Four Or Dead Free Novel Novels & Stories

He could sense a fourth one around, but already, he knew that it was the fledgling, Yodah - was still one till he turned eighty. Inside the library, Freya felt fear slam into her, the emotion beating in her head, swamping her, driving out the heavy, trancelike cobwebs. Someone was distraught, crying, feeling pain as sharp as a knife. She staggered to her feet, clutched at the back of a chair. Images pushed in. A young woman with pale, white skin, a large stake protruding from her chest, blood running in rivers, her head detached from her body, something sickening placed in her mouth. A ritual killing, symbolic, a warning of others to come. A serial killer, here, in this land of peace.

Like someone dying horribly. He doesn’t want to know; he’s gone and I’m sure I’ll die END OF BOOK 1 ------------------------------------------

The not-dead girl turned this way and that, the ropes binding her scraping the skin and digging into the flesh as she wrestled them from her arms, her wrists. Next to her, the second bag laid on its side. The silk moved as nails fought and fingers reached, fists punched and feet kicked. The knot strained and then unraveled. The hole at the top opened, the dead Freckles climbing free as if sliding from the womb. He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and then another. It’s not real, he said to himself. This isn’t happening. It’s stress or too much tap water or something. I just need to stop and relax. They’re dead. They’re forgotten. They need to be carried down and loaded into the SUV. D

Death shook her head. “No.” Sophia stared at the rising dead. “Why?” Death answered: “Because you gave them freedom.” A terrible realization struck Sophia. She had broken destiny. She had broken the rules. She had given everyone choice. But she had also broken the boundary between life and death. The Dead Walk Across the world cemeteries opened. Ships lost their dead sailors. Kings returned to their thrones. Ancient warriors woke. People who had been buried for centuries opened their eyes.

It tries to send the memory through her knees, her hands, her throat. Maya lets it arrive. Then she steps left. The dead follow sound and motion. They do not think. They do not plan. They do not fake low and attack high. They are patient appetite in a ruined suit. “Behind?” she whispers. Clear within twenty feet, LUS says. “Lovely.” The dead man reaches. Maya lets him commit, shifts inside the arc, hooks her foot behind his ankle, and drives the crowbar hard into the side of his knee.

Pardon me! So, you should know that you can't be too careless and let yourself get killed. You only have three lifelines. If you die thrice, you are totally dead. Your character will disappear from the novel and your soul will extinguish or get faded out. There's no heaven, hell, or reincarnation for you if you die before finishing your missions.

Congealed grease clung to my skin, and the room filled with the stench of spoiled food. I pressed my lips together and stood frozen as the filthy liquid dripped onto the floor, forming a small puddle around my feet. The ceiling light flickered, splitting and rejoining the reflections on the floor. I looked at the closed bedroom door, and grief rose inside me. I knocked. "Chloe, open the door. We need to talk." Her muffled, furious voice came from beneath the blankets. "I have nothing to say to you! All you care about is money!

My eyes widen in horror as the scene unfolds—a twisted backdrop that feels more like a dream than reality. There, in the dim light of the room, are the four men, but they are not as I had imagined. They’re not standing, not even moving. Their bodies are slumped in various positions around the room, lifeless and pale, their eyes vacant and staring at nothing. Blood pools beneath them, the rich, dark red stark against the cold floor, soaking into the expensive carpet. They are dead. They are all dead. I try to breathe, but the air is thick with the scent of iron, and my chest tightens in response. My mind struggles to comprehend the gruesome sight, the reality of what has just happened here.

How am I going to get home? “Fat bitch, do you not hear me talking to you.” I don’t respond as I wonder how the hell I’m going to get out of this book. I’ve read several novels like this, but the main character almost always dies in their world. Dread fills me; did I die in my sleep? I didn’t even get to read the last Game of Thrones novel; how could I have died? I’m young and healthy, yeah I’m relatively thick, but a little fat never hurt anyone.

Our destiny is peace, but it takes death to get there. *****This is the 4th and final book in the series and all update information is available in our group on F B GoodNovel - Marie Night- Readers https://m.goodnovel.com/book_info/31000211002/Werewolf/Alpha-Heirs?shareuser=22318084&ch=apps