Supernatural Wraith Novels & Stories

A Wraith is a predator that has already lost everything, which means it has no fear of the dark. I stood in the center of the melting Vault, my heart hammering a frantic, uneven rhythm against my ribs. The scent of Elena’s "Anti-Matter" blade was a sharp, metallic sting in the air, but the smell coming from Dante—the raw, ozone-heavy scent of the Void-Titan—was overwhelming. The "Shadow-Heir" in his arms let out another cry, a sound that vibrated through the floorboards and made the obsidian walls bleed liquid shadow. Dante didn't pull away from the dagger Elena had buried in his chest. Instead, he leaned into it. He stepped forward, forcing the hilt against his own ribs, his eyes locked on

They looked like giant, skeletal hands made of black glass, reaching through the mist to snatch the flickering ghosts of the failed children. The blue girl screamed, her form beginning to dissolve as a Wraith’s fingers closed around her. "NO!" Leo roared. My son didn't wait for me. He didn't wait for the Sovereign. He lunged forward, his tiny projection igniting with a brilliance that blinded even my eyes. He grabbed the Wraith’s skeletal finger and pulled. A surge of the Prometheus Sequence—the blood of the human brother, the sacrifice of Julian—shot through the ghost-child. The Wraith didn't just break; it shattered. The entropic data couldn't handle the "Sequence." It was like pouring boi

The silence was shattered by a sudden, eerie screech, the air shimmering with a faint blue mist as frost-wraiths materialized around them—shadowy, humanoid forms of ice and shadow, their eyes glowing blue, their icy claws glinting in the dim light, their shrieks a chilling echo in the silence, the petrified trees casting jagged shadows around them, the trail a battlefield, the chill a test of their strength. Samantha reacted instantly, her staff flaring with silver light, the runes glowing brightly, her voice sharp, the dim light illuminating her face, the wind biting at her skin, the frost-wraiths closing in, the trail a battlefield, the chill a test of her resolve. “Wraiths! Formation, now

Everything I had tried to bury, everything the Rift had sensed and stored over the centuries, coalescing into one dark, watchful pulse. A sudden shift in the shadows drew my eyes. The Wraiths appeared, not in swarms this time but individually, tall and thin with translucent bodies that bent the light of the silver veins into fractured specters. Their eyes glowed faintly, observing, judging, waiting. “Do not falter,” Cael whispered. “They feel fear. They feed on hesitation.” I took a step forward, feeling Auren’s hand on my lower back, steadying, urging. Cael’s gaze bore into mine, molten silver, burning away the remnants of doubt. Together, we approached the pedestal.

Sashi said while continuing from writing. "Wraith? Ah, you called me once like that before. What is that anyway?" Clark ask while giving all of his attention to Sashi. "A wraith, an evil ghost. Those who died with wrong doings in life. Like that." Sashi explained. "Ahhh." They stayed like that for a while because Sashi need to finish taking some notes. Clark just observing her the whole time. "Stop staring, I can't concentrate here." Sashi said without looking at Clark.

Not like she was supporting the enemy which was actually Clara and Kieran, but they were kicking some home world butt. “And you got it” Ronnie said and she didn’t like her tone. “You’re lying”. “Not like I care or anything, but Supernaturals are dying. Just a reminder”. The seal was close enough to what she saw. She had seen it in her mind and it was close. The wings were on her back now and Ronnie had a smirk and Danny grabbed her by her wrist and she was glowing purple. “Like hell I’ll let you out of my sight”. And they made their way to the battlefield. She had arrived just in time to see spinning death going towards every soldier. The power alone radiating off of it scared her. But she d

(This chapter will be in both Orion and Delaury’s POV) Orion’s POV White wolves. The rarest form of wolves to ever exist. According to the stories told by my father about supernaturals, the white wolves are the strongest kinds of wolves to ever exist. And my mate was one. The mate I rejected and I went back for. The mate I didn’t believe earlier when she told me my dad was the murderer of her parents and the attacker of my best friend. Regrets filled my thoughts at the remembrance of these events. I’d just woken up from my drug-induced sleep when my dad rushed over to me to tell me how he’d seen Delaury kill Sebastian. I was confused.

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you in the flesh.” Lira blocked my path, her jaw clenched, shoulders rigid. “You’re not supposed to be alive,” she said. Wraith tilted his head. “Neither are you. But here we are. Like a family reunion... except one of us brought the matches.” The others behind him didn’t speak. They stood in a loose arc, some twitching, some humming softly, all of them watching me like wolves waiting for the weakest step. I could smell the decay on them. Something about their minds had snapped and been stitched back together wrong.

A chill ran through me. "Wraiths were created through forbidden Lunae rituals centuries ago. Souls fused with corrupted magic. They were destroyed long ago." The creature nodded "Excellent history lesson." My wolf growled. The Wraith's smile vanished instantly, then its gaze returned to me. "The heir belongs to us." The moment it said those words, every brother moved. Percy stepped forward. Darren moved beside him. Ken shifted slightly in front of me. the wraith smiled again. "You love her."