Crossroads Novels & Stories

" He accelerated. The engine roared, eating up the desolate miles. I touched the pocket of my cargo pants. The notebook was still there. The Valravn, I thought. They know the terrain. They are probably watching us right now. I scanned the tree line. Nothing but gray bark and snow. But I knew better. Predators didn't let themselves be seen until it was too late. THE CROSSING Dead Man's Drop was a geological scar a massive ravine that separated the pack territories from the unregulated North. A single bridge spanned the gap. It was an old steel truss structure, rusted and groaning in the wind. Damian stopped the truck at the entrance to the bridge. "Checkpoint," he said, pointing ahead. There

Knox and Cass load sniper rifles onto their bikes as Phoenix sets up mobile communication equipment. Within twenty minutes, we're riding toward the Crossroads. The truck stop appears in the pre-dawn darkness—exactly what it sounds like. Three highways intersecting, a massive parking lot, a 24-hour diner, and a gas station that's seen better decades. Neutral territory by treaty. No pack can claim it, no alpha can enforce laws here. It's where rogues meet, where illegal deals go down, where wolves come when they need to be anonymous. Perfect for a secret meeting or a perfect ambush.

He laughed to himself and steeled himself even more. After what felt like a few years of walking to him he finally saw it. The crossroad. The roads were dusty yellow with a few cracks travelling through them. The man stood on the left side of the road where at the edge of it stood an old wooden sign post that threatened to fall at any moment. The signs were pointing towards a direction with the names on them. The forwards, left, right arrows read ‘NOWHERE’, while the last arrow which pointed towards the road that he came from read, ‘MAYBE SOMEWHERE’.

Damon crossed the floor, running a critical eye over every detail; the lighting, the projection angles, the placement of the CrossTech insignia. Everything was under control. Just as he liked it. But somewhere, in the back of his mind, the thought remained. ShadowByte is out there. And when Damon Cross wanted something, it was only a matter of time.

** Crossroads** The summer sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over Seabreeze as the town bustled with the energy of tourists and locals alike. Claire and Ethan’s expanded business was thriving, and the second location had quickly become a favorite spot for those seeking unique, handcrafted items that celebrated the artistry of the coastal region. The response had been overwhelmingly positive, and Claire and Ethan felt as though they were riding a wave of success that they never could have imagined when they first set out on this journey.

she replied and walked away. Oh! Goodness. What have I done? Maybe it had fallen close to the car or something. I just need to check. I climbed the fence and jumped back to the compound. And immediately, I started looking around. I couldn't afford to lose the treasure. I just couldn't. I searched all the way to the car. And to make it worst, I bumped into someone - The son's friend. I think his name is James. He scoffed and stared at me in shock.

୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧ What choice would Izzy make when her two worlds finally collided?

And I shudder at the thought. The law in this county as well as the Feds have created a roadblock in and out of Waycross, where Bale slaughtered eight humans only hours before. They aren’t making our job any easier as their closure has made traffic a standstill and pretty much blocked our access to the town. Not that we need to get right to the crime scene, as Grady has kept us in the loop, but if we don’t get close enough to get our noses to the ground, we can’t pick up the rogue and the girl’s scents.

I instructed, the driver shooting me a curious glance in the rearview mirror. The Crossroads wasn't on any map, not in the human world anyway. It was a hidden bus stop, a portal between realities, a place where the veil between worlds thinned. The journey was long, the cab weaving through deserted industrial areas, before finally pulling up at a desolate bus stop bathed in an eerie, silver light. There, under the watchful gaze of a full moon, a solitary bus sat idling. Its paint was chipped, its windows glowed with an otherworldly luminescence. This was it.

My only saving grace was that the door was wide open, so I doubted he’d try anything. “Are you ok Miss Cross?” he questioned. Something clicked for me. “How do you know my name?” “It’s on the register,” he replied. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Except it says Hunt on the register.” He scratched the back of his neck, bringing my attention to his delicious arms. “Lucky guess?” There was something strange going on here, but I ignored it as I smirked, walking up to him. “Mr Cage whose full name I don’t know, you’re coming off as a stalker right now.”