Beaufort Swan Novels & Stories

She was with him the first time she came here, and now she was alone. However, she wasn’t sad or disappointed. Her body and soul were ruined beyond repair… She was still calm; Silje realized that if a person was in too much pain, it could make that person tranquil. It was a gloomy winter day and too early for the park to be crowded with people. Oddly enough though, the lake was swarming with white swans. Staring at them, Silje suddenly felt something. The white swans… “…” The whiteness of them reminded her of ashes, bringing back the devastation to her heart.

I'm not worried about our city central. Thorne Tower and the penthouse above it were already an impenetrable fortress, entirely insulated from this mess. And that's where the little swan is nested. As long as she stays there she's safe. "We let them step into Vegas, and then we bury them."

As Max had phrased it, ‘You could fuck a tree, and as long as you are a good person, I would accept you. I’m currently sitting by the lake; this has become my paradise. We have been blessed with a small flock of swans who have decided to make a stop on their way south for the winter. They are truly majestic creatures and appear unfazed by the presence of wolves. Their pure white feathers glisten when wet, and they own the water.

Somewhere in the shadows, the blinds trembled as if holding back the city’s chaos—as if the room itself was waiting, patient and watchful, for him to speak. Declan Patridge stood far away in front of his unlit fireplace with his back to Andrew, his hand buried deeply in his pockets, sleeves rolled past his elbow—the epitome of a man winding down after another busy day, but still, Andrew gulped—the sound loud enough to grab Declan's full attention. “What brings you back here?” His somber voice landed like a blade in the haunting echoes of the office. The strains of Swan Lake bled softly through the office, all strings and sorrow, echoing against the tall windows like a memory that refused to

she whined, her pout melting into giggles as she finally accepted the cake from Janine’s hand. Nearby, a young couple passing by gasped. "What a perfect little family!" the girl cooed. Janine and Nina ducked shyly against Michael’s shoulder. Just then, above their heads, I heard it: Ryder’s scream, raw and piercing. I spun toward the sound. My son was strapped into the drop tower, rising higher and higher, his throat already hoarse from crying. Ryder had always been terrified of heights. Michael knew that. It was the reason he had refused to buy a high-rise apartment, choosing a lower floor for Ryder instead.

The clouds part further, and a beam of pure silver light falls directly on the swan. And she changes again. The white of her feathers begins to blush. A soft, delicate pink spreads across her wings, her body, her neck. It deepens, becoming richer, more vibrant. She glows in the moonlight, a creature of impossible, breathtaking beauty. A pink swan. I gasp. The sound is torn from my throat. Raymond's hand clamps down on my shoulder. "Alec. Alec! Is that..." "A Royal," I breathe. "The Rosethorn line. They said they were all lost. At the Lake of Tears. But she's..."

Wyatt The Beast blocked me out as I tried to force my way through the chaos of energy discharging throughout our territory. My panic and distress were nothing to him as he glanced over our shoulder, towards the island, towards Bri, before he pursued his trekking around the swamp. The boys whined in protest, Beau elicited a short-lived snarl before The Beast projected his aura forcing everyone to comply. Heads down, ears slack, tails tucked.

Deep added, admiring the classic beauty surrounding them. Their exploration led them to the Boston Public Garden, where the tranquility of the swan boats gliding across the pond created a serene backdrop. "This garden is enchanting," Gia remarked, watching the graceful movements of the swans. "Just like you," Deep replied, causing Gia to laugh and playfully nudge him.