Shadows House Emilico Novels & Stories

Lucky there’s nothing deep needing stitches. In my grieving and broken state, I begin to feel faint. I let myself go and pass out. Opening my eyes I feel myself transported into another realm. Standing in front of me is my grandmother’s house which stands in front of a looming property which I dare not go near. The “LeFleur” mansion. A place said to belong to my ancestors from centuries ago. A place that continues to haunt my dreams since a child. Something about this place calls to my soul, it pulls me and begs me to return. The house stands in the Normandy countryside. She feels it in the wind and air, she feels it in the depths of the earth, it’s as if a spirit like a piece of me is locke

Creating plausible deniability for when he inevitably destroyed me. "Where is Ethan?" I forced the words out. "Here." A new voice. Male. Familiar. Marcus emerged from the shadows, pushing a wheelchair. Ethan sat in it, looking pale but unharmed. "Hart?" Ethan's voice was confused. "What is happening? This man said you needed me. That it was an emergency." "Marcus." I stared at Declan's former lawyer. "You are working with them?" "I have always been working with them." He moved to stand beside Camilla. "Or more accurately, they have been working with me."

Willow applied pressure to her arm with a piece of paper while Roy gripped the steering wheel tight, his knuckles white. Sierra’s call came in halfway down the road, and she sounded panicky. “Roy, the candle we lit for Melanie in the church is flickering for no reason. I think it’s about to go out. Can you check it out? I’m worried.” Roy slammed the brakes and replied, “I’m heading back. We’re not traveling down the mountain tonight.” Observing the anguish look on Willow’s face, Roy changed his mind. He saw no reason to let Willow have her way.

The English Coast,1794 Mathilda sat on the beach, as Tobias, Mary and Magnus disappeared from her view. She breathed a sigh of relief that the abominable visit was finally over and done with and stretched her arms heavenwards as clouds slowly drifted across the full moon. It was impossible not to be enraged, not after having had to endure the murderer’s presence in her home. How could her husband and daughter not see the evil within him? If she did not know any better, she would have sworn that Magnus himself had charmed them with the old ways, the very thing he was so forcefully trying to eradicate.

Ancient runes etched into its facade pulsed faintly, their protective power a silent shield against the sinister energy the group battled mere minutes ago. The memory of the grotesque creature, its red eyes and smoky aura, haunted them - a stark reminder of the Nightshade Pack’s dark influence. Alpha Mikhail Silverclaw led the team, his commanding presence steadying the group after their harrowing encounter. His amber eyes, still sharp with the intensity of their forest skirmish, met those of Alpha Damien Bloodmoon, who stood in the foyer of the pack house studying the group.

But the more I pulled, the more complicated everything became. At midnight, my phone buzzed again. *“The mirror shows what’s hidden. Look closer.”* I glanced at my reflection in the windowpane. The woman staring back at me was pale and exhausted, but her eyes burned with a quiet determination. Slowly, I moved closer, finger trailing the cold glass. And then I saw it — a flicker, subtle but unmistakable. A shadow moving just behind my reflection, a shape that didn’t belong. My heart skipped. ---