I Can See Light Tangled Novels & Stories

And Ainara, trembling yet resolute, gave in to the love she had tried so hard to deny. ** The morning light filtered softly through Ainara’s bedroom curtains. Andres stirred, his arm draped across Ainara’s waist, the sheet barely covering their bodies. For a fleeting moment, everything felt quiet, intimate — as if the world outside didn’t exist. But then the door creaked open. “Ai—” Celia’s voice froze mid-syllable. Standing at the doorway was Celia, her eyes wide, her hand trembling against the frame. Behind her, Jaime appeared, his expression hardening as he took in the sight before him: Andres and Ainara tangled together, half-hidden under the sheet.

My door was already open. Emberlyn hunched over a cauldron of silver liquid, bubbling with the viscosity of something not quite chemical, not quite alive. Cornrow braids glowing faintly. Bioluminescent strands sparking static. Glasses fogged with steam, lenses opaque. The look of someone who'd gone blind from staring too long at what shouldn't be seen.

Turns out people don’t enjoy it when the bad things they comfortably do to others are done to them. Tom had them make a stop at a supermarket where they bought her some shades and a wig, a hut to disguise her looks and some lipstick that had her lips red like pepper. Then for reasons only known to him they parked at Starbucks and proceeded the rest of the way on foot with Elsie a couple of meters in front of him. No one would have noticed they were together. There was a chance the person they were meeting was already there even though Tom had made a thorough check.

Because he is patient He is kind He does not envy He is... VIƬƬӨЯIӨ ƧƬΛПZӨᄂIӨ Past- July 22nd, 2032 Johnny, Jessie, and I all entered The Blazing Lights. The Blazing Lights is one of the biggest clubs there is on the earth. So, it was going to be more fun than all the other times we went out clubbing. The first thing I see once entering the club is the sweating bodies dancing to loud, bass-filled music. The bright, blinding, strobe lights illuminate the otherwise pitch-black club. I guess that’s why they call it The Blazing Lights.

To all of my amazing readers, I want to send out my deepest gratitude for all of your support with “Tangled Secrets – Taming Mr. Vittori” as well as my other books that you have supported. I always enjoy reading your comments, suggestions, and views on these stories. It helps to shape the story, one way or another.

Her head was spinning with contradictory feelings: rage, hopelessness, guilt, and a great loss. She couldn't stay somewhere she wasn't wanted, but she couldn't stand the thought of leaving her family. But perhaps everyone would benefit from leaving, she concluded. Isabella needs time to heal; I have to rebuild my life. Sharon packed a small rucksack including basics for Ethan and herself as the evening progressed. She moved gently, careful not to wake anyone. She carefully took out a small paper and pen to write the note she intended to leave behind, but it seemed so difficult; it was the toughest challenge.

"The word is liwanag-dugo. She translated it as light-blood. She said it means the light that exists before the source is visible. The light before the sun." The light before the sun. Tara looks at her hands. At the silver that has been there since before she understood what she was, since the Celestine Academy where it marked her as fascinating and threatening and difficult to categorize, since the first time she released it in a treatment room and a patient's fear dissolved not because of anything she did but because of what the light itself carried in its frequency. Her grandmother.

He said horrified. I looked around in confusion as I tried to step away but I was trapped in the center of it. The red light was suffocating, thick and heavy. I felt a sudden, agonizing pull in my chest, a phantom tether that felt like a barbed wire dragging me backward toward a place I no longer wanted to go. My vision blurred and I could see Cade’s face in the flames, it was hazy, desperate, and filled with a terrifying madness.

"What's so mysterious?" I reached out and lifted the lid. Nestled inside was an exquisite suit. Under the sunlight streaming through the windows, every thread shimmered with an ever-shifting rainbow of colors, and countless micro-diamonds were meticulously embedded into every seam and detail. My breath caught in my throat. I had genuinely believed that the billion-dollar custom tuxedo I had commissioned was the pinnacle of luxury and elegance, but compared to the masterpiece before me, it suddenly looked dull and utterly outclassed.

Lucas moves to his desk—Italian hardwood, custom-built, impenetrable as the armor he's wrapped around himself—and opens the bottom drawer with deliberate slowness. Inside is a copy of her book. The Tangled Truth. Dog-eared. Marked. Memorized. The cover creased from countless readings, spine weakened from being opened to the same passages night after night. Her words, her voice, her mind—captured in ink while she herself remained a ghost. He picks it up, runs his thumb over the spine, and breathes deeply, inhaling the faint scent of paper and binding glue as if it might somehow contain molecules of her essence.