Days Grace Never Too Late Novels & Stories

"You'll disappear if you keep giving your food away." The voice came from behind me. I turned. A woman with silver threaded through her dark hair stood there, a staff badge pinned neatly to her sweater, Gloria. She wasn't smiling, but she didn't look unkind either. "I wasn't hungry." She looked at the untouched egg. "You've been here four days." "I know." "That's the limit." "I know that too." "So what's the plan?" The question caught me off guard. I'd spent every day thinking about surviving until tomorrow. I hadn't thought beyond that.

The pain extended all the way down to my heart. When the ashes were finally taken out and put into an urn, the last shaky walls in my heart finally collapsed. Tears flowed down my face continuously. I realized that I finally had absolutely nothing left. I used to have a husband who loved me. I used to have a baby in my stomach whom I loved. But now, even the future I looked forward to together had gone up in flames. On the way home from the hospital, I saw a massive billboard advertisement for Nolan Group. The two people modeling the jewelry looked absolutely perfect together. They looked like they were made for each other.

I wonder if Mayson remembers what the thirty-first of May is significant for. Eight years ago it was a Saturday night, one week before graduation. God has smiled down at me because it is on a Saturday night this year. I proposed eight years ago and I am going to propose again. I have only a few days to get all of my plans together. Mayson is at an alumni meeting in Arkansas so I have time to plan. My first stop is going to be her Mom and Dad’s house. Her mom had one special thing I needed for that night.

"You know Leticia. She wants you to beg her to come back because of that photo." "Shut up, Angelina," I said under my breath. My tone made her shrink back. I took out my phone. Still nothing. [I will be waiting at the chapel at ten.] The message sat there alone, read and unanswered. At one in the afternoon, my father came forward, disappointment carved into his face. "James. It is time. If your fiancee is not coming, we have to dismiss the guests. This is an embarrassment to the family." "She is coming!" I snapped.

"Mom, Dad said he's taking me reindeer hunting. I don't want to go back." "But I miss you. Don't you miss me?" "No!" he answered without hesitation. I coaxed him, saying, "Have fun, then. I'll wait for you at home." "I'm not going back tonight. Daddy said he'll take me to the grasslands tonight. We're going to watch the stars together." I hung up the phone in silence. Finally, I sighed, picked up my suitcase, and left. Very well. This pack had nothing holding me back. To outsiders, I was Alpha James' mate and the Luna. Although we had a grand ceremony, we were not truly mates because James had never marked me.

I can remember when she texted me in the middle of hell, saying “If you can’t change your story, change your lipstick.” I sighed, taking another slow bite. Maybe she was right. For the first time in weeks, I actually felt… calm. Then, like fate couldn’t stand peace for more than ten seconds, my phone buzzed. Grace. Grace: Tell me you’ve tasted it. I grinned. Me: I’m halfway through one. I think I just saw heaven. Grace: I told you. Douceur heals trauma. One bite at a time. Me: I might sue you for emotional damage if I finish this box.

Like everything about Grace is on this thing. My bedroom door opens and in walks Grace. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. “Good morning…” she smiles brightly. I check the time, it’s eight thirty. ============= Damien Priest POV Today was a fucking shitshow. I’m laying in bed right now dreading having to get out of it. Not for the reason you think though. No this is a lot deeper than one would think. It’s a shitshow because the media is here for the big day. Why the fuck my mother thought this was a good idea is out of this world.

Looking Ahead The early morning sun filtered through the window of the cozy family home, casting a warm and gentle light over the peaceful scene in the living room. Estonia and Travis had always cherished these quiet moments, a brief respite from their bustling lives. Today was no exception, as they prepared to celebrate another special milestone—Grace’s first birthday had just passed, and their little family was basking in the afterglow of the joyful celebration.

I click on the notification and the screen instantly opens up to the chat box. Grace: Going out to night, your coming. It was an order and not a question. As if I'd deny the opportunity to leave this house. Me: Bitch yeah. What time you coming to pick me up? She replies instantly. Grace: At around seven. I'll do my hair and makeup from there. So approximately I'll be there by six and by seven will be off. I have four hours to go so I have lots of time to prepare. Me: Sounds like a date. Where are we going?

Marrine Child showed up on the steps of a tiny church, wrapped in blankets and left out in a raging storm. The nuns and Father Thompson took her in, raising her in the quiet seaside town of Port Haven. On the surface, she seemed like any other orphan—just a bit out of place, maybe. But there was more to Marrine. Her father was the King of the Deep, a powerful sea ruler set on taking her back, no matter the cost. She grew up under the watchful eyes of the church, soaking in the faith and warmth of her caretakers. As she got older, Marrine’s beauty stood out—though not nearly as much as her bond with Zeke Thompson, the priest’s son. The two of them grew up together, turning a childhood frie