Nora Smith Audio Book Novels & Stories

Ignoring Stephen's comment (which thankfully the werewolf man did not notice the woman's reaction at all), Nora gestured to enter the dimensional portal the woman had just created while speaking, directly leading them into the living room of the apartment where the woman lived. "Benvenuto, everyone," Nora immediately jumped over to the sofa chair like an elementary school child who was happy when they finally got home, sitting with both of her hands resting on the backrest of the chair the woman sits on while the woman's legs are crossed. "So, what's bringing you here, Karl Smith? As I do not believe you will come only to visit me to bring that sword that your late grandfather inherited, rig

So when I saw the Everley runes glowing faintly in the beams of the ceiling, as if scorched there by hands long dead, I went straight to her. I found Nora in the great hall, her hair tangled from sleep, fire flickering across her skin in restless sparks. She looked at me once and knew. She always knew. “Come with me,” I said, voice low. The library was dark except for the faint golden shimmer of runes. They pulsed like veins, casting fractured light down on the rows of books and the stone floor. I tilted my head up, throat tight. “Everley script,” I muttered, my voice bitter. “Etched into the bones of a place my House wanted erased. And here I am, pretending I have the right to study it. To

“It’s not.” There was a beat. Then another. When she didn’t continue, I scowled. “What are you not telling me?” Nora bit the inside of her cheek, like she was measuring how much she could get away with sharing with me. Then she dug around in her satchel before pulling out an old, leather-bound book. The binding was worn and cracking, and the cover was faded with the crest of House Aurelian. She opened it carefully and turned the pages with a brittle whisper before pausing.

​The air was no longer sterile; it smelled of old paper, cold tea, and the faint, lingering scent of Julian’s damp coat. ​She looked up. Christina Wilder was still in her wingback chair, but she was no longer smiling. She looked at Nora’s blistering hand with a expression of profound respect. ​"You're back," Christina said. "But you're late. The 'Final Audit' didn't wait for you, Nora. The Council has already begun the De-Listing." ​Nora scrambled to her feet, ignoring the pain in her legs. She ran toward the "Special Collections" door at the back of the library.

——- The night crept on. Back at the dorm, Norah sat curled up on her bed, the lights low and the air still. Her books were open in front of her, but she hadn’t turned a page in hours. Ivan’s voice kept looping through her head — the rough edge in it, the way he’d looked at her like she was the only thing that could both save and destroy him. She pressed a hand against her chest, trying to steady the uneasy rhythm there. The door opened, and Mary walked in, humming softly, a first-aid box in her hand.

His words, the intense look he gave her, snagged inside Norah’s heart and pulled, yanking her toward a desire to really believe what he was saying. “You mean to clear the Gritti’s name… To reinstate the bank’s honor… while helping the naïve maid in distress…” Norah said as much to remind herself as to mock him. Her prison-cell analogy had been wrong. This was the lion’s cage she was trapped in with the king of beasts flicking his tail as he watched her.

whispered Liam, half astonished. Nora took off her sunglasses. "Don't be so loud, people can recognize me." Liam sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why did you want to see me, Miss Nora?!" Nora gave him a sharp look. "I need your help, Doctor Liam." Liam laughed softly. "What kind of favor, Miss Nora?" Nora held back her emotions. "I know you love Rebecca very much, don't you?!" Liam immediately fell silent. A man's heart beat faster. "And?"

Enough food for twenty people even though it's just the three of us. Nora sits between Mira and me, her hair still damp from her shower, wearing one of her favorite pink sweaters. She looks more like herself now, though still too thin, still haunted around the eyes. She eats slowly, savoring each bite like she can't believe it's real. "Nora," I say after we've been eating for a while. "We need to talk about something." She looks up, wariness in her eyes. "Okay." Mira reaches over and takes her hand. "It's about Anthony. Your lecturer."

Chapter Thirteen Nora didn’t speak to anyone for two full days. She skipped lectures. She avoided her phone. She barely ate, and even when she did, the food tasted like ash. Her sketchbook, usually her sanctuary, remained closed, its pages mocking her silence. Her light the quiet glow that had always followed her flickered and dimmed.

I did not say anything during the entire thing and just watched her quietly as she put on her show. I wanted to know just how sincere she was during our seven years of friendship. By the looks of it, I was too naive and mistook this venomous viper for a harmless pet. That was why I ended up dying so tragically in the previous cycle. “That’s fine. If you can’t help me, someone else will.” I did not stop smiling and dialed a number. The moment the call went through, the person on the other end asked anxiously, “Miss Nelson, have you managed to contact Joy?”