Amber Storm Novels & Stories

𝘽𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙢 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙢. 𝙃𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙇𝙚𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙣

The silver winter that had blanketed Oakhaven for weeks finally culminated in a "Century Storm"—a meteorological \bm{Anomaly} that turned the Atlantic into a churning wall of white. The wind didn't just howl; it screamed, a high-frequency vibration that rattled the ancient floorboards of the flower shop and threatened to pull the shingles from the roof.

Strong enough to endure all of their mistreatment. She opens the window and stares outside. It was a gray morning and the wind was rather chilly. Lauren decided to close the window as the weather doesn't look good. Thunder roared across the sky that made her flinch. Soon enough, the raindrops were heard. The rain starts pouring hard outside the house. It looks like the rain won't stop any time soon. She turns back to see her room again and begins cleaning her messy room. Her things were scattered on the floor. She sighed and shook her head as she recalled again what happened a while ago.

There was a storm outisde. It was raining cats and dogs , with the occasional clapping of thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. This sorta weather is tailor made for snuggling inside a warm comforter ,drinking hot cocoa while binge watching American Horror Story .But instead I'm stuck in school , typing ferrociously at Amanda's laptop , my fingers begging for a break , afraid they'll fall off my knuckles .

Lexa Austin brushes my shoulder as he moves in front of me, the two of us towering over the beach on our perch high above the waves. Without the fires, the beach is practically invisible, but it’s the silence that’s unnerving. I look out over the water with the slightest turn of my head. It’s a clear, beautiful night… at least, it was. A strange storm funnels toward the shoreline, smoke-like tendrils of dark mist creeping over the sea in whirls and swirls that carry the unmistakable taste of… copper. The mist floods the beach. Strange orange-hued lightning crackles in the silent storm beyond without the warning of thunder.

The storm had swallowed the city whole. Rain poured from the sky in relentless sheets, turning the streets into rivers of silver and shadow. The wind howled through the alleys, tearing through the night like a beast hunting its prey. Amara ran. Her breath was ragged, her limbs trembling, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The world blurred around her, distorted by the rain and the panic clawing at her chest. Her soaked clothes clung to her skin, her shoes splashed through puddles, and every heartbeat felt like a hammer against her ribs.

CHAPTER 14 The moon-silver net didn’t feel like rope. It felt like cold certainty. It tightened in slow, deliberate pulls—like something patient was learning my shape. Each breath I took made it bite deeper, and my mark burned like it was being branded from the inside. Dax slammed into the edge of the circle, but the air around it flashed and threw him back a step, hard. “Aria!” he barked. Vesper moved fast—faster than her lazy posture suggested—knives appearing in her hands like thoughts. She slashed at the silver threads.

she asked me with a smile. “I’d have more fun if we were alone,” I said. She took my hand and we walked down the beach towards Angels Rest. We crossed the street and darted into the large cluster of trees that stood on the other side of Beach Drive. Within seconds I had Kari up against one of the trees as we kissed, our hands roaming all over each other. I’d already shifted at sixteen and for me it was worse than it was for her. My hormones were in overdrive and the pull of the moon seemed to make it worse, especially around her.

I was frozen in place for what felt like forever. I did not shed even a single tear. It turned out that when a person felt the most devastated they had ever felt, they would not even be able to cry. The sun dipped below the horizon. A blood-red glow swallowed everything. The television said it would get hotter in the next few days. It was dry, so we had to be careful about fires.