Lord Of Whispers Novels & Stories

I sighed then proceeded to sit on the table, the comfy chairs would lull me to sleep as tired as I was. I found the two doctors staring at me like I was some sort of an overgrown beetle or some sort of a cure to a certain untreatable disease, maybe it was the blood on my shirt surprising them. I was just about to snap at them that it was unprofessional of them but then I remembered, I didn't have my glasses on. My eyes were the magnet that attracted their gazes. My shoulders hunched when I recalled the glasses being broken earlier. " You must be Michael Marcus" one of them faked a smile and said. The other one who had an overgrown mustache like he was from London was still gazing at me with

Silas whispered to the empty room. He lay back, the cold stone against his skin, and listened to the distant, rhythmic thrumming of the Shadow Claws setting up their new empire. He was the Ghost of the North Tower, a man who had everything to say and no one who wanted to listen.

They whisper again—my name, my fate, words I can’t catch but feel in the hollow of my bones. I lift my goblet with a hand that trembles despite my will. Across the table Kai watches me like a hawk, clever eyes bright with unspoken calculations. Silas’s gaze is lighter, softer, like a moon bleached night tide ready to pull me under. Rhett sits like a shield carved of flesh and heat, and Lucian…Lucian is the storm itself, barely contained. The whispers rise, overlapping, a choir of warning only I can hear. The predator waits.

I whispered. But Arnold continued mercilessly. “I, Alpha Arnold Reid of the Nightshade Pack…” My vision blurred. “…reject you, Leticia Hales of Frostfall Pack…” The mate bond snapped through my chest like something tearing apart inside me. “…as my Luna.”

I blinked in an attempt to get rid of the fog that was obscuring my vision. He sat a short distance away, tall and broad, with a dark cloak hanging over him and snow catching in his jet-black hair. A jagged scar ran across his cheekbone, sharp and warning, as if daring anyone to confront him. "Who are you?" I croaked with a raw throat. "The name is Lucian," he answered in a steady, composed tone. "I share your werewolf identity." With stiffness and pain in every movement, I attempted to push myself upright.

If I could just get to safety— The trees ahead of me exploded. A monstrous figure stepped through the flames. I barely had time to register the sheer size of it—easily fifteen feet tall, its body made of coal and molten fire. Its glowing ember eyes locked onto me, burning with something far worse than rage. Purpose. A deep, distorted voice rumbled through the clearing. “The time has come.” The air turned heavy, crackling with unnatural energy. My wolf recoiled, instinctively knowing we were facing something beyond our world. "We shall claim the Helm of the Gifted."

Meantime please relax and enjoy the night. The music stop, the DJ announces that this Valentine party has just begun. He introduces the next singer Alexis. “A wonderful evening to everyone, I would like to dedicate this song to all. Abby (Alexis in disguise), starts to sing. She put on her wigs so Debbie can’t recognize her. She went to Debbie’s table. Debbie is surprise and she can’t help laughing. ‘You are funny, Alexis? Abby to Debbie, ‘My heart leads me here; can you be my Valentine for tonight?’

I asked. "Are you joking? You know me," Ethan battered, but quickly turned serious again at the look on my face. "Of course I did. I wanted to confirm the information." "And did you?" "Well, with the rest of the warriors dead it was hard to confirm, but I did find something else of interest," he said. "When inspecting her room, I came across a bottle labeled with the name of that poison you told me about: Whisperbloom." My mind clicked as everything seemed to fall into place. If everything that Ethan found out was true it would appear that my own illness and the attacks on this pack were all connected, and all linked back to the same person.

Justin leveled his gaze, “The gods never favoured me. I prayed for months for even a sign. Nothing came. The Southern Lands care not of the business in the North. The people are fighting for a lost cause. I am no King.” We both were Goddess blessed. Maybe I was his sign from the gods themselves. But he served Eric. I couldn't risk telling him my identity as The White Wolf… “You may be serving Eric but you are still fighting for your people. Don’t give up on them.” I pleaded swallowing my pride, “Justin they need you.” And I need your help to find Vivian and escape… “What you are suggesting is treason to your king. Your betrothed.” He gestured to the black banded ring on my finger, “Keep your

"Your existence is destructive, you'll bring disasters in the life of your loved ones" I cried my heart out, the fear absorbed me, but the dreadful voice seemed to neglect my suffering and continued "you traitor! Murderer! Wait for your karma to destroy you as you destroyed them," The voice kept on echoing. I covered my ears in horror. I screamed but I couldn't find a single soul that could offer me a helping hand. I could listen to the voice rising wild and nigher the trees and its leaves the drifting air, the ground that I was fallen on with misery the rocks that stood still in its might all that existing around me whirled in a motion and whispered "It's time for your retribution, it's ti