Hopes Peak Book Novels & Stories

“Long time, no see.” Hope bloomed, but he tamped it down, knowing it was irrational. Jessie had made herself perfectly clear more than once. She was through with him. Forever. That day a week ago hadn’t meant anything, except that she had needed someone to reach out to and he happened to be the only warm body around. He had destroyed their relationship with his inability to let go of the past. He could only thank God that Dalia hadn’t been involved. “What do you want?” he bit off, wincing inwardly at how harsh his voice sounded.

Seraphina and Aurora, eleven, spent hours cross-referencing old files, their voices carrying fragments of conversations they weren’t supposed to overhear. Hope, six years old, had become the quiet axis around which everything turned. Her small footsteps approached now, light on the metal grating, the faint scent of lavender shampoo and berry juice trailing her like a shadow. “Mom,” Hope said, her voice soft but carrying an unnatural clarity. She slipped her warm, slightly sticky hand into Mia’s. “The voices are showing me the new ones again. Twenty of them. They’re cold. Waiting. They say I’m the one who can wake them up.”

Her eyes were the first thing Aren noticed. Not the pals. Not her appearance. It's the loneliness in it. A loneliness that survived decades. Clara looked at the notebook in his hands. Almost awesome. “I thought it was gone.” Her voice was quiet. Like she's not talking often. “We found it.” Aren held the book a little higher. The girl nodded. Then she smiled carefully. And in this smile there was something that broke all the heart. Hope. A hope that had waited too long. “How long are you here?”

She stood in front of the circle, cleared her throat, and opened the book. Her eyes scanned the first paragraph. She took a breath. And then she read. “There’s a photo somewhere of a woman I never met, holding a child I never knew I was. She’s not smiling. But she’s not afraid, either. I like to think that’s what hope looks like when it doesn’t need to shout.” The room was silent. Not because they didn’t understand — but because they did. River – POV They stayed home that night, waiting by the phone with a cup of chamomile in hand and the window cracked open.

Hope thought to herself. Hope was the happiest on the table seeing that Liliana and Daniel aren’t looking each other in the eyes. “This is my opportunity to start chaos” Hope thought to herself. “Daniel, I don't think your wife is aware of the rules in this house because I expect her to know that there are some things that have been existing in this house way before you both got married,” Hope said, trying to stir up the whole issue.

Looking at my reflection in the elevator doors, I replied, "Let's leave it to fate." As the elevator doors opened, Miles and Nora were standing there, chatting intimately. The moment Miles saw me with Carter, his expression darkened instantly. "Leilani Jabs, are you so desperate for a man that you're talking about 'fate' with someone younger?" I simply smiled faintly at him, unwilling to respond. Carter cleared his throat. "Uncle Miles, you misunderstood Leilani. Don't you have someone else now anyway?" Nora's lips curled into a satisfied smile. Then, Miles took a deliberate step away from Nora in response, his expression unchanged. Nora's smile quickly faltered.

the girl said with a hint of urgency, hoping to dispel any confusion. Hope was a dangerous thing, she thought to herself. It had the power to lift her up to the highest of heights, only to come crashing down with a force that could break her. She couldn't allow herself to hope. It was better to stay grounded and keep her expectations low. But despite her best efforts, a small spark of hope flickered within her, threatening to ignite into a flame that could consume her. Her heart was guarded, shielded from any potential pain. She had been hurt before, and the memory of that pain lingered like a shadow over her every move.

“What’s the most surprising thing you learned about yourself while writing this book?” Hope answered without pause. “That I don’t need to be everything for everyone to be enough.” The crowd hummed with recognition. “And what’s your hope for this book in the hands of young women?” Hope smiled. “That they feel less alone.” Back at the Turner estate that night, the house was full. Music hummed from the kitchen. Children’s laughter echoed through the hallways. Signed copies of the book lined the living room table. Cassie found Hope alone in the garden, barefoot, wine glass in hand.

"I know. Which is why I'm taking a week now. You, Dante, Lux, and the Council can handle things. I trust you. I need to trust you more." "What are you going to do?" "I have no idea. That's the point." Hope spends the first day of her break sleeping until noon, eating breakfast at two p.m., and reading a novel that has nothing to do with pack politics or consciousness magic. It's fantasy—a story about a girl who discovers she's secretly a dragon. It's ridiculous and escapist and exactly what Hope needs. The second day, she accepts an invitation to a party thrown by one of the academy students—a genuine teenage party with music, dancing, and no political agendas.

She clawed at her throat, gasping for air. "I honestly prefer you don't, that would be too boring. That fire in your eyes, that rebellious spirit ... that is what drew me to you. Pray to God to protect you, try and shield your friends. I want you to rebel against me. I want you to keep hope alive and dream of a day when this collar with be broken. Hope is the belief that things will change, that even the most horrible situation will come to an end. People cling to hope because they have no choice but to believe that they can outlast their Hell or that something will happen to change all the rules of the game. But every time the sun rises on their bleak world, every time they feel the strike