Grey Ones Novels & Stories

"And we see what they want." The two of them moved forward, sticking to the trees and keeping their distance from the group of rebels. As they neared a clearing, Lia spotted them—a group of wolves, their faces weathered and scarred, their eyes sharp with suspicion. They weren’t purebloods. They were Greykin, like her. One of them stepped forward, a woman with silver hair and a black cloak that blended seamlessly into the shadows. Her eyes, like Cassian’s, glowed with a fierce intensity, and she immediately assessed them, her gaze flicking from Lia to Cassian.

All the Grey's eyes focused on him. ****🙄🙄****

The white lights, lingering above, glared through dirty glass of their bulbs, flooding the grey single tables, the grey food, and the grey floor below awash, seemingly revealing all. The spoons were grey, the plates were grey, and the chairs were grey. Everything was grey. The engineer's eyes were grey, his standard issue shirt and trousers were grey, and a few grey hairs sat in the overgrown ,bushy ginger cloud which lay atop his head. His sallow skin, once tanned and always flushing red, now held a grey hue. The bags under his eyes, however, were a staunch black.

I tracked him across the floor, but before I could go to him, another presence claimed the room. Neil. He strode onto the stage seemingly more his true self. His eyes were still under an illusion, but they weren't the standard color. They were grey. I knew now from having talked to him about quite a few things, that Gray was actually his natural eye color. And because it was such an unnatural color among werewolves, he had a glamor for it. He was polished for the eyes of every witch and werewolf, making his mixed heritage known plainly. His suit was deep midnight, dotted with rubies in the style of witches, his tie silver, and the combination made him look every bit the keynote speaker for t

“You showed it to Tristan.” I froze. That was true but she hadn’t been there. Only he had seen it and me. “No one else knows about the color,” she continued, almost absentmindedly. My pulse began to rise. “The color?” I repeated carefully. She nodded. “Yeah. It’s Grey.” The word hit me harder than it should have. Grey. It was not white, not normal, it was grey. My throat went dry. “Wait,” I said slowly. “How do you know it was grey?”

Orathe's POV Gray and I stood in a depression deep within the Dark Forest, gazing at the scattered white bones exposed at the bottom of the pit. In the dim night, they emitted a chilling aura. Gray remained silent, while I offered a nearly imperceptible smile at the sight of the skull. "Mom, he..." Gray finally spoke, his voice a whisper.

Grey said his voice faltering, "I hated it! I hated the idea of you happy bring happy with him again but when I came to pick you up, it was also the same day that I got the news that I can't be cured anymore. That my life already is nearing to an end, and no matter how selfish I was, I didn't have the courage to see you plunge into misery with me," Grey stopped walking, they were now in the quadrangle, the night sky entering their line of sight, and the sound of the crickets getting louder and louder, accompanied by the cold breeze of the night.

Flashback continuation! I tense! Like really tense, but I still find the bravery to spin around in a sprint. Before me racks a giant in human form. His machismo freaks the hell out of me. It would appall anyone. And his eyes... Grey eyes? Really? I don't know whether it is their striking grey color that makes them come off so atrociously appalling, but they are a set of pools that I can't stand even for a second. I blink at them. His lanky gigantic contour is an additional peril to me. His whole composure exudes dreadful terror. Horror. Animosity.

“You’re calling the cops?” “No, I’m calling an ambulance. You said there are children. They need medical attention, we can report the accident later. Write down your details, please.” He handed me a black notebook. The front is embossed with gold lettering. Greyson Elliot. Slack-jawed, I glanced at the notebook, then cast my gaze over the God before me. It can’t be? It’s not possible. He has Greyson’s eyes but nothing else. Greyson Elliot is a scrawny, acne-ridden geek and dirt poor. And I haven’t laid eyes on him in a decade.