Novel & Cerita Edge Of Never

I set off at once, because punctuality is one of the few forms of respect we are permitted to claim. The corridor I took was not the grand one, with the tall banners and shining windows. It was the service passage, narrow and dim, the sort of place built for bodies to move through quickly without being noticed. The stones there held the chill longer than elsewhere, and the air smelled faintly of damp, like old rain caught in mortar. I had nearly reached the bend when I felt it — the sudden sense of presence behind me, as if the corridor itself had taken a breath. “Edith.”

I was suffering from a leg cramp, so Evan Blackwood, the college guy who was with me, blushed as he gently massaged my leg to ease the pain. A shadow shot past before anyone could react, slamming into him and sending him sprawling onto the ground. "Who gave you permission to touch her?" Lawrence's face was calm, but his voice was low and sharp. He was radiating an unmistakable aura of danger. I stepped in front of Evan, shielding him with my body.

Screamed about dragging me through the streets. Someone shoved me hard. I stumbled— And strong arms caught me. "Serena!" Nathan's voice, right by my ear. At the same time, Bradley showed up again—with security. Someone screamed, "She's bleeding! She's actually pregnant!"

A few years later, at a Bluemoon Group press conference, the acting CEO declared that the company would now fall under the permanent authority of the Elder Council. Ryder, the once untouchable Alpha, surrendered every title he bore, then slipped from the world as if erased. The media erupted with speculation. Some said he'd gone mad, others swore he was already dead, and a few claimed he'd gone into seclusion in some far-off place. Yet in the quiet coastal town of Norvane, locals now and then caught sight of a tall, solitary figure.

She reached the edge of a rebuilt market sector just after dusk. Wind off the upper rails. Neon flickers above glass vendors. And then a ping. Low. Private. Encrypted. Not Council code. Not Aeris. Not Nova. Riven. She stared at it for a moment. Didn’t touch it. Then finally tapped it open. RIVEN GRAY: “I was wrong.” She blinked. Waited. Another message came seconds later. “Not about the danger. About who carried it better than we deserved.” Eden stood still, reading the second line three times.

He turned and left without another look back. Ivory waited for him through the night, but he never came back. The iciness of the water seeped into her bones, yet the aphrodisiac was still eating away at her from inside. She felt like countless ants were gnawing at her body. The water's iciness couldn't get rid of the heat inside her—it could only temporarily keep her lucid. She was burning inside, yet she was freezing on the outside. She was trapped between fire and ice.

And if I really was the child she'd been searching for all these years, how could she handle knowing both her daughters were dead? I shook my head and stepped back, retreating into my own grief. My gaze shifted to my mom, her eyes cold and calculating. No. I couldn't call her "Mom" anymore. She was Gianna Beech. Anger surged through me, and before I could stop myself, I charged at Gianna, my fist swinging toward her head. But it went straight through her. I froze, staring at my ghostly hand. A bitter smile crept onto my lips. Right. I was dead. Even with the truth burning in my chest, I couldn't do a thing to her. Of course. Evil people always seem to live forever.

"Come on. It's been years, and I've never really taken a decent picture of you." He was persistent. If I said no, it might raise suspicions. So, I edged closer to the cliff, anchoring my feet firmly in the rock crevices. Brandon hovered nearby, phone in hand, pretending to focus on getting the perfect shot. "This angle's all wrong, babe. Step back a little, will you?" Did he think I was born yesterday? A step back was a one-way ticket over the edge. "How about you step back?" He clenched his jaw and crouched, feigning a few more shots.

The edgy contact excites me. I wonder what he's doing right now, who he's with. Is he thinking about me? I move the blade to the center part of my hand now making small cuts there. I welcome the pleasure in the pain it brings. It's different from the emotional pain that I've now gotten used to. It makes me feel not so numb anymore. I do this for a while longer before I hear my dad shout, "Sweetheart," from downstairs. I quickly hide the blade under my pillow and then rush to my bathroom to wash off the blood. There's so much of it that I'm shocked at myself. This is the most I've done. Maybe I should stop before...

ELENA'S POV This is fine. Totally fine. I’m literally the definition of fine. I stood at the edge of the crowded hotel ballroom like a loser, clutching a vodka cranberry I didn’t even want, watching Noah get worshipped like some kind of basketball god. The party was loud and chaotic and smelled like victory, Axe body spray, and bad decisions. Everyone was celebrating the team’s huge win tonight, but my eyes kept betraying me by locking onto H.I.M.