Shadows In Durango Novels & Stories

The Bloodmoon Pack’s territory pulsed with an uneasy stillness as the group moved deeper into its forest, the towering pack house a distant silhouette against the pre-dawn sky. The first rays of dawn struggled to pierce the dense canopy, casting faint golden streaks across the earth. Aurora Wildheart’s jet-black wolf form glided through the underbrush, her silver eyes gleaming with heightened awareness. The sinister energy she, Maya, and Kira had sensed upon entering the territory—a cold, clawing presence—surged stronger now, wrapping around her like a suffocating mist. The mission to uncover the Nightshade Pack’s secrets had taken on a visceral urgency, and the forest itself seemed to hum w

It worked on a few of the younger Toten, but not for Anders. The Schatten were able to pick off about ten of the Toten as they backed away from the castle heading towards the river. They took one into custody and placed him in a circle of containment, where he could not shift into his shadow form. The Toten didn't have real Schatten forms; their shadows were weaker and more visible to the human eye. The fighting continued for hours, as each side gained some ground. Daan cast that one of the security guards went down; lost his head. Literally!

But she stayed upright through sheer stubbornness. Through pure rage, that filled her chest. She couldn't die here. She wouldn't. She had to move. Had to find shelter. Had to survive. In the rogue territories, staying in one place meant death. Rogues were territorial. Dangerous. They'd kill for her boots. For her clothes. For nothing at all except the pleasure of it. Lyra stumbled through the forest, not knowing where she was going. Not caring. Every step hurt deep into her bones.

Shadow Wielders Institute of Knowledge changed dramatically the night after Dark paid a visit. Not only had he been able to kill a lot of Shadowests, but he was also able to freeze most of them. Michelle would never forget the terror Dark had left. When her shadow saved her, she was able to spot the spears hitting all over the field, freezing even the meadows. It’s as though the thunders were probing the spears to do more damage as it groaned ever loudly.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a soft, golden hue over the sprawling grounds of New Moon Academy. The castle-like estate loomed majestically, its turrets piercing the clouds, while ivy clung to the stone walls like a protective embrace. Charlie Hale stood at the entrance, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Today marked a new beginning, a chance to leave behind the shadows of her past.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the rugged landscape, Anderson and his cohorts huddled together in the dim light of their campfire. The flickering flames illuminated their faces, casting eerie shadows that danced across the rocky walls of the canyon. "We need to take them out," Anderson growled, his voice low and menacing. "They're getting too close to uncovering our plans. We can't let them interfere."

"I'm not doing this intentionally." "Intent matters less than result." She pointed to the window where aurora borealis danced impossibly over Phoenix. "The northern lights don't belong here. Neither do the shadow migrations." She was right. Dark shapes moved across the sky, too large to be birds, wrong-angled to be planes. They bled in and out of visibility as realm barriers flickered like failing lights. "Incoming!" Sarah materialized through a wall, her Bridge nature letting her skip physical space. "Shadow entities converging on seventeen packs. They're hunting something."

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

She was already injured and now instead of spending last night with her, I'm deep in the forest of Colorado hunting for a monster. Shadow has been howling in my head on and off for the past twenty-four hours that we need to go back and make sure she's okay, but I keep reminding him that we have a job to do. How can we be okay returning to her knowing that her father can try to kill her again at any time since he freed himself? While Ameer and I hide within a clump of trees with thick underbrush, Dusk and Rubeus perch in the trees above us. They haven't spoken a word all night, at least not to us. Who knows if they're mind-linking between one another.

The other, one with the disguise of a painted face, gripped her shoulder. “Look,” red lips whispered from the white-painted face. “Look at it.” The shadows stared at it, motionless, until Dominguez held the thing up and delivered it into their arms. “I need a moment,” Dominguez faltered. “Just a moment.” He stood and ambled with slow steps to accompany them toward the gates. Anne’s eyes opened a fraction to witness their departure. Old Dominguez and the shadows fled toward the gates. Anne drew on a faint memory of the old tales of Marion Cemetery. Yes, she knew of those faded stories of the shadows as Damon had known of them, but she had never seen the cemetery shadows for herself until this