Mirage And Wraith Novels & Stories

"He was building a 'Noah’s Ark' for the Resonance." ​The Confrontation with the Prime-Wraith ​The vault door didn't close fast enough. ​A single Blood-Wraith, larger than the others, its oily skin translucent enough to reveal a skeleton made of red crystal, slipped through the gap. It didn't lunge. It stood in the center of the Archive and began to "Mimic" Leo’s form.

“What?” A Mirage cannot tell the difference between protection and possession. If she believes she must save you, she may decide she has to become you to do it. The blood drained from my face. “She wouldn’t,” Wouldn’t she? I didn’t answer. The storm outside cracked again, blue light flashing across the glass. I looked out at it and whispered, “Then we better find her before she forgets who she is.”

I insisted. For a moment, his mouth twitched. Not amusement exactly. Maybe approval that I pushed. “The wraith lands are worse than neutral territories,” Spiro explained. “Neutral paths may kill you because no law holds. Wraith lands may take you even if you survive.” I did not like the difference. Astrid’s voice came quieter. “Wraiths exist there?” Astrid asked. Spiro looked at her. “Yes,” he answered.

I called out, turning around. But they were gone. The ten thousand wolves had been funneled into different corridors. I was alone in a sapphire hall with Kaelen and Hala. "She’s separated the head from the body," Hala said, her staff tapping nervously. "She wants to see how the Queen fares without her choir." A sound echoed through the maze—the sound of claws on ice. But it wasn't the sound of one or two creatures. It was the sound of thousands. From the translucent walls, figures began to emerge. They were "Ice-Wraiths"—beings made of frozen mist and sharp, crystalline bones. They looked like the prisoners from the Silver Mines, but their faces were frozen in a final scream.

The smoke twisted violently as it rose higher into the air, slowly beginning to take shape. Large. Massive. Not entirely smoke this time. A muscular body slowly formed from the darkness, pale gray skin appearing beneath the rolling shadows while enormous black wings shaped from smoke spread outward behind its back. Its glowing eyes burned in shades of red and purple blended together like living fire. My breath caught violently in my throat. I knew him. Not from real life. From the crystals. The same creature I saw when I touched them. Only now— I could see him clearly. And somehow that was far worse.

“Did you hear that?” Torren’s daggers were already in his hands, his eyes darting to the shadows. “Yeah. And it’s not the wind.” The whispers grew louder, a chorus of voices speaking in a tongue long forgotten. From the cavern’s depths, shapes began to emerge—ethereal, translucent figures, their forms flickering like dying flames. Their eyes were hollow sockets, their mouths open in silent screams. “Wraiths,” Elara breathed, her voice trembling. “Spirits bound to the prophecy. They’re drawn to the fragments.”

Luka’s vehicle swerves behind, headlights flashing. We skid to a stop, the wraiths circling, their howls deafening. I kick the door open, shifting as I leap out, my black wolf charging the first wraith. Talis follows, her silver-blue form a streak, her claws slashing the second’s flank. Pain explodes as the wraith’s jaws snap at my leg, but I twist, biting deep, its unnatural blood bitter on my tongue. Luka shifts, joining the fray, his wiry wolf tackling the first wraith with me, while Regan fires a shotgun from the truck, pellets grazing the beasts. Savannah stays inside, her face pressed to the window, terror in her eyes.

A few of the men remained on the ground, not transitioning to dragons, for they were to deal with the English mages and stop them from continuing to curse the weapons the knights used. They used old and powerful magic that could quickly kill a dragon, and that was the only way the pathetic English were any match for the dragon-shifters. The English had a few shifters themselves, but none of them were dragons, and only a few could fly. There was a phoenix and a griffin among them, but Ian had injured the griffin hours before, and Valen had destroyed the phoenix. It would rise again, but not during this battle.

The pack had come to hunt rogues, but she was staring at mirrors of her own stolen past. One rogue shifted his weight to the left, shoulders dipping low. Tovan read it instantly as a frontal rush. He barked a signal, and the warriors braced forward, shields raised against the expected impact. But Mira’s scar suddenly burned with freezing agony. Through the invisible tether to Sera, she felt the true threat before it materialized. It wasn't coming from the ground. It was falling from the canopy above, masked by the drumming rain and heavy leaves. “Above!” she screamed, her voice tearing through the storm.

progressive-markdown_:is(p,blockquote,ul,ol,h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6)]:pr-8"> _*]:min-w-0 gap-3 standard-markdown"> "There it is." Dr Whitfield turned the monitor toward me. "Right there. See it?" I leaned in, searching for the single flicker she'd shown me at my last visit. There were two. "Wait." My voice cracked. "Are those... two separate?" "Two sacs." She tapped the screen with her pen, calm, like this happened every Tuesday. "Congratulations, Mira. You are having twins."