Kite Runner Book Novels & Stories

I insisted. Silence fell between us. He looked back at the book. Then at me. Then back at the book again. “You’ve been reading it?” he asked. “Yes.” “How far?” “I don’t know… halfway, I think.” “And what is it about?” he asked. “It’s about a boy,” I said slowly. He didn’t interrupt. “They threw him into a well,” I continued. “Left him there to die.” Drake’s grip on the book tightened slightly. “He didn’t die,” I added.

I’m still staring at her when I see a tornado starting to form around her, which causes me to panic until I realize she is the one creating the tornado. “Catch me if you can fellas” she says before the tornado starts to carry her away. That’s when I finally kick him into gear and start chasing her. Me and Saint are running neck and neck at our top speed and she is still at least half a mile away from us on her little tornado. Finally, I see her starting to lower herself to the ground, which makes me pick up speed. Me and Saint get there first followed by Zion. It takes our warriors a couple minutes before they catch up to us as well and we all circle my mate.

Continue 1,882 Words Check for AIHumanize Text Upload File CHAPTER 14 The trees seemed thicker as we ran. Branches hit my face. Stuck to my sweaty skin. My knee hurt with every step. I kept going. The soft silver light around me stayed low so it wouldn't give us away. Behind us the howls kept coming, steady and closer than I liked. Kade ran beside me breathing hard. He glanced back every seconds. "They're gaining again " he said. "Drax is pushing them hard." I nodded,. Didn't say anything. My side hurt where the claws had cut me. Every time I swung my arm it pulled on the cuts. Blood felt sticky on my sleeve. The leader and the others stayed a little behind. The injured man limped worse now

Kael's pov My chest heaved as I continued to run on the treadmill. Sweat dripped down my spine, my muscles burning, silently warning me to stop but I didn't. I needed the pain. I needed the fire in my body and the pounding of my heart to drown out everything I was thinking. But no matter how hard I pushed, I couldn’t escape the image of Arian’s face last night. I couldn't escape the tears that made his eyes wet. I couldn't escape the breaking of his voice when he asked me to leave him.

I've spent three months making sure that never happens to me. I slip out through the back path Mara described, and for a while my feet move like they've been waiting all day for permission. The trees close in fast, cutting off the last of the torchlight behind me. My legs remember this rhythm better than anything else, the cold air, the uneven ground, I ran like this the night I met Kael. I don't let myself think about him. Thinking about him is how I get caught. Then something in my chest pulls tight, sudden and sharp, like a hand closing around a rope I didn't know I was holding.

NOTE: THIS BOOK IS WRITTEN IN A BLEND OF FIRST-PERSON AND THIRD-PERSON POV. Kyra's POV Chapter 1 – The Witch Hunt The bells of Kyrrath rang out like war drums in the night. The sky burned red, echoing with cries of the dying. Smoke from burning trees and homes mixed with the sharp stench of blood. Soldiers in black steel armor marched through the city, dragging witches from their homes—ripping them from their families.

They want to know if they can come too. Astra gave him dry clothes and soup. She said, anyone can come. He stayed the night. In the morning he left with a bag of bread and a promise to tell his town. Rowan gave him a pebble. He said, for your house. The rider looked confused and then grateful. That night Thea wrote in her book. Storm came. Men came. People stood. Snow came. People stayed. She put the book away and went to bed. Kael was already there. He pulled her close.

We could feel the cold wind blowing through the broken walls. My brothers were moving around trying to help the people who were hurt. Kaelen was saying goodbye to the warriors who did not survive. His hands were stained with blood. His face looked very sad. Ryker was talking to the people who survived from the South and his voice was low and angry. Jaxon was usually a person but now he was quiet. He was giving food and water to the people who were shocked and scared. I was standing alone by the balcony. The wind was blowing my hair across my face. I was holding a book and its cover was old and scratched. I did not need to open it because I already knew what was written inside. It was the his

Pain shoots through my knees. But I get up. And I run again. “RAFE!” I scream, voice breaking — but thunder swallows the sound whole. He doesn’t hear me. Neither does Dorian. They are so close now. Too close. The two storms are about to collide. And if I don’t reach them— Something unforgivable will happen. So I run harder. Heart pounding. Legs burning. Throat raw. Running straight toward the moment that will destroy everything. I sprinted toward the center of the battlefield, praying to every god, every moon, every force in existence—

Irish began to run, each strike of her foot against the earth, reminding her that she had to escape or face her cruel moment of death at the hands of her mate. After a while of wildly running in no particular direction of the thick forest. Irish rested her back against a tree, her breaths coming out in heavy gasps, her body, moving in synchronous movements, with her barely supporting her body by holding her knees. Her stomach rumbled and she could feel the baby kicking in her womb. Instinctively, Irish lowered her hands to her stomach, caressing it. "Hang in there little one. Just a little bit more. I'm gonna raise you all alone. We'll make him understand you grew up without his help."