A Time Of Dread Novels & Stories

He struggled to find a sense of calm amidst the storm, desperately grasping for any semblance of reassurance. As the seconds turned into minutes, Darren's worry and unease only intensified. Each passing moment seemed to stretch into an eternity, heightening his anticipation and exacerbating his fears. He knew that time was slipping away, that every passing second brought them closer to a possible resolution, yet the uncertainty of the outcome kept him on edge.

She knew pushing would cause a scene, and right now the pack didn’t need more tension. “Tell Madeline I’ll come when I can,” Ember said softly. Kellan gave a sympathetic nod, but he looked as guilty as she felt. Holding Madeline back felt cruel. But Darius’s fear had become a chain around everyone. The first sign that something was wrong hit them an hour later. A tremor. Small, but sharp enough to shake dust from the ceiling beams. Ember turned toward the window. The sky had begun to darken. Not like a storm.

THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW Sitting on his throne, Dread read Petal’s letter again and again rather than listening to his kingdom’s affair. ‘An urgent issue came up that I have to take care of. I will be back soon to visit you’ Dread clutched the letter a little harder than he intended as he murmured, “But it has been over a week,” he said to himself, displeasure and irritation of the separation from her bubbling up under his skin.

“In one month, humanity will be eradicated. Your world will be shattered — and Lennox will be the weapon.” A wave of icy dread washed over me. My stomach dropped, my breath caught in my throat, and my limbs felt achingly heavy. For a moment, everything seemed to collapse into one terrifying thought. One month… Lennox… leading this destruction. My chest tightened, fingers digging into my palms, as if trying to anchor myself against the chilling fear that threatened to engulf me.

“...it just does not feel like the right time to celebrate anything.” “What do you mean it is not the right time?” Hayden scolded gently, lifting her chin with his finger so she had to look into his eyes. “Anytime is the right time to celebrate your achievements, mine. You cannot let Troy’s shadow steal your joy.” “But Troy’s threat is still hanging directly over our heads,” she whispered, her eyes dark with a sudden, suffocating dread. “We have absolutely no idea when he is going to pull the trigger. This waiting... It’s a terrible, agonizing feeling.”

It was Dante's voice, but mythic and far away, like an echo from another realm. "Dante?" I stepped back, my heart a painful weight in my chest, clashing against the reality around me as I breathed in the cold night air. The scents of decay and loss intertwined with the hopelessness settled within. Then, as quickly as it had started, it stopped. The footsteps faded into an oppressive silence, swallowed by the darkness. Fear gripped Azize again as she squeezed my arm. I could feel her trembling, a fragile reality collapsing around us. "Time is not on our side, Andrew. If we don't move now, we might lose everything."

The comfort of their embrace was a lifeline, but the chilling premonition of loss remained, a silent warning in the quiet dawn. The quiet comfort of our shared embrace in the dawn light slowly began to ease the raw edges of my fear, but the chilling clarity of the nightmare lingered like a shadow. The images – Ryder broken, Caden silenced, Jaxon pursued – replayed in my mind, each horrifying detail a stark reminder of the potential dangers that constantly lurked just beyond our borders.

The thrill in the atmosphere had suddenly thinned out into layers of disbelief and utter dread. The moment dragged on forever. Neither spoke. Neither moved. The perfect fun day suddenly turned around. In one fleeting glance everything changed. And with that, all their joy faded from sight and something even more dreadful took its place.

Because after midnight, no one brought good news. Additionally, deep down, There was a growing sense of dread.

Her fear melted slightly, replaced by trust, by something tender and unspoken. “I… I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You won’t,” he murmured back. “Not as long as I’m here.” And in that quiet aftermath, amidst fear, adrenaline, and uncertainty, something shifted between them—a fragile, blooming connection, a silent promise, and the unspoken knowledge that they would face whatever came next together.