If You Come Softly Audiobook Novels & Stories

He was looking at me intently too. How in the world would Alpha Kayden have spoken so softly? This was just totally unbelievable! If someone else had told me about this, I would never have believed it but no! I just heard that incredibly soft voice from him with my very own ears or did my ears malfunction and transform his harsh voice into a soft one before getting to my brain? I heard him clear his throat slightly as I looked back to the floor. "Mantha, speak up" his voice came, this time impatient and quite harsh and I breathed out in relief.

I stood slowly, bracing myself. I expected anger. I expected shouting. I expected him to grab me and throw me against a wall like Aaron used to. My fists clenched hard. “I—” I began to speak, ready for whatever came. But his voice cut through my fear. Soft. Weak. Barely above a whisper. “Are you okay?” My fists loosened instantly. My entire body softened. My heart stilled. I looked into his eyes, searching for anger, searching for violence… searching for anything that looked like Aaron.

She's probably just waiting for me to go over and coax her. [Actually, it's nice and quiet this way. [Maybe she read one of those self-help books about "healthy distance in relationships"? Whatever.] I caught a sense of relief hidden between the fleeting thoughts. Fine. If peace and quiet were what he wanted, that was exactly what I would give him. On Wednesday evening, Genevieve visited again, but this time, she didn't come alone. She brought Danika with her. "Danika mentioned she's been craving your honey-glazed ribs," Genevieve enthusiastically announced as she stepped through the door. "So I thought… Why not have her join us for dinner?"

We went downstairs together, and the morning organized itself around us in the ordinary way, and Sofia moved through it with a quality I had been watching develop over the months and now saw clearly — the quality of someone who had fully returned. Not to who she had been before — that person was gone, and the Sofia who had come back was someone else entirely, shaped by absence and return in ways the original couldn't have been. But returned to herself. To the full occupation of her own life, her own body, her own choices. It was, I thought, the most beautiful thing I had watched happen in this house. And this house had contained extraordinary things. By the end of the first week there were f

I watched as his small chest rose and fell with each breath, his face relaxed and peaceful. I reached out and gently stroked his hair, a familiar gesture that always seemed to soothe him. The rhythmic hum of the engine, the gentle rocking of the plane, and the soft warmth of my son's presence lulled me into a state of drowsiness. Before I knew it, I too had drifted off to sleep. The gentle sway of the plane and the soft murmur of voices around me created a comforting cocoon. I was awakened by a gentle voice calling my name. It was Laura.

I shifted in my seat, attempting to forget what just happened and to calm myself down. The ride was silent afterward. I watched as we traveled through forests and forests, I couldn’t help but wonder what life would be like in a new pack, could I escape from this fate, or if I really deserved a mate after all that had happened. I soon felt a bit sleepy. Although I tried staying awake because I didn’t want to fall asleep when I was with a stranger. Sleep finally took over me, and I dozed off once again. And this time, it’s not a pleasant one.

Am I the only one who can't deal with a hard copy of a book, I seriously prefer my phone! I couldn't fully concentrate on the book I was reading, Wood is a serious pain in the fucking ass! I know I already told Ant everything Wood said to me but I just can't help feeling as if there's so much more I don't know and it will bite us in the ass if we aren't careful. A soft but dominating knock on the door whips me out of my thoughts, "Can I come in?" He asked lowly but his voice was well heard and deep "U-uhm yeah. Come in." I stuttered, why am I stuttering

I had taped it there yesterday morning, right before the Dowager arrived, hoping to catch a stray comment, a whisper of weakness. Instead, I caught a death sentence. I plug the cheap earbuds into the jack. I press play. Hiss. Crackle. The audio is grainy. The microphone rubbed against the wood of the sideboard. Then, a voice cuts through the static. Clear. Cold. Crystalline. "Is it done?" Sofia Greco. There is a pause. A man’s voice, muffled. "The driver is secured. He understands the change in itinerary."

Deeper. She made a soft sound against my lips. Her hands moved to my shoulders. She pulled me closer. I felt her tongue against my lips. I opened my mouth. She slid inside. The taste of her was intoxicating. Sweet. Warm. Real. We kissed for a long time. Slow and deep. Her hands moved down my back. I felt her fingers through my dress. They were warm. They were gentle. I touched her face. Her skin was soft. I touched her hair. It was soft too. Everything about her was soft. I had spent my life being hard. Being sharp. Being cold. Now I was learning soft.

she softly whispered. There was no response. The footsteps came closer and her scar blazed fiercely. And then—just before the shadow reached the doorway— She heard his voice again. It sounded soft and cruel. “You invited me in.” Then, the lights went out.