Calm Before The Storm Book Novels & Stories

I never imagined that this was the calm before the storm. – End of chapter 8 -

Turns out the publishing firm had someone pull out of a book signing today in the city, they want me to take their place and have my first book signing today. I was discussing the details with Clara who I met back in London, she was informing me of the time and place set for the book signing. My eyes locked on Roman the whole time as I watched him pull on his trousers. “Breakfast?” he asked quietly I shook my head in response, I felt nauseous from the moment I woke. Roman glared at me with a serious expression, I couldn’t tell him I was nauseous so I nodded and smiled instead. Roman relaxed, his expression becoming softer, I continued chatting to Clara as Roman headed out of the lounge.

With each word that left my lips thunder sounded from somewhere outside the building, lightning flashing across the room as a uncontrollable storm raged both outside and inside my mind. No matter how high I counted in my mind, I couldn’t calm down the way that mother had taught me, I couldn’t reign my wolf back as I had done so many times before. My jaw and claw elongating almost painfully as I tried to fight it. No no no, calm down, calm down! I told myself harshly as I clutched my chest. My lungs struggling to take in enough air. The alpha was completely unfazed, acting as though the storm was just a minor distraction, his voice firm and commanding, telling me that he was using his alpha t

I didn’t have an answer and I prayed I didn’t have to make the choice. Not only had everyone stopped moving but it had gone deathly silent. For a moment, everyone and everything froze. There wasn’t a whisper of wind in the air, the trees stood still, and it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. It was the calm before the storm. It felt like someone had pushed the pause button and all at once the play button was pressed and all hell broke loose.

Maybe it was. The adrenaline wore out during breakfast, during the worried looks of my father, during our ride to the school in silence. There was nothing to it, just a woolling reversion to order nothing to it, but beneath it all there rippled a slowly gathering sense of ease of ease, not of calm, but of stupefying stillness. Like the sea right before the storm. I didn’t care anymore. Not about Nicholas. Not about Ashley. Not about the whispers. If they wanted war, they had it.

"Between friends, there's no need for thanks." … When the ship docked, Emma checked into a local hotel to prepare for her upcoming book signing two days later. But she had no idea that a storm was about to strike. On the day of the event, Emma wore a simple white dress and arrived on time at the carefully decorated venue arranged by the publishing house. To her delight, the room was already filled with passionate readers. The moment she appeared, the crowd erupted with excitement. "Emma! I love your books!" "Can you write me a message of encouragement on the title page?"

The mark glowed once, sharp and insistent, casting a sheen across my palm. Some storms don’t rage. They wait. And for the first time in days, the calm I’d built felt like it was starting to crack.

His anger was like a tornado, it swept everything before it; everything. The storm would get worse if you were to stand in its path, you might lose everything, or worst of all, you might get yourself killed. Would I ever be able to walk through the hurricane with both legs intact? I couldn’t risk it. So after a minute of indecision, I slowly closed the book, put it aside, and stared at my ceiling noticing its fine patterns as if it was going to miraculously produce answers that might reveal my innermost feelings. My mind was racing, my thoughts were chaotic and all I could think about was how easy it would be for the whole situation to spiral out of control.

James sat beside me, stroking my arms, patting my hair gently. I closed my eyes. My body was here. But my heart was already planning its escape. Because this calm, this kindness, this warmth, it all felt like the quiet before a storm. And I knew, deep down, something worse was coming.

--------------- The Calm Before the Storm The fortress was alive with activity, warriors and weapons being sharpened, low prayers whispered to gods who had long since stopped paying attention. The air was charged with expectancy, the sort that descended into bones, into fate. I was standing outside, watching the sun get lower, setting the sky on fire. It felt fitting. In the fading light of day, Maxwell spots me there, a storm behind me. “I don’t like this” he said softly.