Lost Words: Beyond The Page Novels & Stories

he says, and even Lucifer looks skeptical. "How?" Lucifer asks, crossing his arms. "I don't know what it was, or what I saw, but the thing pointed me in the direction of where the book is hidden at. It's in a place where there's no name, or even people." Loss explained. I looked at him with a confused expression as I racked my brain to think of such a place. "There's a place like that?" I ask him, and Loss nods. "Yes, we just don't know it." he replies, and he takes my hand as his wings pop out.

The ballroom doors opened ahead of us, allowing cool night air to drift softly inside. Williams continued talking excitedly beside me about juice, stories, and something Annie apparently did with a napkin that made absolutely no sense. And this time… I listened carefully. Actually listened. Because some losses teach you exactly what matters. And I had already lost enough. Behind me, the ballroom remained full of light and music. Ahead of me, the night stretched quiet and uncertain. But for the first time in years… I stopped looking backward. And even though it hurt more than anything I had ever experienced… I finally let her go.

"Winning at the cost of yourself means you don't exist anymore anyway. You've just built a trophy where your heart used to be." "Then you've never wanted anything badly enough." "Or I've wanted something badly enough to know that losing it would destroy me." He stepped away from the podium. Walked toward her, Slowly. "You think winning the scholarship will fix you, Mira. It won't. You'll just be a winner who's still alone." Mira's hands gripped the podium edges. "And you think losing yourself in someone else is better?" "I think losing yourself for someone else is different." He stopped in front of her. Close... too close. "I think there's a version of winning that includes someone standing

A tension, a crack in the foundation, like the first hairline fracture in a dam. He guided Lily back toward the door. She leaned on him heavily, her steps faltering, her breathing labored — a picture of fragile, wronged womanhood being led away from the scene of her own crime. At the door, Lily paused. She turned her head — just slightly, just enough for me to see the edge of her profile — and her lips moved. No sound came out. But I read the words clearly: You lose. Then they were gone. The door closed behind them. Their footsteps echoed down the stairwell, growing fainter and fainter until they were swallowed by silence.

"I know they're not real, Jessa. But wouldn't it be wonderful if they were if magic was real and could whisk us away from all of our worries?" I reach over on the nightstand between the two beds for my bottled water. "Magic isn't going to pay my bills or make my future a success. Hard work will," I take a sip of water to clear my parched throat before continuing. "Can't you ask Mom and Dad to go with you? Dad loves his Irish Lore as much as you do. Right now, all I want to love is sleep or caffeine." "Mom and Dad took the tour bus to Dublin," Meena explains hurriedly, obviously letting me know that the morning is getting late. "They got tired of waiting for you, and Dad wanted to view the ma

Only this time, there was no trace of past affection in her eyes. That strange ache returned to Jonathan's chest. A sudden sense of loss crept in, like something precious was slipping away. He reached for it, only for the feeling to vanish when he was about to grasp it. The unknown inexplicably frustrated him. He pursed his lips and asked, "What are you doing here?" Eloise didn't linger. She strode toward the main gate without batting an eye at him and coldly replied, "To wrap up some personal business."

My finger slid beneath the next delicate page, a waft of fresh dust blowing beneath my nose. More blank pages. I gritted my teeth, turning the book over into one hand and skimming through them all with my thumb and forefinger. The pages whizzed by, not a single one filled in with writing. Why were they gone? Why did she stop? Why leave the eery message and code just to stop at ghouls? "Veritas," I repeated. Placing the book on my knee. "I don't understand.” “Maybe you need to channel a vision.” My wolf wondered, pulling away from the forefront of my mind.

The blackness rushed upward, swallowing the stadium, the gold suits, the silver eyes, and the little girl. Julian was the last one left. He reached out to me, his face a mask of pure, corporate terror. "You... you've canceled... everything..." Then, he was gone. The stadium was gone. The Moon was gone. The Earth was gone. --- ### The White Page I was floating in a world of pure, blinding white. There were no stars. There was no ground. There was no sound. It was the "Blank Page" the Author had spoken of. But it wasn't a page waiting to be written on. it was a page that had been washed clean.

I couldn’t just leave it there; I had to at least try to piece together the story. I turned my attention to The White Wolf and Her Alpha King. Despite the missing pages, the story was compelling. It told of a powerful white wolf and her journey to finding her destined mate, the Alpha King. Each torn page added an element of mystery, making me imagine the lost parts of the narrative. The fragments I could read were filled with intrigue, romance, and adventure, drawing me deeper into the world the author had created.

⸻ 🌙 The Lost Pages The book slowly opened. 📖 ⸻ Its pages fluttered wildly. ⸻ Most were empty. ⸻ Destroyed. ⸻ Gone forever. ⸻ Yet one page remained intact. ⸻ One final page. ⸻ One hidden page. ⸻ A page nobody had ever seen before. ⸻ The page that existed before Memory Zero. ⸻ 😨 ⸻ 🌙 Before The First Question The page glowed softly. ✨ ⸻