Silent Night Ringtone Novels & Stories

Selene Blackthorn (POV) The sound of my ringtone tore through the grave silence that had settled over the four walls of my room. The table vibrated as the phone rang, eyeing it with the corner of my green eyes. Looks like the call I have been anticipating for has finally come through.

I am leaving it with everything I am owed. Sixteen words. Three years of silence had given those sixteen words a weight that a thousand casual sentences never could have managed. She filed that away. Silence, she had learned, was not merely the absence of noise. It was compression. Everything unsaid building pressure behind a single, chosen moment. Dawn found her at the edge of a shallow valley. Below, a dirt road cut east to west unpaved, unmarked, the kind that didn't appear on official territory maps because it predated most of the current pack boundaries by a generation or more.

Bathed in sweat, Alissa woke up from sleep. Immediately she sat upright in bed, her heart beat to her chest and she quickly switched on the light. Immediately she calmed down when she saw the familiar bedroom, and Hannah, too, continued to sleep peacefully. Alissa got up and went into the bathroom to wash her face. When she came back she checked her watch. It was now four thirty. She doubted she would go back to sleep. She didn't even want to go back to sleep for fear of being haunted by nightmares again. Actually, she hadn't had nightmares for a long time, but now that she had told Hannah a bit about her past, everything had come up again. She quickly put on jeans and a sweater and left the

The silence in my room was the kind of quiet that made your ears ring, like it was taunting you with everything you didn’t want to hear. I paced back and forth, my boots scuffing against the hardwood floor, the weight of my phone in my pocket unbearable. I’d called her so many times I lost count. It always went straight to voicemail. Not once did it even ring. I’d replayed the sound of her voice in that automated message so many times it was branded in my mind: "Hey, this is Quinn. Leave a message, or don’t. Whatever."

Lucienne was my mate, my partner, and with her by my side, I felt ready to take on anything. Lucienne had fallen asleep beside me, her breathing deep and even. The evening had been perfect, and seeing her so relaxed and content made me feel incredibly satisfied. I watched her for a moment, brushing a strand of hair from her face, before gently slipping out of bed, not wanting to disturb her. As I moved into the other room, my phone buzzed quietly on the nightstand. I picked it up, noting the caller ID—Nicholas, my beta. “Hey, Nicholas,” I greeted him softly, keeping my voice low to avoid waking Lucienne.

He kept moving, heart thudding with every step. Finally, he called the Silvermoon Patrol for help. They launched a search immediately, combing the forest and surrounding restaurants, searching all night. Nothing. Not a single trace of me. As Philip questioned the patrol, one of the patrollers handed him something small. "We found this in the woods." Philip snatched it from the man's hand and froze. It was the custom-made marking ring he had given me, with both our names engraved inside. "We believe Ms. Grace might have been taken by rogue wolves," said the patroller carefully.

Again, a long silence lingered over the room until the ringtone of a phone tore through the silence. John answered the call and put the phone to his ear.

Slowly, Braylon's eyelids grew heavy, and he drifted off to sleep. Braylon's sleep was shattered by the sudden chime of his mobile phone. The screen displayed an unknown number. The ringing sound had disturbed Braylon's sleep. He awoke with a start. Who could it be at this hour? Braylon was baffled as He answered the call, "Hello?" The voice on the other end was distorted and mechanical. It was a voice Braylon did not recognize, and it sent a shiver down his spine. "Braylon," the voice said, "Are you mourning over your son? Tsk tsk tsk? That's so sad."

The church bells in the distance chimed twelve times, each heavy toll echoing in the silent night. For the first five minutes, nothing happened. I started to wonder if NocturneNotes was just messing with me, like the other Redditors. Then, in the seventh minute, I heard it. A faint, tiny sound. Crunch. Like something biting into something hard. The sound was coming from the red gift box. I held my breath, staring at the tree. The gift box was swaying slightly on its branch, and the swaying was getting stronger. Crunch, crunch.

His thumb hovered over Serena’s number—the one he had managed to find through a contact who owed him a favor. He could call. Demand answers. Insist on seeing his children. Instead, he typed a single message: We need to talk. Tomorrow. ** On the other side of the city, Serena sat in the dim glow of her small kitchen, her hands curled around a cup of tea gone cold. The triplets were asleep in the next room, their soft breathing the only sound keeping her anchored. Her phone buzzed. She didn’t need to see the name to know who it was—his presence seemed to carry through even in silence. She read the message once, then twice.