Novel & Cerita Solitude By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

It was what I needed, maybe this life isn't that bad. Solitude...sometimes we need it, to really feel our existence in life, in this world as it is. To feel the flow of time... I had to accept it...I'd never get back my old life...This had now become my life, my new life. Solitude was all I had. The sky has become my new friend, it is so soothing because it will be there for me forever. No matter what happens, when I turn my face you will always be there for me right there and you'd never leave. I sat down on the rock, as I stared at the sky. You ease my solitude! As I closed my eyes to listen to the sound of nature, I heard something. It sounded like footsteps. I slowly placed my hands insi

“No matter what happens…do not repeat it.” “Father…” “Do not repeat it.” He said it again and again. Then everything went dark. I jolted awake, breathing hard. The room was silent and empty but my heart felt strangely warm. At least I saw him again. An hour later, my phone buzzed with an email notification. Unknown sender. No name, no subject….just a message. I opened it. Inside was a single paragraph. No greeting, no signature…just words. “You are not alone in remembering the past….Three hearts woke up from the same death...One seeks redemption, one seeks destruction and one seeks survival....choose carefully, Alira…this time, not everyone will make the same mistake.”

Hera’s attempts to connect felt intrusive, like an invasion of a quiet life that had already been carefully constructed. Evenings were the hardest. As the long shadows stretched across the facility, an overwhelming silence descended, amplifying the hollow emptiness. The solitude seemed to press against her, heavy, suffocating. She stayed late more often than not, the solitude of the storage warehouse offering comfort she couldn’t find in her apartment, especially when James worked his night shift. The silence of the facility, the ever-present hum of the lights, and the stack of forgotten boxes mirrored her own existence—quiet, confined, and far from the chaotic lives outside. From the roof o

(Ella’s POV) The morning broke with a thin veil of mist curling between the trees, softening the edges of the world. Ella sat on the edge of her bed, her blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she watched the pale light seep through the cabin window. Her body begged her for more rest, but her mind refused to take the luxury. Sleep had become a fragile thing, easily disturbed by the heavy weight pressing on her chest each night—the mate bond’s silent pull, the murmur of whispers that never truly left her.

Mom's frown instantly relaxed. With absolute certainty, she declared, "That's right. Freya is just too obedient. She only wanted to stand up for me. Unlike that wretched girl Aubree, she's nothing but a curse. It'd be better if she were dead." Patrick watched coldly, unwilling to waste his breath. Just then, the door swung open, and a young officer walked in with a grave expression. "Patrick, the surveillance footage from the convenience store behind the motel captured the suspect." …

The lines between choice and surrender blurs and only fire remains…. By the end, she must decide; can she survive being claimed… by two of them? When she can’t choose or have just one! ELARA SOKOLOVA’S P.O.V. The library was almost empty, it was the kind of empty that makes you feel like you own it, like the world outside that’s wet, gray, and loud hadn’t bothered to check if you existed. Rain drummed against the tall windows in a steady, soothing rhythm leaving a white noise that made me almost forget I was alone.

I cannot. As the sun began to set, painting the ocean in cold shades of gray and blue, Elara walked back to her solitary room. She was a single, determined point of warmth and life against the vast, unforgiving coldness of the world. She placed her work apron aside and gently rested her hands on her growing stomach. She was ready. Ready for the hard work, ready for the solitude, and ready to be the independent mother her child would always need.

I was the happiest woman alive, I wished to relive the night over and over and over again till eternity. If we spent the night together, it only meant he saw me as his mate, and he was also in love with me, right? That was why he could not resist the temptation because he craved for my body the same way I craved for his. I looked at the bruises on my arms, it was all worth it. But my smile faded when Lucian was nowhere to be found. I looked side to side, expecting to see him on the other side, but I was well aware from the time I had awoken that I was alone.

“Please. Just… let me be.” Ethel had frozen, her hand outstretched. She saw the tremors still wracking Elise’s slender back. She wanted to argue, to force her way in and hold her through the night, but she recognized the finality in that broken request. This was a pain that had to be endured in solitude, at least for a while. Grief was a solitary confinement, even when you were surrounded by people who cared. “Okay,” Ethel had whispered, the word tasting like ash. “I’m right here if you need me.”

Julian listened without interrupting, nodding slowly, his expression softening as though the images were entering him too. When we cleared the plates and the apartment grew quiet again, I carried the memory of the walk like something small but unshakable. As I lay in bed, the sounds returned in fragments—the bicycle bell, the laughter of children, the humming of the florist. I realized then that solitude was not emptiness. It was its own form of company, one that reminded me the world would keep offering itself if I only slowed down enough to notice. And I promised myself I would.