Robert Thier Storm And Silence Novels & Stories

Robert Wolfe was a man who believed silence was the sharpest weapon in his arsenal. Noise was for men who had nothing else to offer, men like his son Victor who thought rage equaled power. Robert knew better. Rage clouded, rage exposed. Strategy killed. The study smelled of smoke and oak, curtains drawn to keep the morning light at bay. The shattered whisky glass from the night before had already been swept away, though Robert could still see the stain bleeding faintly into the carpet fibers. He sat behind his desk, hands clasped, and waited as one of his men returned with a phone pressed into his palm.

Robert quickly approached him. "Got you buddy..." Silas fell in Robert's arms. Serenity turned towards Eliana and roared causing thunders to erupt in the sky, the window of her house broke down scattering everything in pieces. Wind started coming from the broken window but it wasn't the normal wind which one would enjoy. It was angry destroying the delicate things of the decorated house like it's showing it's anger. The sight consisted of heavy rain and thunder, storm like wind and an angry girl who was ready to turn everything into ashes but still that stupid Eliana wasn't ready to step back and accept her defeat.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧

The Silver Pack alpha made sure of that. "Goddess! How did you get that?!" Chester saw the wound but the other was too tired to respond. His wolf was trying to heal by shutting off their senses and getting some rest. "Not here. I'll take you back,” Chester said which Kinsley barely heard. He sensed him rustling and before long, he was riding on top of a big wolf. It was Chester's best friend and future beta. *** Kinsley woke up to a smell of herbal plants and clam chowder. His nose picked up somebody else's scent on where he was laying. He wasn't in his room.

I was frozen in place for what felt like forever. I did not shed even a single tear. It turned out that when a person felt the most devastated they had ever felt, they would not even be able to cry. The sun dipped below the horizon. A blood-red glow swallowed everything. The television said it would get hotter in the next few days. It was dry, so we had to be careful about fires.

Or a word. He hadn’t said a word since I followed him out. Not a threat. Not a taunt. Not even a glance. Which made me more uneasy than if he’d pulled a fucking gun. I knew silence like that—it was the kind of quiet that only ever came before a storm. And Lorenzo? He was the fucking hurricane that made it.

The kind of uncertainty that could swallow you whole. Black. Her eyes were black, but not the kind I usually associate with emptiness. Not like mine. Hers were layered, like a storm just barely held back. She’s chaos and calm, and it terrifies me more than anything else - because she makes me feel. And God, feeling has never been safe for me.

Something that had heard her words. The silence pressed in, heavy, suffocating. And then—nothing. Thorne’s lips parted, and she whispered into the emptiness: “Come then. If you dare.” The night answered only with silence. But something had stirred. Something that would not sleep again. —

As the sword rose, aiming at Thalia, withering in the pool of her own blood, I closed my eyes shut, my heart pounding hard against my chest. A thunderous growl rumbled from Cassian’s chest, and then the sword moved, followed by a gruesome cry of Thalia, as death finally clawed at her throat and silenced her for eternity…

"We end this. Now." And I believed him. Because when a storm has gone on too long, even silence becomes a scream. And we were done screaming.