A Cry In The Night Book Novels & Stories

“Call me when you’re done being crazy, Lyra. Or don’t. I’m tired of this.” The door slammed behind him. The sound reverberated through the quiet apartment, leaving only the rain and my ragged breathing. I stood there for a long moment, cheeks burning with shame and something else I couldn’t name. Slowly, I walked to the worktable. My fingers trembled as I broke the crimson seal. The paper fell away, revealing an old leather-bound volume, its cover embossed with faded gold lettering in a language that looked like a mix of Latin and something far older.

Her heart gave a painful jolt at the realization. Another moan mixed with a deep grunt rung in the air, causing a piercing pain to spear through her chest. His grunt. She put her hand on his mouth as tears washed down her eyes. He was with someone. Not being able to hear it anymore, she rushed back into her tent. She got on her bed and buried her face into her bedspread. She cried till the morning, the sound of their grunts and moans kept haunting her throughout the night. The book has entered the contest. I would really appreciate all the support I could get.

She screamed into the night, hoping someone—anyone—might hear her. But the village was too far, and the quiet countryside swallowed her cries. The last thing she saw was the glint of the car’s dark windows as they forced her inside. The door slammed shut, the engine roared to life, and the vehicle disappeared into the night, leaving nothing but a scattered pile of books behind. Lia’s head throbbed as she stirred awake, her body heavy and her vision blurred. The softness beneath her was unfamiliar—too plush, too extravagant for the modest cot in her room.

“And if it sees your fear, it feeds.” ★★★ ★★★ The dormitory was hushed that night, its silence thick and humming. Rain pressed faintly against the window, tapping like fingers that wanted in. Elowyn sat on the bed with her knees drawn close, the dim lamp flickering beside her. The book she’d stolen from the restricted aisle of the Draven Clan’s records lay open before her — older than the Academy itself, its spine cracked, its scent sharp and metallic. The ink on its pages wasn’t still.

"Remon, I was under the impression that you wanted me to be okay when I became pregnant. The fact is that you appear to be making things worse! I yelled as I walked back to the room where I had woken up and pushed myself to one side of the mattress. I couldn't stop crying, but the tears were heavy and my chest hurt. "I don't want to," says the author. I say to Yhra, "Dinner is ready." I rose to my feet and stood up to follow him, much to my dismay. When I first feel the jerking between light and darkness, it will be late in the afternoon. "Be careful," she said as she guided me down the staircase, as if I were a princess. Now, I'm afraid I'll get injured again next time.

But I can’t. Darkness surrounds me, pulling me down and pinning me against the cold, hard ground. A fire burns behind me, crackling and smoking, burning something that leaves the most awful smell in the air. A baby’s cry rings out, blood-curdling and full of pain. His endless cries fill the night. Suddenly, there’s silence, followed by a woman’s scream. I can feel her pain as if the loss were my own. Wind blows embers onto my face, and the sky above me is red.

"If you want to sleep you can..." "Can I lie on your bed?" Craig looks at her, he finds himself creating space for her, even though he is a playboy, no woman had lied on his bed not here not even in his room at the mansion. All of them end up in his hotel room or condominium. She is sleeping, she snores but very low, Craig smiles, and then tears drop from her eyes. "Why is she crying? I did not..." He tries to wake her, and Cathy talks in subconsciousness.

What the actual fuck? She was so unbelievable. Who cries because a book has sad ending? It was just a book. “You’re crying because of this book?” She nodded. “You’re unbelievable.” She how she folded like a baby under the covers and kept sniffing and cleaning her tears that didn’t stop flowing. She was slowly going to the land of sleep as it was calling her badly. She closed her eyes. Ring! Ring! The sound of Marcel’s phone ringing made her eyes open again as she was not deep in sleep and she raised her head to look at him staring at his phone after making it silent a bit. Who was calling at this time of the night?

" I stare at the side of his face for a moment. I am Frozen for a thought hits me. There is only one window in the library. ------------------------------------------- My fingers quietly sift through the pages of the old Kings' journal, Xiirian Adonis Prime, The 8th Night Wolf. The sound of the slight brushes of pages and my small breaths are drowned by the snores of the other slaves that are already fast asleep, against the silence of midnight. It is well into the night, but I cannot sleep. Not when Night Wolf's words seem to bleed through the pages. He lived a life crueler than I ever imagined. His grief. His loneliness. I thought it was parallel to mine but is far different. It is deeper

If tears were the price of divinity, then let the night remember mine. END OF BOOK 1💜