Solitude Invisible Chest Novels & Stories

“Your scent will give you away the moment you cross Woodcrest’s borders. Jermain will know, and you’ll be caught. And that would be the end of all our efforts. And then he will me more cautious, take more precautions to keep her out of our reach until he has carried out his plans.” The mere thought of Alpha Jermain succeeded, sent a shiver down my spine. Ivor nodded. “There is a solution for this. We must hide my scent. Mask it so Jermain nor his pack members detect me. We’ll need a witch to do that.” Alpha Gene’s face lit up with a flicker of hope. “Zela had a friend, a witch from the Night Raven Coven. She can create a potion to hide your scent and make you invisible to him.”

She pushed the attic door open, slipping inside and locking it behind her. The attic was vast, cluttered with forgotten relics of the past. Moonlight filtered through a small circular window, casting eerie shadows across the room. Sasha leaned against the door, trying to steady her breathing, when her eyes caught something glinting on the far side of the attic. She approached cautiously, weaving through the dust-covered furniture and cobweb-laden boxes. The glint came from a large, ornate chest, its brass fittings polished and pristine as if untouched by time. Sasha hesitated, her instincts warring against her curiosity, but something compelled her to lift the heavy lid.

Even from this distance, I could feel the invisible thread of his devotion pulling at me. I turned back into the house, my heart full, my body feeling languid and loved. I went to the small storage room to find a bowl for the fruit I’d gathered. That was when I saw it. Tucked away in the very back of the pantry, half-hidden under a pile of old linens, was a small, iron-bound chest. It wasn't something we had bought in the village. It was heavy, dark, and looked as if it had been forged in a different lifetime.

Shadows crept around the House of Solace like curious things, sniffing at doors, licking at the corners of curtains. She heard a creak behind her. Not the bed. Not the door. The floorboard at the base of her dresser. Where the chest lay hidden. She turned back. The latch gleamed in the moonlight, open. Not broken. Not forced. Simply...... undone. Her mouth went dry. The scent was stronger now. Not from outside. From within. She approached the chest slowly, barefoot. Each step silent, deliberate, as though she might wake something slumbering in the dark wood.

Evan had always believed that silence was both weapon and shield. Silence allowed him to stalk, to study, to gather every fragment of information before striking. But tonight, silence worked against him. Every second of quiet that stretched between Adrian’s last text message and the gaping absence of his presence was another needle shoved beneath Evan’s skin.

The speed at which he moves is so great that it makes him almost invisible, and he hides out of sight of the couple. The movement at the tent door makes Mila look and remember that Typhon is outside, but imagining him listening to her excites her even more, and she ignores it, concentrating on taking pleasure from the vampire. Typhon smiles again. His eyes look around for where the needles could be hidden, and two chests catch his attention. He lifts the lid of the first one, and there are only clothes, which, from the looks of it, would have been Albert's. The other suitcase was more difficult to get to, as it was very close to the bed and impossible to get to it without being seen.

A voice, seemingly from the darkness behind me, startled me. I glanced to the direction just in time for Elder Marcus to step into the light. Out of everyone, Christine seemed the least surprised by his appearance. "Have you been listening?" I said. "I merely just got here." His lips curled upwards and I smirked at the subtlety of the joke. "Passing the guards will not be an issue," he said. He pulled out a small container of his pocket. He whispered into it and handed it to Christine. "That ointment contains a spell. It's an invisibility cloak. Once rubbed, no one sees or even smells you."

“You'll die before you ever learn about it, barbarian!” “Elite rank, I see,” Gildeon mocked, resting the sword on his shoulder. “Your kind always talk the same way.” No response. ‘Ghulik, what’s inside?’ Gildeon mentally asked the goblin lurking behind him. The creature rushed into the room and jumped on top of the silverwood crate. “Master, the chest has a strong protective sigil. Ghulik can’t smell through it.” ‘Search the room for anything else suspicious.’ The goblin scurried off, hopping onto crates and barrels. Almost immediately, he reported, “Master, Ghulik found another chest with the same sigil over here. Ghulik can’t smell what’s inside either.”

At his back, Imuthis cheering him with a grin in his face. (I'll seriously slaughter you if something happens!) Reaching the middle of the dark cavern, the chest at the top of the table pillar is in his very front. The Chest is slightly clean, maybe the cleanest he has ever seen since he fell in that hole. Slowly stretching his right hand to the metal chest his hand slowly opens the silver chest. He tries to open it however it didn't budge. (Huh? This is weird. Hey, what are your thoughts about this?)