Glimwood Tangle Novels & Stories

His hesitantly brings his fingers to my tattoo, his touch ghosting over my skin. I scrutinize the tattooed letters on his fingers. A, M, L, R, O. They don't spell anything but here I am, telling myself that they probably stand for something. He's barely touching me but my entire body is on fire, I want his touch so bad it hurts my chest. I feel like I'm trapped in a small box and I can't breathe or move or think. Our eyes lock and I realize that we're both panting, chests heaving, fucking electrifying.

It was happening at fairytale speed. For some reason, I was sure I had found the replacement for Troy. But that would be too quick an assumption for me to make. It was hard not to see all of the potential. After a while, I replied like I wasn't into the whole thing myself. “I will give you a try…” “Alright then…” Dylan struggled to hide his excitement at that point. I was almost bursting into laughter as the so-called mystery guy was on the verge of blushing uncontrollably. “But before anything, I'm going to state the rules…”

And so, I set off claymore abreast, aback Grimnr, to fell the white hart of artistry. Jarnja took to the skies, and we set about our destiny. The God's Woods were thick fir, birch, and hemlock and yew, copses of trees weaving about like lover's embraces as I rode the gallows horse's thick fetlocks in search of the elusive white hart. I had a pack of bow and arrows borrowed from Felice, and as Grimnr cantered along, his hooves like a thundering melody, a great rain began to fall.

The most important step was using gel to draw two streaks of tears along the Ghost Bride's lower eyelids, then delicately applying gold leaf over them. The streaks looked like falling tears, yet shimmered like a dazzling galaxy, giving her a noble, mysterious air. The Ghost Bride studied her reflection in the mirror. As she turned, the gold leaf caught the light, sparkling like countless tiny stars. Her face hidden beneath the white cloth only heightened her enigmatic charm, making her all the more captivating.

A stream meandered before us, glowing faintly in the moonlight. It wasn’t ordinary water, it shimmered like liquid silver, catching the glow from lanterns I had arranged along its banks. The surface sparkled, tiny ripples reflecting in a thousand soft glints, and the gentle burble of the water sounded like music, soothing and hypnotic all at once. “Oh… Adrian…” she whispered, taking a step closer, the soft crunch of grass under her feet barely audible. I stepped closer, my gaze locked on her, letting the magic of the stream hang in the air between us. “Nicole,” I began, every word deliberate. “I brought you here because I wanted you to see something… something as extraordinary as you are.”

Her hands trembled once more — harder this time. Not from fear. From the reminder that this was real. She crossed the room and finally opened the paper bag. Plain sandwich. Unwrapped. Untouched. She ate half. Saved the rest. ___________ Alex Night returned. It felt different than the one before. Now there was direction. Alex stood over a digital map illuminated in red markers. Three warehouse candidates. All within industrial zoning. All recently powered. All owned by ghost entities. “Split teams,” he said. Sebastian frowned. “You don’t know which one.”

Chiara covered her mouth with both hands, and Liam grinned slyly. From afar, a pair of black eyes smirked maliciously and eloped to the forests.

Her chin was tucked, her shoulders were slumping in her perfect porcelain disguise, but through the dark curls of her hair, her eyes met his—wide, awake, and burning with a terrifying, shared brilliance. The empire was bleeding, the vanguard was turning on itself, and the Ghost was finally holding the knife.

I threw one last punch at his face, making him fall to the ground. But I wasn’t done yet. I would break all his body parts that touched me. ‘Get me the silver rod.’ I ordered Gwen through the mind link and watched him try to get back on his feet. It looked like his wolf wasn’t healing him. Not my concern, though. Gwen was back with the silver rod, whose whole handle was made of wood. "Mo…"

Jaxx's Point Of View Graham's body jerked beneath my knee like an eel caught on a line, thrashing with diminishing strength. The gravel beneath his face transformed into muddy, dark porridge… a mixture of dirt and blood spreading across the white stones. His fingers clawed desperately at the ground until his nails split, leaving crimson trails in their wake.