Gilbert Nightray Novels & Stories

he said. Gilbert died immediately. Nicholas carried Gilbert and ran at an incredible speed to Noracia. He no longer required transportation to arrive there as he had strength to travel without tiring. The warriors in Noracia permitted him to enter. Ingrid went down the stairs with her red silky nightgown, her big eyes were sagging from not having had enough rest. Princess Ashah as well as Prince Uzriel also had their night gowns on. The princess was more active as though she was not sleeping nor was she tired, unlike her brother who was very grumpy and annoyed to have been disturbed at that late hour.

“Gerald is a b*stard! He still wants to get engaged to Reina in Royal Sights Residences! He has no heart! North, don’t worry. I’ll stand up for you. I won’t let that b*tch taint your residence!” Nate clenched his fists and cheered himself on. “I can do this! I must be brave! I must face my problems! Only the brave can fight evil! Gerald, you jerk! I’ll teach you a lesson!” Suddenly, Nate seemed to have seen something incredible, and his face turned extremely pale. “You… Aren’t you… Ah!” Nate let out a screech. “A zombie!” Why was North standing there? Wasn’t North dead? Was this her ghost? Could ghosts come out in the sunlight?

But then— pain suddenly exploded through my skull. I gasped sharply. The vision hit instantly. Blood. Fire. Hunters. Nightfang wolves screaming. Selene standing beneath silver flames. And beside her— someone wearing Nightfang colors. My eyes widened. Traitor. The vision disappeared violently. Gabriel caught me immediately. “Gina!” I grabbed his arm hard. “They’re coming.” The warmth vanished from the training grounds instantly. Gabriel’s expression darkened. “What did you see?”

Black as midnight. A phantom.

Her entire body throbbed with deep, deep exhaustion, and despite all her tactical maneuvers over the past hour, she hadn’t managed to land a single decisive blow. Nimrod was a formidable adversary, a highly decorated ex-navy officer who had spent decades mastering lethal hand-to-hand combat. His movements were calculated, efficient, and devastatingly precise. Against him was Seven—just a seventeen-year-old girl. On paper, it was a laughable matchup. What real chance did a scrawny teenage apprentice have against a seasoned military veteran who was practically built for warfare? Think, Seven! she fiercely reprimanded herself, biting the inside of her cheek until the copper taste of blood groun

The world's bluebloods and reporters were all present. William had chosen the time of sunset for his little show. When the skies were burning crimson gold, and the observation tower lit up like a brazier that shone over the city, he put his arm around Bianca and walked onto the stage. The city of Pierton unfurled behind them. While the party was reaching its peak, someone asked, "Mr. Larson, you spent more than three billion and six years on this tower, and you said it was made for your wife's sake. Why are you naming it after another woman?"

The banquet ended past midnight. Luke sat in the front passenger seat of his Rolls-Royce, pressing his index finger against his temple. He had long, artist's fingers. The glow of the streetlights cast just the right shadow over his face, making his nose bridge more prominent. He looked like a sculpture straight out of a museum. "It's late now. The curfew would already be in effect by the time you return to your dorm."

My eyes fix on a place on the wall, but I’m not seeing its dull gray surface. My mind is spinning, reeling, thinking of all the ramifications of the past twelve hours. Cyrillius knows I’m a Nero. He knows Nymiah is a Nero. Did she and Zayne and Edan get away? Are they somewhere safe? What do they all think happened to me? And…Dad…

Now, Nathan tried patting her cheeks, hoping his actions would wake Haisley from her slumber. Gilbert arrived, quickly running to the bedside. "Haisley!" Gilbert stood on the left side of the bed. "Haisley, Darling. Everything's fine. Wake up!" he pleaded with a gentler voice into Nathan's left ear. But the girl's small body seemed to be convulsing, as if trying to free herself from an invisible restraint. Her lips continued to whimper, and her breaths remained shallow.

It was the same for 1983—nothing until November. A seventeen-year-old girl named Jessica Gilbert had gone missing on November 12 of that year. The girl was an honors student, the secretary of the student council, a violin player, and the captain of her volleyball team. She had no boyfriend and only two close friends, the same ones she’d had since grade school. In other words, she was a high achiever who never even broke her parents’ curfew and therefore was unlikely to be a runaway. The girl was last seen wearing a red plaid flannel nightgown climbing the stairs to her own bedroom after kissing her parents good night.