Dreams Of Estora Novels & Stories

He had not turned into a wolf yet. But he knew very well that he would be fine. Another wolf came out of nowhere tried to attack from behind, so that Caesar run to him and push him away from him. Before he pounced on him, slashing his throat Estera's mind could not take it any longer, especially when Caesar's wolf turned and looked at her, as if he was trying to devour her. So her mind decided to give her a break, and take her to another world, which is the world of dreams

**Esteria** The warmth of their shared moment lingered as El-Kharis began to dress, his movements deliberate yet distant. Esteria watched him, her emotions tangled in a web of confusion and longing. She wanted to say something, anything, to bridge the growing chasm between them, but the words refused to form. Her lips parted, a silent plea hanging in the air, but he didn't notice—or perhaps chose not to.

The English Coast 1794 ‘Do you understand me, Esther? ’Mathilda asked gently. ’You must trust me, and you must never tell your father or Mary about the people speaking to you in your dreams.’ Esther smiled, her face lighting up, stirring Mathilda’s heart. Her precious baby, her daughter. Was this how her gift would awaken? By dreaming of the dead? She would never allow her to burn. ‘I understand Mother, ’she answered. ’Are you afraid they will tell Magnus?’

Nadia’s POV I reached the address and stopped along the lonely track. It was a meadow track with a running river at a few distance. The grasses smelled fresh, but smothering as if soaked with rainwater. The track extended to a few distance into a hazy building. The building looks like a silo, but I guess it’s a warehouse or something. How can he bring my baby to such a dreadful place? Suddenly, my phone beeped again, showing a private number. I whirled with the cold, unpleasant wind that surged

Linda answered on the third ring. “You sound terrible,” Linda said immediately. Estella leaned against the kitchen counter while waiting for coffee to brew. “Good morning to you too.” “I’m serious. Did you sleep at all?” “Not really.” “What happened?” Estella hesitated. Just for a second. “Just a bad dream.” Linda went quiet. That silence alone told Estella her best friend didn’t believe her. “Ella,” Linda said more softly this time. “You don’t get nightmares unless something’s bothering you.”

Mr Spielberg asked, his brows creased in curiosity. “Yes, perhaps you have an idea of whom it might be because he looked exactly like Mr Montero, but what was the girl with red hair doing at his palace?” “It's a meaningless dream. Mr Montero has no daughter, and he stays in no palace,” Mrs Spielberg stated. Charles shrugged his shoulder. He dares not tell them that the red-headed girl has been appearing in his dreams for the past few months. “Is there something else you need to tell us about the dream? You know I can't interpret a real meaning to it if you don't remember most part of it,” Mr Hensworth uttered.