In These Silent Days Dramione Novels & Stories

Lucienne, Daughter of the late Alpha Uriel, now powerless and without dignity. “What more is there for me? What do I need freedom for now? Why not let me join them?” I cried as I sat there on the cold ground, the weight of my despair pressing down on me like a heavy shroud. I felt utterly defeated. What more could the Moon Goddess possibly want me to face now? “LUCIENNE! GET BACK HERE! I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU!” Daniel's voice filled my ears and I immediately rushed to my feet. I'd rather die than let him touch me again.

He growled, "I'm gonna kill you today." Aria's heart lurched in her chest at the sound of her mate's voice. "Let's get out of here, Jake." "Move away, baby." Jake said without looking at Aria as he sprung forward to answer Noah's aggression. The guys were a fist-breath away from getting to each other's neck when they heard Aria grasp for air. "Aria!" Daisy cried in fright as her best friend prostrated at her feet. Aria was on the floor holding her chest as they spun to look at her. Her eyes were out and watery, skin wheatish yellow and body trembling wildly as if her soul was twisting and turning inside her in the effect of evil possession.

“Jarek. Nysa. Bram.” The silence that followed was deadly. Dain’s expression turned savage. “Bram?” Ronan didn’t react outwardly. But Lyra felt it. A crack through the bond. Not pain. Something colder. Ronan stared at Silas for a long moment, then spoke quietly, voice stripped of warmth. “I will make them speak.”

With that silent vow burning in his heart, Dorian turned and walked away, his shadow stretching long and cold beneath the hospital’s pale lights. --- Serena lay quietly in her bedroom at Le Châteauesque Manor, the grand estate shrouded in silence except for the faint ticking of an antique clock on the wall. Her body felt utterly drained — not just from physical exhaustion, but from the emotional toll of the past few days.

“And please… don’t cry anymore.” “I won’t,” she whispered. Before leaving, Johnson glanced toward Simon across the room. He offered a small, friendly wave. Simon didn’t respond—didn’t even look. Johnson smirked faintly and shook his head, then turned and walked out. Outside, Damon leaned casually against the car, arms crossed. Johnson slid in beside him, the city lights reflecting in both of their eyes. And for a moment, silence said more than any words ever could. The hospital room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the night lights. The steady beeping of the monitors was the only sound breaking the silence. Chelle stirred slightly in her bed, eyelids fluttering as the fog of unconscious

“Grief makes people push away what they need.” He didn’t respond. She took his silence as encouragement. “You don’t have to be alone anymore,” she continued. “I’ve always understood your world. Your responsibilities. Your darkness.” Damian’s jaw tightened, almost imperceptibly. “You’ve always liked my darkness,” he said. She smiled. “Because I’m not afraid of it.” That earned her another glance. Longer this time. “I don’t need someone who isn’t afraid,” Damian said quietly. “I need someone who knows when to stay silent.”

That was the dynamic they had forged in secret, night after night. But instead, Sierra lifted her chin, summoning a strength she didn’t know she had. “Yes.” Her voice cracked, but the word rang like a strike of lightning. “No, Damien. Not this time.” The Silence The room fell still. Damien’s jaw tightened, his fists curling at his sides. For a long moment, he said nothing, only stared at her as though she were an unsolvable puzzle. Finally, he moved a slow, deliberate step closer. His hand rose, cupping her chin, forcing her eyes to his.