Silent Spring Audiobook Novels & Stories

I came up to Silas and stood next to him. My eyes wandered over each of their faces, searching for my mate. Soon my eyes landed on a pair of chocolate brown eyes and my heart stopped. Mate. My eyes widened and my lips parted as I stared at her in awe. It felt like everyone in the room wasn't there anymore. Silas wasn't next to me anymore. The whispering vanished. All of the seats were empty. The only things between us were the chairs. I needed to change that. I didn't waste another second of standing there upon the stage. I jumped down, creating a soft thud when my feet hit the floor. I heard some murmurs as I made my way up the middle aisle. My footsteps were light and they created no sound

I waited until you chose to leave on your own. His voice was calm. "Now, you have. "So, I came to take you away." Outside the window, the lights of Palemore grew further and further away. I did not cry. I just watched the city fade away in the rearview mirror. Quietly, in my heart, I said, ‘Goodbye, Sicelia.’ Goodbye to everyone who never loved me.

If this humble book made you happy, sad, scared, or any other feelings even just for a second or if it taught you anything in life just a little bit, then it has served its purpose. SILENT CRY....now signing off. 💖

She looked at Elara and saw only a stranger with a sword. “The mind is a noisy place,” a voice whispered—not in her ears, but in the marrow of her bones. “I am the peace you never asked for. I am the end of the song.” Audrey clutched her head. The "Silence" was a psychic predator. It was eating the connections between thoughts. It was eating the bond. She looked at the silver statue of her husband. If she couldn't reach him, if she couldn't find the "vibration" of his soul, he would remain a monument in a dead land forever.

Seren only went quiet when she was holding the weight of too many futures at once. I stayed half a step behind her, eyes sweeping the undergrowth, ears tuned for anything that did not belong. Without the Thread, instincts felt sharper, less filtered. Every snapped twig sounded like a decision being made somewhere far away. Silas brought up the rear. “You feel it too,” he muttered to me. “Yes,” I said. “The world is louder.” “No,” he corrected. “The world is unmuted.” We crossed a narrow stream just as the sky began to pale. Dawn crept in slowly, cautious, as if unsure it was still welcome. Mist clung to the water, curling around our boots.

I said. The silence that enveloped the Astropheles was a new kind of silence. It wasn't the tense hush of hiding, the profound void of the Stillness, or the grim quiet of a battlefield after the fight. This was a deep, resonant, and utterly peaceful silence. The silence of a story that had reached its natural, satisfying conclusion. The universe hummed along without us, a symphony of self-sustaining narratives, and we were finally, truly, audience members.

When I saw the happy smile on Mom's face, I suddenly felt myself becoming lighter. I gently caressed her smiling, happy face, and I silently gave her my best wishes. "Mom, you have to be happy forever!" A crystal-clear tear slid slowly down Mom's cheek and fell into my palm. However, my body soon began to become as transparent as the teardrop itself, until I finally disappeared into the air.

*****************************POV: Claire********************** --- There’s a certain kind of silence that doesn’t feel safe. Not the comfortable, blanket-wrapped kind that comes after a long day. Not the sweet, post-rain hush where everything smells like earth and renewal. No, this silence is sharp. Like a knife held just out of view. And that morning, it followed me.

I stood still in the center of the abandoned village, its silence louder than any scream. "Is anyone here?!" I cried out, my voice sharp and panicked, echoing across the empty space. Nothing. Time had stopped. The rain had ceased, frozen mid-fall, and darkness crept in from all directions, heavy and unnatural. Then—footsteps. Soft, cautious, like someone trying not to wake a sleeping thought. "Devin?"

Sandino: “Money buys a lot of silence. That’s the real flex.” Inside the penthouse the silence was not bought so much as enforced. Two floors down, Raphaël lay awake longer than he should have, the memory of her weight on his lap and the soft sound of her frustrated hiss replaying against his better judgment. He had made the only choice that kept him employed and breathing. He still whispered the same three words into the dark.