Lord Of Whispers Novels & Stories

But he still held me firmly, hoarsely saying, "Alisha, I can't...even if you hate me, I..." His words were not finished when suddenly the surrounding black mist began to thicken, even covering the moon in the sky. A nauseating and foul stench filled the air. I widened my eyes, staring ahead. In the black mist, an immensely huge wolf manifested its form. The trees around it appeared petite in its presence. In its eye sockets were two crimson flames that emitted an ominous glow within the black mist. The Lord of Dark had appeared.

She spins toward the altar and slams the dagger down, deep, into the center of the obsidian. A pulse blasts through the room cracking the walls. The veil shimmers , half-open. And from beyond it, a low, ancient and hungry whisper seeps through. I know that voice. Even though I’ve never heard it before. Raelor Lycaon.

“The oaths bind every court. If we break them, the other kings will move against us. The tiger. The lion. The wolf. Even the ape lords would...” “Enough,” I snap. “You think I fear a council of half-beasts? You think I won’t drown their dens and make them drink my wrath?” He opens his mouth again, but I am already done. “Leave,” I say. “Before I add another body to my garden.” He drags the poisoned one away, careful not to look back. When the doors close, silence fills the basilica again, heavy and soft as a python’s coil. The Whisper Choir moves then, their silent shadows sliding down from the upper balconies. Their faces are painted white, their mouths sewn shut, and their eyes blindfolded

His voice sounded doubled, a deep, vibrating undertone hidden beneath his usual calm demeanor. Siron took a step back, his back hitting the cold stone of a shattered headstone. The scent of damp earth and ozone still hung in the air among the temple ruins. Elara had already vanished, leaving behind a warning that thrummed in his head: The Whisperer. He infiltrates through trust.

The air tightens, The wind stills. And the whispers return. Elixir. I stumble back, gasping. My head pounds, my vision swimming. I hear voices around me, Soren calling my name, hands grabbing my arms to steady me. But none of it feels real. Only the whispers. Only the mark. Only the truth I have spent my life trying to ignore. I was never meant to be free. I was always meant to be found. The Return of the Shadow The whispers grow louder, no longer just murmurs but voices, overlapping, pressing into my mind. My knees hit the ground, my breath sharp and ragged. The symbol beneath me pulses, the air thick with unseen energy.

The village was silent; the moon was low in the sky, casting a pale glow all over the trees. But the very whispers… now they were louder. You cannot fight it, Luna. You belong to us. Her fists clenched. Her heart raced. “No,” she softly swore, “I shall never let you take me.” We are not here to take you. We are you. A shiver crept down her spine. She looked down at the relic drumming against her very chest. It glowed dimly, pulsing in rhythm with her heart. Was this where the whispers were coming from? Was the relic the dark bound thing that was enthralling her?

Except, I never knew someone named Lord Heartfrost. “Do you keep arguing over anything? What are you even? Some evil spirits?” I tapped my forehead, annoyed. “Oh! In the name of the High Priestess Victoria! You can see us,” the white orb said excitedly. “Momo, he can see us. It must have been my power that made you see us.”