Silent Night Book Novels & Stories

Pages of books turned over by themselves with a rustling sound that cut the silence. "Siron..." Kit whispered. "I know." The neon light above their heads flickered once, twice. Then died completely, leaving them in darkness. Only the green emergency light on the floor provided minimal illumination. Thump. The sound came from the shelf next to their right. A thick book fell by itself onto the floor, open. Then followed another, and another, as if an invisible hand was throwing them one by one. "We have to go," Kit hissed, grabbing Siron's arm.

He just sighed and shook his head at Mom. … Mom hadn't slept in two days. She had done everything on her own. My body was placed in a wooden crate and buried beneath the largest tree in the forest. Mom sat against the tree trunk, staring dazedly at the patch of earth where I had been buried. She only went home when it got dark. Her eyes were swollen from crying as she lay on the bed. She lay there without moving an inch, like my body that had been sealed inside that wooden crate. I hovered beside her and tried to pat her back, the way she had always put me to sleep. However, my hand went right through her body.

Chapter 24 – Guilty Third persons pov He couldn't take it anymore cursing under his breath he got up from his bed and walk towards where he left haya, he unlocked the suite and entered in, he was welcomed by the silence, suddenly a fear ran down his spine and shivered thinking of all the unwanted things which could have happened, getting rid of it, he walked towards the room and found his wife lying on the cold floor unconscious.

Of course a big fight was going to ensue with Sampson and Odessa winning and living happily ever after. The Beautiful Silence- Jocelyn was finally going to break though Lola's locked memories and find where Gunner was hiding. Since her memories would be unlocked Lola was able to return to her normal life with her second chance mate, Paul. They finally track down Gunner and destroy him. Trinity goes back with Antonio and Lorenzo to their pack and Jocelyn becomes Luna of Quinton's pack.

11-BEING HIM Athena woke up in an unfamiliar room, her senses immediately assaulted by an eerie silence. She lay there quietly, keeping her eyes closed, trying to gather her bearings. The beeping of the machines that surrounded the bed matched her breaths, the only indications of her heartbeat, her existence in this strange place.

She snuggled deeper into the pleasant warmth, sighing, and the sound of her own breath startled her. No noise. No blaring music or chattering television, even though she couldn’t sleep – could hardly function – without them. Livia’s eyes snapped open and she waited for the psychic assault to hit her. But there was only silence. Dear Lord. Seconds passed, then a full minute or more … and there was only blessed, wondrous silence.

She didn’t know then that some silences weren’t empty. They were waiting. Waiting for the moment they could break everything open.

I fall. Frozen upright in the dark, sheets glued to skin by damp chill - Wingknight Manor silent around me. Breath caught like broken glass mid-swallow. That plunge through empty air? Still humming beneath bone. Silence bites harder than sound ever could. Darkness hangs above. The word Lillian repeats inside my head, mixed with the soft pressure of a hand against me. Sleep won’t come back tonight. Over and over and over.

I whisper. Dust is drifting through the small gap in the moonlight going through the blinds. It snatches on her hair, her eyelashes, the wobbling upsurge of her shoulders. She attempts to breathe silently, although to my ears each trembling intake of breath seems like a scream. Rylan steps somewhere past the room, with his pistol up, not making a sound and being on his guard. But his outline too sinks in the dark. The silence becomes so heavy, almost like a wire that is about to break.

"Loud. Yes." She understood that. The way silence could be louder than sound when you were inside your own head at two in the morning. They sat without speaking for a while. The cold was sharp and clean and the stars were enormous and the compound breathed around them in its deep-night rhythm. She had found, across the weeks of learning the Iron Veil's sounds, that the night rhythm was the most honest one — the pack unguarded, the social performance of the day collapsed into the simple animal fact of sleep and breath.