Sandman Novels & Stories

Samantha leaned back against the pillows, exhaling slowly. A flicker, quick and sharp, flashed across her vision. A woman kneeling beneath a blood-red moon, eyes glowing silver, hands covered in dark ash. Samantha jerked forward, gripping the edge of the bed. The image vanished as quickly as it came. She swallowed, pressing her palm to her temple. “Not real,” she whispered to herself. “Just my imagination.” But the certainty wasn’t there. Trying to ground herself, she flipped to another page filled with sketches: wolves mid-shift, old territory maps, symbols she didn’t recognize. Her breathing steadied, though a faint tremor still lingered in her fingers.

Samantha Lykos felt it in her bones. Sam stood at the ravine’s edge, her bare feet sinking into the cool, loamy soil. Her auburn hair, streaked with silver that caught the moon’s eerie glow, whipped around her face as she hefted a boulder the size of a bear cub. With a grunt, she hurled it over the cliff. It crashed below with a thunderous crack, splintering into jagged shards among the ferns. A flock of ravens erupted from the trees, their screeches piercing the stillness. Her muscles burned, a sweet ache that steadied her racing mind. At twenty, she was lean but corded with strength, her green eyes sharp as she scanned the horizon. The moon painted her scar—a thin, pale line across her lef

Of herself, radiant beside him, crowned as Luna before the entire pack. By the time dawn began to break, Samantha’s dreams had already written themselves in her heart.Tomorrow, she thought with a trembling smile. Tomorrow, he will finally be mine. ---- The road beyond the Dam-Nighade border was a path few dared to take at night. Menar walked alone beneath a shroud of fog, her lantern’s flickering light barely cutting through the mist. The forest whispered around her—dry leaves rustling like murmurs of long-forgotten souls. Every few steps, she thought she heard faint laughter echoing between the trees.

The voice echoed again through the ancient hollow, rumbling like a forgotten thunder: “We did not take your vision, child.” Samantha’s breath caught in her throat. The tears that had stained her cheeks froze in place as a strange warmth coursed through her chest. She blinked rapidly, still surrounded by suffocating darkness, but somehow it no longer felt like blindness—it felt like… a waiting. “A-Am I dreaming?” she whispered, trembling. “Why can’t I see then, ancient spirits? Why is it so dark?”

Should I surrender to it, close my eyes, and give in to the comforting numbness? I was so tired; I doubted I could stay conscious much longer. But then, out of nowhere, something warm reached me. It began in the hand Kaden had held in his death grip, spreading to my heart, and from there, it gradually permeated my entire body. It melted the frozen ice that trapped me in the depths of my mind. I could breathe again. The warmth called to me, drawing me in like a moth to a distant light. The light grew brighter the closer I got to it.

Leonard stood frozen, his mouth agape, struggling to process the words that had just tumbled out of Alexa’s mouth. The soft light in the dim room cast a warm glow on her face, but it only heightened the chill that crept up his spine. “Supernatural being?” he repeated incredulously, his mind racing.

He whispered against my ear. A shiver of excitement ran through me which immediately released my hold on him. “Good girl.” He whispered before kissing my neck. I drifted off to sleep before Damian returned. Small waves lapped against the sand as I stood watching them. The sound of wildlife around me filled my ears. The waves swooshed louder and became bigger. Quickly swishing passed my ankles and sent ice cold waves through me. I tried to back away but I was held in place. The sand was swallowing up my feet and holding me in place. I tried to thrash and pull my way out, but I couldn’t move. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. As soon as my eyes closed, the sand released me and the crash

The symbol carved there made my stomach clench: a crescent moon split by a straight line, the same mark on my mother’s gate-stone. The rock warmed under his hand. The fissure widened. Not breaking—opening. A narrow passage yawned into the earth, lit by dim amber lines that ran through the stone like veins. “What is this?” I whispered. “Sanctuary,” Dax said. “For the unwanted. For the dangerous.” My pendant pulsed hard, answering the stone like they were speaking to each other. Heat poured into my palm. The amber lines brightened. Dax noticed and his jaw tightened. “Don’t feed it.”

The pale morning light filtered through the blinds of Sam's apartment, but the room still carried the weight of the previous night. Andreas woke with a heaviness on his ribs, only to realize that Sam’s arm—broad, warm, and possessive—acted like a manacle of flesh and bone. The bite on his shoulder throbbed, a rhythmic pulse serving as a constant reminder that he had been claimed by something not entirely human. Before Andreas could even sit up, Sam stirred, his amber eyes opening instantly, already laden with a predatory lucidity.