Outer Banks Fic Novels & Stories

My chest tightened. Then suddenly... all I could see was Marcus' face. "You think you can escape?" he sneered. No. What is this? Am I back in the Silver Moon Pack? This can’t be real. "No!" I gasped, shrinking away from the figure, backing against the wall. "Please….don’t!" And then it happened. The scream tore out of me before I could even understand I was the one making it. And then, everything went black. --- When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in the dark room.

Richard became just another rough-faced laborer. They left their noble selves folded in a trunk in the stable, stepping out as different people into a different world. The Outskirts weren't just a part of Cinderfell; they were its grim, forgotten underbelly. The breathtaking views of the lake and sea were hidden behind a tangled web of leaning, ramshackle buildings built on rotting docks. The air hummed with the buzz of flies and the low din of desperation. Here, the wealth from the cliffs above trickled down only as grime and misery. Children with hollow eyes played in the filth, and hard-faced men watched the newcomers with a predatory stillness.

"If I can get in contact with the thing...maybe it'll guide me. The captain ain't helpin' and Lord knows that kid ain't goin' to go anything but make it worse. If his blood will free us or lift the curse then so be it." He threw the rolled-up cigarette into the sand, grinding it deep with his heel. The ash burned at the hard skin of his bare feet but the pain barely touched him. "Get over here!" He called out to two men returning from the wooded glades. Blood of a small animal stained their shirt and sweat blended in an unpleasant oil painting on their skin. Blake didn't want to know what they had been doing. Having been around the slums of the docks and seen what went on behind the closed d

Sydney was kind of a bitch, if I'm to be honest. The way she ended my farewell to Charlie was completely inconsiderate of you asked me. The noisy woods distracted me from my thoughts, and helped me focus back on my surroundings. The Crickets chirping and the subtle rustling of nocturnal creatures stuttering about, echoed loudly in the silent night. The sounds came as a comfort and as a guide, given that I could barely see. Most wolves would have a problem with this, even with the moon and stars completely blocked by a thick layer of leaves, but Omega's senses weren't as heightened as them.

"They are men of the docks. They know how to disappear into the hold of a ship. They can handle themselves. But my babies... they cannot handle a Wolf." We drove in a tense, suffocating silence toward the outskirts of the city, toward the roar of the water that had seen my world crumble earlier that day. When the waterfall finally came into view, it looked different, no longer a scenic backdrop for a Gothic tragedy, but the entrance to a fortress.

Leo asked if she needed him to pull over, but she shook her head. She was surprised when they left downtown and uptown Omega City behind, not quite reaching the edge of The Fringe, but not all that far from it. Amber could see the familiar, ugly outline of where she had grown up on the horizon. She had to roll up her window as well as the stench of fish slammed into her face as they drove to the docks by the Port Of Omega City, once known as the Port of Los Angeles.

Thomas had been trafficked into a hidden underground venue. His once-handsome face and fit body became “fresh meat” for twisted desires. On his first call, he endured inhuman torment and abuse. It shattered the last remnant of his backbone. He no longer dreamed of recovery, numbing himself with cheap alcohol, growing increasingly violent. Later, Mandy was released and found him. In a shabby apartment, they quarreled and coexisted, constantly fighting. After a particularly brutal altercation, Mandy disappeared with the daughter they had claimed, leaving him utterly alone.

It was nearly midnight, and a wind had started up outside, rattling the frame, shaking loose centuries of dust. Gem excused herself, the new girl trailing behind, and Xander followed with the excuse of “locking up the east wing.” It was obvious as theater, but Carolina let it pass. She watched Morgan and Finch in the penumbra of the desk lamp—Finch dealing with deliberate precision, Morgan narrating each draw as if laying the groundwork for a mythology. “You’re thinking too loud,” Finch said, not unkindly. “I think in stories,” Morgan replied. She glanced at Carolina for permission; when none came, she went on. “Was the world always so… weird, before it cracked?”

The jolt is clean as cold water. We take two SUVs and half the cavalry to get this done right. We stop two blocks short of the river to come in on foot. The August sun is a brass coin that the water throws back shard by shard. Harbormere’s warehouse sulks on the quay, flaking paint, row of dusty panes, a logo someone paid too much for. A few cars nose along the curb; a man in a suit, Finch perhaps chews a phone call and his own lip at the same time. Inside, voices. One is Maxwell’s polished contempt. One is Josie’s sugar gone sour, and one must be Sable, all tin and salty comebacks. Becky’s voice ghosts in my ear.

The young werewolf who had a fine build walked to the side of the car his mother was in. She told him some things Harold couldn't hear from where he was. Not like he was bothered. He was free from her. Free from everyone. He was in Golden Lake University, his school. Max walked back to his luggage with a smirk on his face. The very second he left his mother's side, the limousine's engine came alive with a mild hum and tumbled down the road at a great speed. Harold sighed when Sarah was gone. “Where's it being held?” Max asked.