Novel & Cerita Shadows By Sabrina Carpenter

But as I walked away visibly emotionless, I couldn’t shake the image of the woman in the scarf, sitting in the shadows, watching me like she already knew me. And I had no idea that she was about to change everything.

I hold my breath, completely surrendering myself to the rapidly approaching embrace of total darkness. "Miss Raegan, I forgot the—Miss Raegan, no!" Before the iron can tear into my skin, a frantic force crashes into my arm, violently striking my wrist. The heavy nail is knocked from my grip, sending it clattering loudly across the tile floor. A barrage of high-pitched, panicked screams echoes through the small bathroom, but my mind goes completely, utterly blank.

One more lie had been erased. He walked to the back of Marcus’s SUV and used a finger to write in the layer of canyon dust on the rear window: SILENCE. He then took the laminated card—the same design as the one left for Julian—and placed it in Marcus’s lifeless hand. The silk has been cut. The Shadow’s Return Silas climbed back up the ridge, disappearing into the scrub brush as the first hints of a cold, grey dawn began to bleed over the horizon. He moved with the same deliberate, unhurried pace.

“She told me that I would want to give up. That others would try to dim the light in me. That I’d be called names. ‘Shadow. Curse. Ghost.’ She said all of that. As if she knew.” Ryker didn’t move, barely breathed. Trixie lifted her eyes. “But she said, ‘You are not a shadow. You are not my ghost. You are my dawn. My blood. The fire they’ll never tame.’” Her lips trembled. “And then she kissed my forehead. She bled on my ribbon. And she whispered, ‘Wait for the light. Be the light, if it never comes.’” Tears slid down her cheeks. “And then she was gone.”

A low hum vibrated beneath my palms — soft at first, like the purr of distant thunder, then stronger, deeper, alive. My breath hitched as I lifted my head. Around me, the darkness moved. Shadows. Dozens of them. They weren’t still — they rippled, stretched, reached toward me like strands of liquid night. The moonlight bent around them as if afraid to touch them. I froze, my instincts screaming to run — but my body refused to move. The shadows circled me, swirling like smoke caught in a silent wind, and then — slowly — they drew closer. My tears caught in my throat as I watched one of them hover near my hand, brushing against my skin like a whisper.

a voice said from the shadows near the door. ​I jumped, the golden light around me turning into a jagged aura of protection. I looked toward the corner, and I saw a woman stepping out of the darkness. She was tall, with hair the color of midnight and eyes that looked like swirling galaxies. She was wearing a dress of woven starlight that seemed to shift and change as she moved. ​"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice echoing with the Alpha’s authority. "How did you get past the guards?" ​The woman smiled, a sad, knowing expression. "The guards cannot see what the shadows do not wish them to see, Winifred. I am the one who wrote the book you found in the archive. I am the First Shadow."

"You really do not remember, do you? Seven years working beside you. Seven years of loyalty. And you do not even remember what you took from me." "What did I take?" "My sister." The words were razors. "Rebecca. Rebecca Hale. You knew her as Rebecca Winters. The woman you claimed was unstable. The woman you had committed. The woman whose life you destroyed because she made the mistake of falling in love with you." The room went silent. "Rebecca Winters is your sister?" I whispered.

Fear sharpens into fury, molten and blinding. I reach. Not with hands. With instinct. With that strange internal pull that drags me into shadows night after night without permission. The darkness beneath my feet answers. Not violently. Not chaotically. It opens. Like a mouth welcoming breath. Like a path recognizing its traveler. The shadows gripping my legs falter. Just for a second. But one second is enough. I step. Not forward. Down. Into the shadow beneath me. The world snaps sideways. Sound tears apart into jagged fragments.

“You thought you could escape? The game has only begun.” --- The Shadows Strike The library was plunged into darkness. Anna felt the book in her hands grow heavier, its leather cover vibrating faintly. “Stay close!” she shouted, but her voice was swallowed by the oppressive silence. A faint glow emerged from the shelves, revealing twisted figures with hollow eyes and jagged grins. They moved unnaturally, their bodies bending and snapping as they approached. “Run!” Logan yelled, grabbing Sophia’s hand.The group scattered, their footsteps pounding against the floor. Anna held onto the journal tightly, her mind racing. The book and mirror weren’t just cursed—they were anchors for the shadows.

The quiet thickens again, this time not as a blanket, but a web. Caitlyn snarls. Her eyes go black and stay that way. She raises both hands, and darkness comes up off the seams of the shadows like they’re trying to be rope. “Shadows,” I whisper into the small silver thread in my ear. “Help.” ‘Okay,’ Tara says, brilliant and solemn. The roof shadows move. Not big. Not showy. They just decide they’re busy elsewhere. Caitlyn’s hands close on nothing. “Who?” Caitlyn hisses, scenting a child she cannot see.