Silo Audiobook Novels & Stories

They burned with a blue fire that seemed to be eating him from the inside. He was not looking at the adults. He was looking at Kieran. “The song,” Silas said in a dry voice. “The last pure note. I can hear it through the stone and the silence.” He took a step closer. “You took everything. My power. My future. You left me with only this… this bad noise.”

He wasn't looking at the locked iron doors. He was looking at his inner circle. "The doors are sealed," Silas whispered. His voice didn't boom. It didn't vibrate with the tectonic rumble of the Alpha command. It was a hollow, razor-thin sound, stripped entirely of its usual terrifying warmth. It was the sound of a King realizing his fortress was made of glass.

--- The Impossible Choice Silence crashed over everything. --- Even the wind seemed to still. --- “Absolutely not,” Silas said. --- But his voice felt… distant. --- Because all I could hear— Was that word. --- Help. --- Still echoing. Still there. --- “They’re suffering,” I said. --- “I know,” Silas replied. --- “And I can reach them.” --- “At a cost,” he said sharply. --- “I don’t even know what the cost is!” --- “I do,” he snapped. --- That stopped me.

His eyes narrowed immediately. “Lauren. What the hell are you doing down here?” “Shut up and listen,” I snapped, keeping my voice low. I pulled out the small speaker I’d grabbed and hit play. Serena’s drunk, angry, terrified voice spilled into the small space. Silas went completely still. When the part about Vivian and bleeding Julian dry came up, his jaw tightened. He didn’t speak until the recording ended. “Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “She was in deeper than I thought.”

“The Sun Claw pack is excellent at tactical drills. They are fast, but they lack the patience for a long hunt.” The voice was low, cool, and came from the shadows between two massive bookcases. I nearly jumped, my heart hammering against my ribs as Silas stepped into the light. He looked as composed as ever, his dark hair slightly tousled, his expression unreadable, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that suggested he had been observing me for some time. “Silas,” I breathed, trying to steady my racing pulse. “You startled me. How long have you been standing there?”

had finally retired from the war, even if they still carried the scars of the front lines. "You’re doing it again," Silas said, detaching himself from the conversation to join me. He wrapped a heavy, warm arm around my shoulders, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw with a familiarity that never failed to settle the chaos in my chest. "You’re auditing the horizon, Willa. Looking for the one spot where the paint hasn't reached yet."

in the back of my mind. Before I could answer, a group of Loyalists emerged from the dense fog at the edge of the ward. They were led by Sila, a young female wolf who had once looked at me with hero-worship. Now, she was carrying her young pup, whose fur was matted with a strange, oily sweat. "My Queen," Sila whispered, kneeling so low her forehead touched the frozen dirt. "My son... he’s crying. Not because he’s hurt, but because he says he can't 'Hear the Moon' anymore. He says all he hears is your Clock."

The drive over to the apartment was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Unasked questions hung in the air like a thick fog. Beads of sweat prickled on the back of the drivers neck as he too was smothered by the tension in the car. The seconds felt like minutes as the road seemed to stretch longer and longer before her eyes. Letting her eyes close, Thea suppressed a sigh as she leant her head against the window, she ignored the drumming of her head against the window as they drove over the bumpy terrain. Bellamy’s words playing on repeat in her head, ‘like our souls recognise each other’.