Reverie At River Hollow Novels & Stories

The river was silent. No current. No wind. No scent of prey or predator. Just that still, silver water curling around jagged black stones like it was holding its breath. This was where she wanted me to come. Hollowfang River. I didn’t ask why it had that name. The way the trees bent inward, like they were bowing to something unseen, was answer enough. Kael walked beside me, his arm never more than an inch away. His entire body was tense. His wolf hovered close to the surface, furious and wary.

I stopped him. Southvale's scenery was beautiful, and the air there was fresh. Being amid nature and away from the hustle and bustle of the city naturally calmed our hearts. Living a simple and peaceful life was something I'd always wanted. It was too bad our trip didn't last for too long. Calvin made noise about wanting to have candy apples when we were almost home, so Skyler got out of the car to get him some. Calvin was curious about the street market outside and ran around haphazardly while I chased him. Suddenly, a motorcycle shot out of a nearby alley and headed straight for us.

Jade The Hollow was not a place. It was the negative space between realities, the echo of every story left unfinished, every promise whispered and almost broken. It breathed in the dark and shimmered at the edge of memory, waiting for someone brave—or desperate—enough to cross its threshold. It was a feeling—weightless, endless, memory-drenched and constantly shifting. Sometimes it felt like falling through water and sometimes like standing in sunlight that never quite warmed the skin. Time here was elastic, stretched thin over the bones of longing.

Like a distant call from something she had lost long ago. They took a cautious step forward—only for the ground beneath them to tremble. A deep, guttural growl echoed from the mist, low and menacing. They weren’t alone. The mist parted as they moved forward, revealing a river unlike anything Eve had ever seen. It stretched endlessly across the barren landscape, its surface dark as ink. But within its depths, distorted reflections flickered—images of the past, fragmented and broken. Eve’s heart pounded as she stepped closer. The water shifted, and suddenly, she saw her mother.

She croaked and began to wail. “Come on, baby. She’s okay. She’ll be okay, I promise.” He retorted. ___________ River happened to stumble in a bar when she became thirsty. She had been walking around taking pictures of wooden sculptures of creatures and human figures for a good hour and a half. She had already fallen in love with the small town and the breeze that flowed at night. Even during the day, it didn’t feel as hot and humid as in Texas. It was the opposite.

Yet now, when she looked down at them, they actually felt afraid. It felt as if the person she was looking for didn't come back; she'd destroy this entire river. Her beneficence was simply overwhelming. Lethe closed her eyes. It sounded like someone was whispering in all the evil spirits' ears. The sound spread from the fog, rushing straight down to the bottom of Mournglow River. It was like waves of Ethereal Echoes, but also like souls murmuring to each other. In that instant, the banks of Mournglow River, which had been silent for a thousand years, suddenly felt like wind was blowing through them. Red flowers got swept up and fell onto the river, and they were beautiful as blazing fire.

The boat cut through the calm waters, creating a little ripple in its wake as the group ventured deeper into the dense, untamed bush. The light seeped through the thick canopy of leaves overhead, creating dappled shadows that danced across Isabella's face as the sun rose. Xander's attention was on the river ahead, but he couldn't help but look at her. She was stronger than anyone he had ever seen, but there was still a hint of fatigue in her features.

The last page is stained and unreadable Evelyn investigates the forest where the river bends—locals call it “The Hollow.” Inside the willow grove, she discovers ancient symbols carved into bark and bones buried beneath moss. An old woman named Maeve warns her: “The river doesn't forget. Neither should you.” Evelyn begins to dream of drowning.

she whispered under her breath, “is the greatest night of my life.” I muttered through clenched teeth, “I hate you.” She grinned at me. “No, you don’t.” A gust of freezing wind swept through the packed lot hard enough to send loose napkins and Ravens flyers skidding across the pavement. Music blasted louder from somewhere near the tailgate rows while students shouted over each other heading toward trucks and bonfires. Black Hollow after a football win felt alive in the loudest possible way. Reeves adjusted the strap of his backpack before glancing between Takoda and me with completely unsubtle amusement. “So,” he announced, “we heading to Miller’s Lake or standing in the parking lot making p

The Silver Claw territory’s twilight hollow lay cradled in the embrace of a nascent dawn, where the first whispers of a waxing gibbous moon lingered, its silver glow a faint promise above a sky bruised with violet and gold. The hollow was a sacred refuge, a sunken grove ringed by ancient yews, their gnarled branches heavy with dark berries, leaves shimmering with dew, exhaling a musky tang that wove through the air, blending with the sweet bloom of night-blooming jasmine and the earthy richness of moss carpeting the ground. A crystal-clear spring bubbled at the hollow’s heart, its waters sparkling, reflecting the dawn in prismatic flecks, its soft gurgle a hymn of resilience. Vines of moonfl