Invisible Storm Novels & Stories

I’m on the dorm roof before I’m fully awake, barefoot, Hellebore Mist already humming across my back. The others are right behind me (no one needs to be told when the sky changes its mind). Above us, the bruised-twilight sky has split open in a perfect vertical line. Through it I can see the real Black Sea at midnight, black water lit from below by something ancient and angry. A single line of Deep Script burns across the water, visible even from here: COME HOME, DAUGHTER OF STORMS. Remy steps up beside me, braids loose in the wind, golden eyes reflecting the underwater glow.

He stood up and took the dish from me. At the same time, he lowered his voice so only the two of us could hear. “Bastard. Haven’t you always been trying to block my way into the Translation Institute? Fine then. I’ll steal Wynnie from right under your nose. That’s only fair!” The next second, the plate slipped from his hands and shattered on the floor. Most of the hot sauce splashed onto me, yet he screamed as though he was badly burned.

I was frozen in place for what felt like forever. I did not shed even a single tear. It turned out that when a person felt the most devastated they had ever felt, they would not even be able to cry. The sun dipped below the horizon. A blood-red glow swallowed everything. The television said it would get hotter in the next few days. It was dry, so we had to be careful about fires.

a warrior whispers, before we can comprehend what's happening another tremor is heard , then another. Morris stiffens. “Positions... now.” He orders but before the command fully leaves his lips, the sky tears open. A storm, black and electric, forms out of nothing, clouds swirling like a living thing. Lightning snaps across the sky with sharp, unnatural precision. This isn’t weather, this is power, I remember this scene clearly, its storm power. The same kind Raven holds in her veins but this feels darker and cold. Warriors tense around us, grabbing their fighting gear ready for battle as they are always taught, the

Okay, I’m sorry her eyes tear up and I immediately feel bad, I walk over to her and pick her up and pat her back gently, she lays her head on me and whispers when is Stormie coming back, I miss her, she made me happy I just continue patting her until she calms down. I eventually walk with her up to their room and lay her down as she’s fallen asleep in my arms, I leave her there and head to my room, I need a soak in the tub, I put the water to run and rummage through the cabinet, Stormie kept it stock with so many things and variations of them too, I read until I find one for calming and relaxation and throw some of it into the water, I get her Marshalls speaker and put some music on. Once th

The place was too quiet—unnaturally so. Finally, Skyler guided her into a consultation room. "Ma'am, please rest here for a moment. I'll fetch the doctor." Sandra looked around the room. The next second, she heard the unmistakable click of a lock sliding into place. Alarmed, she lunged for the door. "Why did you lock it?" Just as she finished asking, the ceiling above burst wide open. Buckets of salt water came crashing down on her. "Ahh!" she shrieked, clutching her head as she was drenched.

“See? He’s a stone-cold motherfucker ... nothing bothers him because we know what’s true ... Lombardo is numero uno, and whoever says we’re not are the ones who want power change ... traitors ... and you know what happens to traitors?” Shadow was quiet for a moment before he nodded. They all knew what would happen to a traitor, and it’s easy to be considered a traitor in a sensitive time like that. “So ...” Joey slapped Shadow’s shoulder and startled him. “Do you know where we can find these Veronese Monkeys selling the Russian powder?”

that fucking bitch does not deserve a mate like my cousin; despite all his ghosts and skeleton in the closet, he is a solid man with a great heart and a fantastic sense of humor. I closed my eyes and reached out to Storm... "Storm..." I called her, but her link was closed. Fuck, she was either sleeping or fucking, and I prefer to believe she is sleeping. I removed Enzo's shirt, placed his body on the floor, and covered his chest with the cool towel. "I am bringing ice..." I said, and he nodded. His eyes were shut tightly, and his forehead had beads of sweat. "Fuck, Storm!" I yelled at the link, and suddenly, Storm opened the link.

CHAPTER 130 — THE GHOST OF EVERYTHING The storm had grown to a crescendo, a living, breathing entity of wind, shadow, and energy that clawed at their senses. Riven and Luca stood at the centre, threads of golden-red and shadow-black swirling violently around them, resisting the pull of the world-shattering tempest. And there it was—him. Or rather, something that resembled him.

GHOST The storm outside had turned vicious, wind slamming against the building hard enough to rattle the windows while thunder rolled in deep, layered waves beneath the floorboards. Rain battered the glass in relentless bursts that drowned out the quieter sounds of the apartment. Ember stood in the doorway like someone deciding whether to fight the storm or surrender to it, her body betraying her with every passing minute. Her breathing had grown uneven, and she kept touching her arms in small, restless movements that weren’t meant for him but that Ghost noticed anyway, cataloging each one.