Read Omniscient Reader Novels & Stories

Emma stands over me, her strange smile now a wide, triumphant grin, her blue eyes glinting with a cold, malevolent joy. A voice echoes faintly, a sound of terror. A scream—maybe hers, maybe mine, I can’t tell. It feels distant, muffled, as if coming from another dimension. My vision tunnels, the world narrowing to a single, shrinking point of light. The beautiful ceremonial dress, the glittering gold, the flowers woven into my hair—they blur into an indistinguishable mess. Emma’s face, a distorted, mocking mask, is the last thing I see clearly. Before the world goes black, my thoughts, frantic and desperate, reach for Nox. His name is a silent plea, a burning need in the rapidly fading light

Hybrid Ryan's POV All our attention was now on Lisa and Vanessa as they dropped a big old rusty book on the table and were flipping the pages with force.The sound of mumbling incoherent words could also be heard,I could feel Tasha's nervousness each time they flipped the page. 'Hey whatever they find out you still belong to me.’ I told her through the mindlink. 'Thank you’’ She looked at me and replied through the link before her eyes went back to the book.

“Never in my life did I think I would say that.” “You don’t seem angry anymore,” said Roman, “I guess that’s something.” “Oh no. I’m not angry anymore. I’m just wildly confused. Hey, can you read my every thought now?” Roman shook his head. “No, only when you let me. Although I have heard of mates being able to read their thoughts when the other is nervous for whatever reason.” Nora blushed. “Oh. Right. Good to know.” “Come on. Let’s go. We’ll see the wizard----”

The energetic flow of words painted a vivid picture, capturing Omar's curiosity in the process. Omar, who had been quietly observing the scene, raised his head in curiosity, drawn to the lively exchange between Keita and Alister. His earlier shyness began to fade away as he became captivated by Keita's enthusiastic storytelling. With a sense of wonder in his eyes, Omar watched intently, gradually opening himself up to the new surrounding and events unfolding before him.

3RD PERSON POV Isis kept staring…trying hard to push away the thoughts from the night before. But then, as if she heard Omarion's thoughts, she aligned to them. “How is it possible that the once strong, rude and extremely proud Omarion Yandel could slump over a panic attack? I can’t seem to see the pride and strength…the sight of him crying and gasping for breath as vulnerable as a patient calling out to the doctor for help washed it all down the drain”, she thought.

When she took her hand off, she saw a drop of red ink which started to form into words and she read, “The body is made mortal but there is an immortal body. If triggered, the inner body is quickened. The Chosen One shall make atonement on the land of ashes.” She looked at Mr. Evans and said, “I can’t seem to understand it clearly. Can you help out?” She was expecting him to talk or at least move but he did none of that and Hazel sensed a thing. “Don’t tell me what I am thinking is true, no?” Mr. Evans heaved and blinked. “My vision has not been activated yet. I can’t see anything,” he said. “Then how did you know that the pages has words in it?” she asked with a look of doubt.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven…" When I reached one, a stranger's voice cut through the crowd. "Who's Cassandra?" Everyone turned to look, and their gaze fell on the Emperius University acceptance letter the man was holding. The looks on their faces were priceless. I smiled and said, "That's me." With a genuine smile, the young man handed me the letter. "Cassandra, you're the only student in the city to get a direct recommendation to Emperius University. You've got an amazing future ahead. Congratulations."

“Jasmine and vanilla.” A jolt, sharp and unwelcome, went through me. She could identify the scent from five feet away, through plastic. It was a level of sensory acuity I hadn’t fully accounted for. It made her dangerous. “Gloria claims only you can decipher the contents. That the code is tied to your bloodline, to sensory triggers only you would understand.” I paused, letting the implication hang. “Prove it.” I slid the journal closer to her. “You may touch it.”

Then she carried the book to the nearest reading table and sat down and opened it without ceremony, because if fate had written her a contract, the least she could do was read the terms. The book assumed considerable prior knowledge, in the way of very old scholarship that considered background context a reader's own problem. But Lena had been reading texts with gaps since she was twelve, filling in what was missing from context and inference, and she worked through the opening chapters with patient, accumulating attention. She arrived at the third chapter — The Convergent Case: When the Soul Holds More Than One Mark — and her reading slowed and became something considerably more personal. S