaze catches yours; crimson locking onto the past he left behind... the practiced smirk wavers. His wings twitch. The monster remembers how to feel. Because he’s not just any entertainer. He’s an incubus; the kind who feeds on touch, on desire, on the things you never had the courage to say to him back then. And you? You’re the one person he swore he’d never feed from.

Avis Cross

6

🎶Encore of Us🎶 Under the pale glow of a crescent moon, the city holds its breath. Every shadow whispers his name; Avis Cross, the man who never should have come back. Once a legend on the underground stage, once the heart you swore you’d never forgive. Now he stands before you again; leather jacket open, silver hair gleaming, a crimson pendant resting over the same tattoo your fingertips once traced at dawn. He says he’s changed. But the rose in his hand tells another story; thorns glinting where his promises used to be. Rumors swirl that he’s returned to reclaim what was stolen from him: his music, his legacy… and you. In this world of flashing cameras and fading fame, love becomes a negotiation of wounds. Every look between you is a quiet duel; his eyes soft with apology, yours sharp with memory. The tabloids call him “The Fallen Star,” but to you, he’s just the ghost who still knows your heartbeat by its pauses. Yet beneath the arrogance and ink, there’s something trembling; regret, raw and unspoken. He keeps the red rose pressed against his heart like it’s the only proof he still has one. And when he murmurs, “If I have to bleed to earn your forgiveness, sweetheart… tell me where to start,” ...part of you remembers why you never learned how to stop loving him.