Silence Of Heart Novels & Stories

It was the only way he could rid of his raging emotions when it comes to the other boy. Kinsley being unable to link with the pack became the biggest disappointment to Skylar, unbeknownst to the boy in question. They shared the same birthday. That midnight of Kinsley’s twelfth birthday, Skylar was there, somewhere. He knew before that he couldn't communicate with anyone in the pack through the link but that night, he wished he would be able to once he achieved his primal shift.

Amy burst through the cabin door with a loud bang, startling Mr. Silvester immediately looked up from his desk. His secretary stood behind Amy, her face flushed and her hands wringing nervously, unable to stop Amy from intruding into the CEO's office. With a wave, Mr Silvester signalled for his secretary to leave them alone. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded and quietly closed the door behind her, leaving the two of them in the room. Mr. Silvester calmly gazed at Amy's angry face. She stood there, her fists clenched at her sides, her eyes blazing with fury. “How could you do this?” she shouted, her voice echoing in the spacious office. “You just broke off the merger without any warning

“ Meara!” The whispers started again, soft but notable. I tensed, my eyes snapping open. I scanned the field, but there was no one in sight. The sound seemed to come from the tree itself, from the rustling of its leaves. I pressed my palms against the rough bark and closed my eyes, focusing on the whispers. " Come... find... me..." The words were faint but distinct. My heart raced. Was I losing my mind, or was there something more to these whispers? I stood up, brushing the dirt off my jeans, and took a few steps back. The whispers grew louder, more insistent.

Gasps spilled through the bond, dozens of minds recoiling as the echo of his absence rang hollow. One by one, minds folded. The black threads blinked out like dying stars, until nothing remained but the echo of my heartbeat thrumming across miles of newborn silence. I swayed beneath the weight. We see. We yield. I exhaled. The third eye dimmed to a slow, aching pulse, and the terrible quiet of a thousand minds suddenly still sent me reeling. The silence that followed was monstrous. So loud it pressed against my eardrums like a living thing, and then the eclipse lifted, revealing a blood moon.

No reality collapsed under the weight of choice. Just silence. And something dangerously close to peace. The Heart didn’t end. It continued.

Her gentleness, her quiet resilience, that's what he fell for without realizing it. But as he looked into her clear, detached eyes, he could not bring himself to say a word. Because it was clear. She no longer cared about love or heartbreak.

​The silence of the cell was absolute, a heavy and suffocating weight that felt like it was pressing the very air out of my lungs. I lay on the cold, sterile floor, Silas’s parting words echoing in my mind like a rhythmic drumbeat. Stop my heart. It was a classic Sovereign technique—the "Death-Sleep" used by the ancient queens of the North to survive the Great Frost or to hide their presence from trackers. But it required a level of internal control and mental stillness that I had never truly mastered. I had always been the fire, the storm, and the explosion. I didn't know how to be the still, frozen lake beneath the ice.

He sat in the steaming turquoise pool, holding me in his lap as the heat began to slowly thaw the ice in my bones. "You're not going back to the Archive," he said, his gaze fixed on the steam rising from the water. "And you're not training alone again. If you want to touch the Silence, you do it while you're looking into my eyes. Because if you go back to that place... if you let your heart stop again... I won't be able to bring you back next time." I leaned my head against his chest, listening to the thunderous, steady rhythm of his heart. It was so much louder than mine. So much stronger.

POV ESMERAY Silence is never truly silent. After an explosion of that magnitude, the world doesn't just go quiet; it rings with a high, piercing frequency that feels like a needle driven into the brain. It’s the sound of the soul trying to find its way back into a battered body.

She longed for the chaos of conversation, the rhythm of communication, yet the emptiness remained, heavy and suffocating. It was in the quiet of one particularly lonely evening, rain pattering against the window, that Amara finally understood the truth. Silence was not neutral. Silence was a force, a pressure that demanded action. It was not the absence of words, but the presence of a choice deferred, a mirror held up to the heart, forcing her to confront what she truly wanted.