Silent Eyes Novels & Stories

Neither approach had worked. Because neither had stayed. Neither had remained beside it when the pain surfaced. The eye trembled. The darkness convulsed. Fragments of memory erupted across the horizon. A silver field. Ancient laughter. Hands reaching toward one another. A solitary figure standing at the edge of the gathering. Watching. Waiting. Wanting. The memory sharpened. Closer. Closer. A voice echoed through the vision. Warm. Gentle. Calling to someone. Calling a name. The Silence recoiled violently.

Gloss POV The silence between Dream and me had grown different lately. It wasn’t tense anymore. It wasn’t that sharp-edged quiet filled with judgment or indifference. It was soft, like the air right before dawn, when the world feels safe for a heartbeat. The kind of silence that made me forget who I was supposed to be, his employee, his assistant, his mission-driven shadow, and remember only that I was someone he looked at now and didn’t immediately turn away from.

Bubbles curls beside me, her heartbeat steady against my palm. Somewhere in the distance, I think I hear Silen singing again. It sounds low and mournful, but beautiful. A siren song meant for no one. It drifts through the walls like a promise. And for the first time in days, I sleep.

The house was quiet in a way that felt intentional. Not peaceful. Not calm. Curated. Jordan Elaine stood at the kitchen sink, fingers wrapped around the porcelain edge, staring at her reflection in the darkened window. Outside, the city glowed faintly, and distant headlights, muted sirens, the hum of a world that never slept. Inside, there was only silence. The kind that pressed against her chest until breathing felt like effort. She had learned, over time, not to fill it.

The baby cried again. A thin, desperate sound that seemed to travel through the walls. Zara stood frozen. For a moment, her mind refused to accept what she was hearing. There was no baby here. There couldn’t be. Yet the cry came again. Closer. Louder. Adrian reached for her hand. “Zara.” She barely heard him. “That sounds like me.” Nobody corrected her. Because everyone in the room knew it. The same frightened cry. The same sharp, breathless rhythm.

She watched as the eyelid fluttered open, slowly, like a broken shutter pushed open by the wind. The eye beneath was bloodshot, heavy with sedation, but it focused, on her. They stared at each other. No words. No smiles. Just a locked silence so loud, it roared between them. She didn’t speak. Not yet. And neither did he. But as her fingers tightened around the edge of the clipboard she held, a slow, almost imperceptible curve formed on her lips. Not joy. Not relief. But knowing. Intention. She whispered low, barely audible, almost like an exhale. “Not yet…”

The air in the living room felt like it had been turned into stone. Silas Hale stood by the open door while the rain misted behind him like a silver curtain; he didn’t look like a man who was almost a hundred years old. Instead, he resembled a statue made of ancient wood: thin, hard, and impossible to break. His eyes were not like Jason’s, for Jason’s eyes were full of heat and anger, whereas Silas’s eyes were like two pieces of glass at the bottom of a frozen lake. They saw everything, but they felt nothing.

“You like it, baby? You like how my cock thrusts into you? Tell me you like it.” Tears slipped from the corners of Elara’s eyes and tracked into her hair. The moans she released were pleasureless, automatic, the sounds a body made when it had learned that silence could be more dangerous than compliance. Her mind detached and drifted backward through the wreckage of the day and the years that had led here.

“This work is not about strength. Strength without sense gets you killed quickly. This is about silence, stillness, and seeing what others miss.” Sylvie stepped forward without a word. One moment she stood in plain view; the next she had blended into the deep shadow along the wall, dark clothes merging with the stone. A few recruits exhaled in surprise. Her voice drifted from the gloom, calm and precise. “First lesson. All of you, look toward my voice. Tell me exactly what you see.” They squinted into the darkness. Rylan spoke first. “A shadow. Maybe part of the wall.”

I looked up to see him still staring then I tried to take my eyes off him but he wouldn't let me, he turned my face to him and slowly put his lips on mine, I wanted to push him, I wanted to yell at him but I couldn't do anything then I finally give in, I relaxed and let him have his way, then the most strange thing happened his thoughts almost explode my brain, I could hear it loud and clear now. 'I love you Natalie right from the first day I met you, every day the feelings grow I just couldn't take my eyes off you, and I want to always be with you' damn, I thought as I heard his silent confession which I wish he had said out loud instead of saying it with his thoughts, the shutter of a phon