Sorrow Rhyme Novels & Stories

“I feel everything, you hurt, I hurt worse, who wants to fight me.” Caiden steps forward. “I’ll—” “No,” I say. “He’s a child.” “I’m Father’s grief,” Sorrow says. “I was born when Mother cried, I end when everyone else does.” He touches the ground. Every wolf in the circle gasps. Their grief, all of it, mothers, mates, lost years, hits at once. Draven drops to one knee. Mercy screams. I fall, memories of the witch pit, of my brother dying, of selling myself at 18.

I continued, my voice growing stronger even as tears mixed with rainwater on my cheeks. Only the wind answers, and when it does, it sounds like weeping, like the collective sorrow of every soul who has ever watched someone they loved walk down a path of no return. The sound cuts through me more surely than any blade, because it carries not accusation but the kind of grief that comes from witnessing beauty destroy itself.

"Just… sad. Fishermen talk about a 'weeping fog' that rolls in some nights. They say if you listen closely, you can hear a woman singing in it. A lullaby. But it sounds… broken. It makes the fish scarce and gives everyone bad dreams. They call her the 'Siren of the Sorrows.' Most people just avoid that part of the coast now." The sad echo in Liora’s mind suddenly had a source. A name. A story. "The Siren of the Sorrows," she repeated softly. That night, the dream came. It was not Corin, and it was not the Remnant. It was the woman. She stood on a misty shore, her form made of sea foam and twilight. She was beautiful, but her face was etched with a grief so profound it was a physical weight.

Her eyes, a vibrant shade of blue, glimmered with unshed tears. The weight of her loss pressed upon her, threatening to crush her spirit. But she held herself there, in that solemn place, refusing to yield to despair. The wind rustled through the trees, whispering secrets known only to the day. Lyra closed her eyes, allowing the cool breeze to brush against her fur, the touch like a gentle caress against her sorrow-stricken heart.

She fought to steady her voice, to speak the name that now echoed in an empty space. "Kara... my sister... she's really gone?" Sobs wracked her body as the weight of the loss settled upon her like an insurmountable burden. From the depths of her soul, a keening cry echoed through the walls, a cry that encompassed all the love, pain, and memories she held for her sister. Ryder's voice was laden with his own anguish, his words tinged with sorrow. "I wish it wasn't true, Luna. I wish I could change it, but I can't. I loved her too... more than words can express."

"Oh... Oh... Oh..." The sound was filled with sorrow and agony.

Tony whispered into the crown of her head. Rose’s voice cracked and trembled with each word, her sobs echoing like waves crashing against rocks. The sound of her anguish filled the room, drowning out any other noise and leaving a heavy feeling of sorrow in its wake. Uncle Tony continued his soothing murmurs, offering comfort in the midst of pain.

I howled in deep sorrow, hoping everything would soon become a dream. It wasn't just howling, it was a mourning howl, the type no Alpha ever made. A sound of mourning for a loved one, a death song. I paced restlessly at the river's brink, looking for a sign that she was still there or had been rescued, but there was none. Then my wolf spoke again, in sorrow. “This isn't how she should end, never, it can never be." I froze on hearing that. Does it mean she's truly gone?

Certain storms don’t make a wave. Certain winds don't crash abroad. The night dies, and morning brings joy. But wounds delve deep remains, when the sun lifts. The rising lights never heal deep cuts of a broken night. Sorrows never die, in a smiling sun. My soul crashes, when our eyes meet. My sight fades, watching guilt parade his stare. His frown grows deep, his brows shrinking, while his lips shift. I hear silence waving through my head. Stinging rings of steel, singing through my ears, like rifting sounds.

A relentless echo hammered in my mind, driving home the harsh truth of our situation: ‘Oh my god, my friend has died alone, ensnared in profound pain. I felt myself spiral away from my physical form, instinctively reaching for the flickering ember of hope, a faint light struggling to pierce the heavy fog of my sorrow. My heart thudded painfully, and I found myself whispering his name as if it were a broken mantra, each repetition dripping with despair. “Dae...seung.”