Silent Night Author Novels & Stories

17 VIKTOR The silence between us was thick with something unspoken. Sabrina sat across from me, her eyes avoiding mine, her fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt. She hadn’t spoken much since the mission, and that was fine. I didn’t need her words, not yet. She was mine, even when she wasn’t fully aware of it. I leaned back in my chair, watching her. The weight of the world seemed to press on her delicate frame. She was unraveling, slowly but surely. Good. That was exactly how I wanted her.

Still, I said comfortingly to her, "Mom, don't be sad anymore. I can't keep you company anymore, but you have to be happy." The wind ruffled Mom's hair like the caresses I used to give her. She looked up, her eyes red and swollen. "Ray, you're still so young, and you've always been afraid of the dark. You never dared to sleep alone, but now you have to sleep by yourself in the icy cold under the ground. Are you afraid? "It's all my fault. I let you come to harm. I should have just left with you from the beginning instead of staying and trying to get your father's love by force."

In one place, there was thunder and lightning, while in another, the night sky was clear with starlight. With the thunder rumbling and my heart beating far too fast, I collapsed inside my own closet.

she whispered. “I don’t either,” Henry replied, voice cracking. They stood facing each other, two broken hearts bound by the same ghost. Outside, the last ray of sunlight faded, leaving the room in twilight. And in that twilight, a new silence settled between them, one heavier, deeper, and more intimate than ever before. The silence between two hearts. Elena suddenly remember how she dead!

They need to be true and timed. I close my eyes and let other people’s silence rise into mine. Behind the wall, Lena turns in her sleep, murmurs once, then settles. In the hall, Elise’s tread—light, even—makes its patrol past the clinic door. Somewhere below, Marco’s keyboard ticks once; he can’t stop himself from adjusting lines of code that are already perfect. Leo’s laugh—quiet, private—strikes like a struck match and goes out again. On the far end, Jennifer’s door closes, not a slam, not a whisper. Something measured. And Victor—his silence arrives last, heavy and precise, the kind of quiet that doesn’t ask permission to be a room. I feel myself reaching for it like a railing, then pulli

They slept, and woke when the river asked them to, and the city refused to be improved by instruments it had not asked for. Silas stood at his window and practiced not saying names aloud. He would have to build something quieter yet—something that didn’t need sound, ink, or night. Something like a habit. The thought pleased him. He slept with the relief of men in love with their own patience. The lighthouse blinked white. The square held chairs. The paper printed oil and onions. The hinge welcomed morning with a small sound that meant, in its language, Proceed.

I mean I know where everything is. Even in the dark? Even in the dark. That's what I've been trying to tell you. I know. She set the phone down. The room was quiet. The street below was quiet. She didn't turn on the light. She closed her eyes.

I just lay there in the dark, eyes open, and listened to the silence. Sleep eventually came for me, however, and I did not remember the exact moment I surrendered to it. One second, I lay there staring into the darkness, and the next, my thoughts blurred and drifted. For a while, there was nothing, no guilt, no memories, and no fear… until the faint sound of the front door opening sliced through my sleep. My eyes flew open. And it took me a heartbeat to understand what had woken me as the soft click of the latch echoed in the quiet like a bullet shot, followed by the dreadful scent.

The same mark of the ancient Guild of Authors. But beneath it... another symbol had been added. A black circle. The First Reader's face turned completely pale. "No..." "An Author has joined the Silence." The lighthouse door slowly opened on its own. Darkness poured out like smoke. Then... a calm voice drifted across the empty shore. "I've been waiting for the next chapter..." "...Adrian." The White Book closed by itself. Its cover changed once more. Only four words remained, glowing in silver. THE SILENCE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING.

Sending love and well wishes to you all xx A trail of water dripped behind Bellamy as he emerged from the shower, a towel hung loosely around his waist as he ruffled another towel through his now damp curls. “Whatcha reading gorgeous?” he nodded to Thea. Placing an intricately carved silver bookmark in between the pages, she placed her book down on the bedside table. Letting out a contented sigh, she stretched her arms and legs out on the bed. “It’s called ‘Her Fae Lovers’ by one of my favourite authors, Jane Knight.” A sleepy smile danced across her face as she dragged her eyes over Bellamy’s wet, exposed torso. Little pearls of water clung to his taught, tanned skin making him glisten unde