Mirage And Wraith Novels & Stories

Everything I had tried to bury, everything the Rift had sensed and stored over the centuries, coalescing into one dark, watchful pulse. A sudden shift in the shadows drew my eyes. The Wraiths appeared, not in swarms this time but individually, tall and thin with translucent bodies that bent the light of the silver veins into fractured specters. Their eyes glowed faintly, observing, judging, waiting. “Do not falter,” Cael whispered. “They feel fear. They feed on hesitation.” I took a step forward, feeling Auren’s hand on my lower back, steadying, urging. Cael’s gaze bore into mine, molten silver, burning away the remnants of doubt. Together, we approached the pedestal.

Maddox’s shadows bind a wraith, but Veyra strides in, her frost-eyes gleaming, shadow-wrought blade raised. “Convergence,” she snarls, “your allies break like glass. Surrender the blade, or they all die.” Her wraiths swarm, guardians falling, blood staining the crystals. Sylvara’s vines lash, Taryn’s lunar light flaring to shield Renn, but Maddox’s wound slows him, his shadows thinning.

Wolves writhed on the ground, some half-shifted and unable to return, their cries a broken chorus against the night. Above them all loomed the moon—blackened, cracked, bleeding crimson fire across the sky. From that cursed light descended the Eclipse Wraiths, half-shadow, half-wolf creatures that moved like smoke yet struck like steel. Their silver eyes burned with unnatural hunger, their jaws dripping black ichor as they swarmed.

"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.”

“In some places, no king’s order matters at all. There are exiles, raiders, oathbreakers, half-breeds, hunters, old cults, desperate families, creatures clever enough to speak and hungry enough to lie. Some hate the crowns. Some sell information to all three. Some kneel to whoever brings food. Some pretend neutrality while serving wraiths.” The last word seemed to move differently through the van. Wraiths. Astrid sat up straighter. I felt Ronan’s attention sharpen. Keiran’s silence changed too. Spiro noticed. Good. He probably meant us to. “You mentioned wraith lands,” I said. His gaze shifted to me. “Yes,” Spiro answered. “What are they?” I asked. “The places you do not enter,” Spiro replie

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.”

“It’s tied to me, to my bloodline.” Dayne’s hand tightens on mine. “We end this, Talis. Together.” The wraiths burst from the trees, red eyes blazing, one slamming the truck’s side, metal screeching. I shift, my silver-blue wolf leaping out, claws slashing the first wraith’s flank, pain searing my wounds. Dayne’s black wolf tackles the second, our bond syncing our strikes. Luka and Regan spill from their truck, knives and shotgun flashing, Savannah firing a flare that sparks the night.

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.