Quiet On The Western Front Book Novelas e Histórias

​Winnie’s POV ​The silence that followed the destruction of the Western fleet was heavier than the snow. It was a thick, suffocating blanket that pressed against my lungs, smelling of scorched iron and the salt-bitter tang of the deep ocean. I sat on the frozen edge of the docks, my hand resting on Cassian’s chest. His heartbeat was slow, a faint drum echoing in a hollow cave. For the first time since I had met him, the shadows that usually danced around his shoulders were gone. He looked smaller, more human, and terrifyingly fragile. I watched the steam rise from his skin where the freezing air met his fading warmth.

Her childish voice echoed in his mind even now, but the person who had said those words was gone. Those soothing words now felt like sharp daggers, cutting into his heart. Terrified and trembling to his core, he realized he was truly alone. When Henley climbed onto the windowsill, he felt a strange sense of peace. He wanted to see Joanna again, to feel her stroke his hair and softly tell him she was still there. The rain poured all night. When Henley woke up the next day, he thought he had already died. However, when warm sunlight touched his body, he realized he was still alive.

That's how people on the edge of divorce should act. Worried Prof. Dalloz might go in harder, I leaned close. "Prof. Dalloz, we're on his plane. Maybe ease up a little?" Another cold snort. But he didn't say a word. Just stared out the window. "I'm gonna rest for a bit," he said, eyes drifting shut. That was the last time he did. He looked the same—head high, back straight. Even in death, he still carried that quiet pride.

The silence after war was always the most deafening. Ember Hollow stood wounded, its bones exposed beneath the cloak of smoke and blood. Fires still smoldered along the western ridges, hissing and popping as the morning rains touched the ash. A strange quiet had settled, one that didn’t speak of peace—but of suspense. Like the breath drawn before a scream.

I stayed where I was, staring out at the fog-draped hills, my breath ghosting in the cold air. It was strange — how war had become routine. You’d think it would feel monstrous every time. That the weight of leading men to die would get heavier. But it doesn’t. It just gets quieter. And that silence — it’s worse. I crouched, pressing a hand to the ground. The earth was damp, trembling faintly beneath my palm. Wolves in the distance howled in sync, a low rumble that rippled through the camp like a heartbeat. They were ready.

She looked up at me, something between fear and faith in her eyes. “But what if it already did?” Nyx’s POV – A World Gone Quiet Sybil burst into the training yard out of breath. “There’s a problem in the west.” That was an understatement. A village had gone completely silent. Not destroyed. Not burned. Not evacuated. Silent. The grass didn’t rustle. The leaves didn’t fall. The birds didn’t fly. No voices. No animals. No wind. We arrived within the hour. And what we saw chilled me deeper than fire or death ever could.

Chapter 134 Rohan POV The first rule of war I ever learned was simple: when the enemy stops making noise, they are not retreating. They are repositioning. By the second morning after Amanda’s alignment surfaced, the silence had become unbearable. The political landscape held its breath in a way that made every instinct in me itch. This was not calm I had grown to understand. It was preparation. I had seen it before, back when conflict still came with banners and bloodshed. The quiet before the charge always felt heavier than the clash itself. Ella noticed it too.

The soft groan of wood rang out in the quiet bookstore as Lena turned over the last sign on the door: **CLOSED**. Outside, the city drew a breath, illuminated by amber streetlights and the quiet rumble of passing cars. Within, the world held its breath. Warm. Intimate. Holy.

The unmistakable sounds of lovemaking filled the air. Don froze, his face going pale as he turned toward Fiona in disbelief. The guy clapped his hands. "If you all wanna see the uncensored video, scan the code and join the group chat! It's free!" One of his goons held up a big piece of paper with a giant QR code printed on it. The crowd rushed over immediately. Within minutes, a bunch of young guys were squatting on the ground, grinning as they watched the video on their phones. The moans and gasps echoed through the crowd, making Fiona's face flush a deep red.

A little whisper of an echo darting through the darkness. Both of us tensed, our wolves alert and ears scanning for any trace of sound. Staying quiet was one of the lines in the poem, but we had no other way to communicate. Quiet did not mean silent, and I wondered if we might get away with lowering our voices. A musty smell wafted through the shelves; it smelled of dust, bones, and dry leather. It wasn’t the most disgusting thing I had smelled, but was bad enough to make Helena and I wrinkle our noses. I pointed towards the unending rows of bookshelves.