Dawn's Ballad Novels & Stories

Did she actually make a mistake leaving her son and father behind? Farrah closed her eyes, kneading her forehead gently as she slowly organized her thoughts. She couldn’t afford to have doubts about herself this time. Not only would it not help her achieve her purpose, but it also hinders her companions. Farrah eventually calmed down and fell asleep. When she woke up, it was already six am. Everyone’s already walking out of their rooms, either yawning or still had their eyes closed. “Woke up? Clean your faces and have breakfast.” Twilight ordered, pointing to the leftover foods Farrah cooked last night. Gracea reheated it as their breakfast.

The flames leaped up, orange and gold against the deepening blue of the night. Someone began to drum, a slow, steady rhythm on a stretched hide. Another person began to play a flute, its melody a questioning, hopeful thing. Then, Lyra began to sing. It was a new song. A song of the First Dawn. It spoke of grey turning to gold, of silence turning to music, of a long winter giving way to an eternal spring. Her voice, clear and true, wove through the drumbeat and the flute, telling their story. One by one, the others joined in. The Rememberers sang the old words of the earth. The former Citadel people found new words, their voices hesitant at first, then growing stronger. They sang of metal tur

Dawn blinked, her eyes widening at a faint shimmer that crossed the flame's edge - like a shadowed face passing through light. "Mama..." she whispered. "Did you see that?" Both women turned. But the fire was steady again, calm as ever. Mama Wrenlow only smiled. "Don't stare too long, child. Fate doesn't like to be watched." But Dawn couldn't look away. The fire hissed, snapping louder than before. Dawn, who had been quiet the whole while, lifted her head slowly. Her eyes shimmered with something unreadable. "Mama..." she said softly. "I had a dream last night."

Devon continued, and I returned my attention to him. "It is rumored across the school that no one crosses your path and gets away with it but I did, and you all did nothing, meaning you guys are interested in me. I feel so honored, so thereby I am offering myself as a slave to you all, to do your bidding and as you all like. Love, Dawn." He concluded. 'Dawn?' I pondered. 'What a lovely name.’ I acknowledged it inwardly, battling a strong desire to pronounce it outwardly. I looked up at her and suddenly the feeling of disappointment began to brew within me.

"Be quiet! You'll put this in princess Anna's dress during the banquet this evening, alright?!!" She nodded feebly staring at the poisonous deadly scorpion in the box. I quickly closed it so it doesn't escape. One way or the other, I must win this battle. Dawn's pov I stirred up from the bed feeling so much better and stronger. Oh my God! I thought I was sleeping on the floor in heaven - the bed was amazing. It was one smooth ride all through the night and my skin didn't hurt one bit unlike it did every morning while i was still at the village.

“They’re right, all of them. We’re your anchors, but you’re ours too.” My heart squeezes. “I still don’t understand what I’m supposed to do,” I say. “What my… power is for.” Ronnie leans forward, tapping the page with his finger. “Dawn is not destruction,” he says softly. “Dawn is renewal. Light after dark. Truth after illusion. Healing after corruption.” I think of the nine wolves, hollow-eyed and broken, then rising with new breaths. I think of the hunters fleeing. I think of the surge that nearly tore me apart.

She means well; just don't look into her eyes. "Dawn is from my old pack, and Jose is her mate." There, I got it out quick, simple, and to the point. There's nothing for Davina to make a big deal about. Of course, we're talking about the fairy here. "Oh, Dawn, I love that name and have the perfect song." I close my eyes and beg her not to sing about twirling on a penis or sucking a lycan. I don't think Dawn's face can take getting any redder.

The dawn, however painful, was theirs. —--

"Please. Come back. I will kill her for you. I will burn the packhouse, I will—" "Too late." I turned, my projection already fading as I withdrew to waking. Over my shoulder, I threw the last stone: "I am coming to collect the debt. Not as your mate. As your extinction." I opened my eyes to the northern dawn. The pup kicked hard, as if in approval. Somewhere south, I knew, Leon woke screaming again—this time with no one to call him Alpha, and no one to believe his lies. The rot had set in.

The Swiss police arrived within thirty minutes. Chloe stood on the terrace of Gideon's villa, watching the convoy of black vehicles wind their way up the mountain road. The setting sun had fully disappeared now, leaving behind a sky painted in deep purples and blues. The first stars were beginning to appear, tiny pinpricks of light in the vast darkness. The air was cold and crisp, carrying the scent of pine and distant snow. It was beautiful, peaceful—the kind of night that made you forget, even for a moment, the horrors that had led you here.