Mala Novel By Nimra Ahmed Novels & Stories

Nikkini demanded as she dropped to a squat beside a panting Maliya. “Nikkini, not now,” Dahlia protested in irritation as she tried to move Nikkni from Maliya’s side, but Nikkini held her ground and flicked Dahlia’s hand like it was a mere inconvenience. “Well? Where is she?” She asked Maliya earnestly. And I wanted to intervene. I knew I should have, but like everyone here, I also needed to hear the answer to that question. “Dead,” Maliya whispered as the dam inside of me broke loose.

It's nearly impossible to get any service on this stupid island, in these stupid woods. "... we need more boots on the ground,” a woman says from around the corner. My breath freezes in my throat, and I desperately search for somewhere to hide. Spotting an open classroom door, I slip through it. The room is dark, and I thankfully have the cover of night to keep me safe. Crouching low, I peek through the crack as two Silver Hunters turn into the hallway and stop. They both have their helmets off, and the woman has long, blonde hair that falls down her back.

It was written using a red ink and the hand writing was impeccable. I read the name, “The Predator in Saint Guillermo…” “What is it about?” “Why ask if you could read it?” The book was about the small town of Saint Guillermo. It was located at the top of Almadana mountain far of the North. It was depicted as “the ideal town of the North” for all was rich and plenty there. The houses were marbles, the shops were colored by festivity, there was a school and a big infirmary, and all people were educated, except one.

And the nights… the nights when his touch was soft enough to make me forget where I was, soft enough to make me think I wanted to stay. A knock on the doorframe breaks through my thoughts, I Jerked and raised my head to find Mala staring at me. “You awake?” Mala asked her voice gentle and curious. I push myself up on my elbows. “Yeah.” She leans in, balancing a chipped mug in one hand, her braids are pulled back into a loose bun, and she’s wearing one of her oversized T-shirts that slips off one shoulder. “ I brought you coffee. Thought maybe you’d want to get out of bed before… you know, before it’s already afternoon.”

The girl glanced at Vivian but uttered only a single word, barely above a whisper, "Malia." "Malia," Vivian repeated softly, acknowledging her response. "That's a beautiful name. Now, Malia, where can I take you? Your home address or perhaps a friend's address?" Vivian continued, attempting to gather more information. However, instead of responding, Malia's face contorted with anguish, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

I had so much fun writing this chapter the tension, the darkness, and that little spark between Lyra and Malaki 😏 I swear, every time those two are in the same room, something electric happens! What do you guys think about this new side of Malaki? Is he just being his dangerous self, or is there something deeper behind his actions? And poor Lyra would you have run if you were in her place, or stood your ground? 👀 I honestly can’t thank you enough for all your love and support. Every comment, like, and share keeps me going and reminds me why I love telling these stories so much. So please don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe if you’re enjoying the story it really helps more than you

Vittorio – POV At His Mansion, “Lock the fucking doors. Nobody enters and Nobody breathes unless I say so.” The heat slapped me the moment I stepped into Malva’s circle. The walls pulsed red from the fire in the center of the room. Sweat already gathered at my back, sliding down my spine. Smoke curled thick in the air, burning herbs mixed with blood, something sweet and rotten, something alive. Malva stood barefoot by the flames, her long braids wet with oil, her skin shimmering with sweat. She didn’t look at me. Didn’t speak. Just dropped bone after bone into the fire like she was feeding some starving god.

I had never felt that way, not even for Malia. At the thought of that, the clock resumed ticking for me and upon hearing footsteps and perceiving what was surely Malia’s scent, I tossed Nivera onto the bed where she landed with a mild thud, and immediately, Malia walked into the room without bothering to knock just like I had suspected she would. “Hey,” I said nervously. “Hey,” she said, wearing a smile on her face which vanished the moment she saw Nivera on the bed. “Why are you lying there? Have you lost your mind or something?” she nearly screamed on top of her lungs at Nivera.

And if he doesn’t come back here, then what awaits him? There’s no answer that doesn’t feel like falling. Near the stables, Mala is saying goodbye to her mother. Edith’s eyes shine with tears she pretends not to shed, and Mala laughs. That dry, knowing laugh that makes everything around her feel less heavy than it is. I watch her with a strange sense of awe. “You’ll be fine,” she says, with that lazy drawl that makes it sound like nothing matters at all. “It’s not like I’m dying, Ma.”

Hey peeps, Thank you very much for clicking this novel, I’m very happy for you to read this novel I wrote with passion and love. I’ve written a lot of stories but never published them. This is the first to be published, and I really hope you like it This story is different from the usual story on GoodNovel but I really hope you enjoy it. The love, suspense, thrill and death Please note, if you cannot handle fights and gun violence please DO NOT READ. They will be quite a lot in this story.