Phantom Wraith Novels & Stories

Tobias said. I nodded slowly. “They were wrong,” I said. “Yes,” Tobias said. “That is the word most people use when they lack a better one. Wrong. Wraith-touched things do not give room for life. They do not rot properly. They do not heal properly. They do not return to the natural order. My Phantom wolf ability can guide life back into what still has the capacity to receive it. It can restore broken land if something living remains beneath the ruin. But wraith-touched earth rejects that call.”

Ronan said, his voice echoing slightly in the concrete room. “I’m too wired to sleep.” I swiveled in the chair, facing him. He was leaning against the console, arms crossed, the picture of controlled readiness. But the shadows under his eyes betrayed him. “You look worse than I do.” A faint, tired smile touched his lips. “I’ve been coordinating the physical op. Our specialist, ‘Wraith,’ is in position. She confirms the patrol schedules match the schematics. The window is still green.” “Wraith,” I repeated. “Melodramatic.”

The Wraith was a professional; she needed to equalize the environment. Retreating into the study—a room filled with towering mahogany shelves and a massive glass skylight—she moved to a lighting control panel hidden behind a false book spine. Instead of her gun, she pulled a high-intensity infrared (IR) strobe from her pocket. Invisible to the naked eye, the device was the equivalent of a million flickering suns to someone wearing high-end night-vision goggles. She tossed it into the center of the room and momentarily pulled off her own goggles. Through the lenses, she saw the effect instantly. The Wraith, moving with predatory grace, suddenly recoiled. He ripped the goggles from his face, h

"Stay behind me. If you feel yourself slipping, call my name. Do you hear me? Just my name." ​"I hear you, Kael," she whispered, though for a heartbeat, she had to struggle to remember why that name made her chest ache. ​They reached the base of the tower. It wasn't built of stone, but of a black, glass-like substance that pulsed with a rhythmic, sickly light. As they approached the entrance, three Wraiths materialized from the shadows. They were tall, elegant, and wore masks of hammered silver.

They melted. The Queen’s fleet was ready. From the shadows of The Eclipse a bunch of "Void-Wraiths”. Big winged creatures made of smoke and teeth. Came out diving toward Helios to cover his light. "Malachi they're targeting his core!" I cried out. "I see them!" Malachi’s tattoos started glowing with a protective purple. He stepped to the edge of the railing. Sent out a wave of shadow-energy that hit the wraiths tearing them apart in the air.

I lunged forward, ignoring Liam's warning shout, and grabbed the wraith by what passed for its throat, pulling it close until that void of a face was inches from mine. "Speak clearly!" I roared, channeling every ounce of alpha command into my voice. "Tell us who sent you! Tell us what you want with her!" The wraith convulsed in my grip but I pressed deeper, a cold chill climbed up the arm holding its throat but I didn’t care. “Tell me!” I snarled but the wraith shriek in a way that nearly exploded my eardrums then it vanished. One moment it was there in my hands, solid enough to touch despite being made of shadow. The next, it was gone, leaving only wisps of darkness that dissipated like smo

“So, she is part demon? One of Dante’s sprogs that slipped through the net?” “No,” Lucas leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as a weary sigh escaped him. “Atlas and Amos don’t have wolf spirits remember? Chloe does; Hecate.” “Hecate? What kind of name is that?” “It’s the name of a Greek goddess. As far as we can tell, only the Wolfe line has a wolven spirit with a Greek name. Even Sierra and Alvaro don’t have them. So, how come she has one?” Lucas raised an eyebrow, hazel eyes darkening as the questions piled up. “I think we need to make a call.”

“Positions!” The pack scrambled into formation. The sound grew louder, like the hum of hundreds of bees under the skin of the earth. The mist thickened again, swirling in unnatural patterns. I reached for Kael. “It’s him, isn’t it? Ronan?” Lyra shook her head. “No. Something worse. He’s summoned the Wraiths.” Before Kael could ask, the first shape appeared, tall, skeletal, cloaked in black smoke. Eyes like embers burned in the darkness beneath its hood. Then another. And another. A dozen.

He took a step forward— And the ground beneath them trembled. A deafening howl split the air, primal and enraged. Shadows shifted in the ruins below, moving unnaturally fast. Then, from the darkness, they emerged. Wraiths. Not quite werewolf, not quite human—twisted beings caught between forms, their bodies flickering as if reality struggled to contain them. Their eyes burned with unnatural fire, and their snarls carried the weight of the damned. Bram drew his blade. “I hate this place.” Freya’s daggers gleamed as she fell into a ready stance. “We hold our ground.”

Not when he can be here to live his life without prying eyes. End of Flashback Now, Wraith, in his black pants and fitted grey shirt, biting at a toast as he stares at him. He's still small in stature, about five feet flat, eyes widening as he kneels one knee down on the floor. Yeojoon snorts and waves him off, gesturing him to stand. "Good morning, Wraith. It's nice to see you're back. Where's Damon?" "Silenus, Sire?" Wraith removed the toast from his lips and held it with his hands as he stood up straight. "I haven't seen them yet."