Dead Calm Novel Novels & Stories

Amari POV: Bored I walked into the dusty room and I did some cleaning up. Got rid of the cobwebs and opened the curtains to try to brighten up the place Tracing my fingers over all the books on the shelf one falls onto the floor landing on my feet and I jump back a little. Picking up the book it says Album. Aww this must have all his baby pictures Opening it I'm met with a picture of a girl. My heart stops. Underneath the picture, it reads Amanda Calvenski. Cause of death Untreated cancer.

She always escaped early, always found somewhere to be that wasn’t there, with me. On my desk sat my journal. A page was open. I didn’t remember opening it the night before. I didn’t remember writing. But there it was: a page filled edge to edge with handwriting, my handwriting, except not, slanted, urgent, like someone drew words with trembling hands. “The dead don’t sleep. They are the light. They whisper. They remember what the living try to forget.” I slammed the journal shut. And for a long moment, I couldn’t breathe.

I feel so tired. I watch the ice crawl slowly towards my leg like delicate spider webs but I don’t have the energy to move a muscle, not even when the ice starts working its way over me. I know it’s gotten bad when I start to feel warm. I read a book once titled ‘The Cold Death’ and it was about people that were condemned to die in ice. They always felt warm right before they died and I wonder if that’s what’s happening to me now, my body offering me one last comfort before it gives up on me completely. My lashes flutter closed and as ice flakes appear on them, my last thought is that Alpha Kael was wrong. My wolf is either very broken or she doesn’t give a damn about my death.

I held my mother’s cold hand and sat dazed on the floor, silent for a long time. The procedures that followed became a blur. Returning to our hometown. Cremation. The funeral. Everything felt like it was happening inside a dream. I went through every step mechanically, my insides terrifyingly hollow. In the end, I sat alone in a plain funeral parlor. It was empty all around me. Not a single person came to pay their respects. After all, the Falcone family had already sent word. Anyone who dared attend the funeral of Sofia Rossi’s mother would be declaring war on the Falcone family, on the entire Boston underworld.

Richard looked at me and cursed. "You both fucked up bad, Death is back and I suggest you fucking run," he yelled and ran back to his bedroom. I closed my eyes as the heartache consumed me and strode out the deck doors, heading out towards the beach. I ignored the yelling from Miguel. I only briefly saw him stand and that little prick falling to the floor. My darkness was expanding and twirling around me. A tall polynesian man threw a burlap tarp over me and said not to fight him, that he was Death's caretaker and would take me somewhere safe. Very well, I growled and allowed myself to be carried away. I felt the wood beneath my bare feet and the movement of the water further underneath. I w

The chaos outside seemed to fade momentarily as they entered the principal's room, a deceptive calm settling within the confined space. The principal, nervous but compliant, opened the door, revealing an empty room. He gestured for Liam to enter, and with a smirk, Liam walked towards the door. But in the blink of an eye, the atmosphere shifted once again. As Liam reached out to twist the doorknob, he felt a sudden touch behind his head. Without hesitation, he reacted, swiftly turning around and firing his weapon. The bullet found its mark, hitting Lane in the chest. Lane, who had been pushed forward by Adam, crumpled to the ground, life extinguished in an instant.

“Only I am allowed to kill him. Not you. Not anyone else. That privilege belongs to me alone.” He made a broken, wet sound that might have been another plea. I didn’t wait for it to form into words. I drew the knife I kept for moments that required a cleaner end and opened his throat in one deep, controlled cut. The body jerked once and then went still, blood pouring in a thick, steady rush down the chest and pooling beneath the chair. I cleaned the blade, closed the case, and walked back up the stairs. My men were waiting outside in the dark. I met the nearest one’s eyes and gave a short nod.

Marco instructs Vinny as they make their way to the limousine, leaving behind a scene of pain and menace in the secluded barn. ELENA Home, the place where I seek solace and a sanctuary from my life’s chaos. The comforting routine is disrupted when a text notification chimes on my phone. At this late hour. “definitely Sarah sending some random meme or another”. I mumble. After finishing up with my bed, I check the message, only to be met with a gasp escaping my lips. It's not Sarah. An unknown contact, yet the content is unmistakable – a picture of a battered Daren accompanied by a chilling message:

He had a way of making decisions without ever needing to speak them aloud, as if he could sense the right path before it even appeared. I nodded, gripping the edge of my seat as the vehicle bounced over uneven terrain. The tension in the air was palpable. I knew we were walking into a hot zone, and I didn’t know how bad it was going to be. I wasn’t used to seeing people—human beings—turn into mindless, rotting monsters, but in this new world, that’s exactly what I had to witness every day. It was hard not to feel like we were losing something with every encounter.

There will be scenes of BDSM dynamic between our Male Lead and Female Lead, so if you aren't into kink or it makes you uncomfortable, please do not read any further. I hope that you enjoy Alpha of the Dead. --Sydney