Surviving The Storm Novels & Stories

My heart sank. So that's what all those years meant—nothing. I freed a hand, pulled out my phone, and shot off a message. All four phones buzzed at once—same unknown number. They glanced down. Then swore and deleted it. "What the hell. So much spam." I smirked. The car rolled on. The sky darkened. The wind picked up. They got colder. In the back, Vincent and Donelia shivered, sneezing nonstop. I was freezing too.

The storm had consumed me. And I wasn’t sure how long I could survive it.

She’s holding herself together because that’s what she does. “Thank you,” I say. “Don’t thank me,” she replies. “Push.” Garrett’s voice changes at seven forty. That shift professionals get when things are close. More focused and more direct. Hannah moves where he tells her, he keeps holding my hand. Garrett talks me through what’s happening and what I need to do, and I do it. I do it because there’s no other choice. Because Storm is coming whether the world is ready or not. Because I’ve been waiting and holding on and keeping myself together for months, and this is where it ends. Not in fear, not in a safe house bedroom with the curtains drawn.

“Work saves life.” Even while searching for last little food in wind‑shaken forest, we learned: hardest times teach deepest lessons. When storm finally broke late afternoon, rain poured like rivers, wind roared, trees groaned and crashed. Thunder shook bones; lightning flashed blindingly. Yet inside shelter built together we stayed dry and safe. Selena leaned close, no longer proud but trusting. Lea watched fire carefully. “Storm wakes sleeping memory,” Kael murmured beside me. “Stone‑Warden draws even closer,” Alexus added serious.

Then, she added, "We're all in this together. A downpour's coming, so we should find some supplies." She crouched before me and held my left hand. Her face was a mask of understanding. "It's all my fault. I'll help you up." I slapped her hand away in disgust. She let out a gasp and fell backward. Everyone huddled around her and shot me with dark glares. I stood up and put on a sneer. Yes, a downpour was coming. In my previous life, these asshats had only survived those two days by the skin of their teeth. I busted my ass setting up traps in the sea for a catch. The waves roared and crashed like a neverending tide. One time, they nearly swept me into the sea.

Dante held me as if I might vanish, but I no longer had the strength to push him away. Professor Shaw came to my side. “Aria, can you hear me?” I looked at her through the blur. “My baby…” Her expression changed, but her voice stayed steady. “We’re taking you to the institute medical center now.” As they lifted me onto the stretcher, Dante tried to follow. Professor Shaw stopped him with one look. “You had your chance to protect her.” The last thing I saw before darkness took me was Dante standing in the hall, covered in my blood, while the wedding ring box lay open at his feet.

Just watchful. The mountain air was damp and sharp, smelling of pine sap and ash. Somewhere nearby, water trickled over stone. A breeze shifted the tarp, rattling the branches overhead. I pulled my knees to my chest and stared at the thin seam of morning light pushing through the trees. My heart thudded with the aftershock of adrenaline, long spent but not forgotten. “We left her,” I whispered, my voice dry. Zerina stirred. “We survived,” she replied. Not cold, but steady. “That was all we could do.”

Later that night, I received a text from an unknown number. “You can’t protect him forever. Everyone has a breaking point. Even Noah.” I stared at the words until the screen dimmed. Then I typed a single response. “Try me.” But even as I hit send, I felt the shift. Something was coming. A storm. And this time, I wouldn’t just survive it. I’d burn the wreckage behind me so cleanly that no one would dare follow.

One possibility after another flashed through his mind, but there was no turning back. He wandered through the unfamiliar streets of a foreign city. Thunder split the sky, and heavy rain began to fall. People on the street ran for shelter and hurried home to escape the storm, but Marcus had nowhere to go. He walked in the rain and repeated Yara’s name under his breath. Before long, he was completely soaked. His phone suddenly rang. He picked it up with a flicker of hope. It was a message from Yelena. [Marcus, come back.]

A deafening crash erupted as a section of the floor-to-ceiling window shattered into smithereens. The fierce hurricane tore inside and swept the furniture off the floor. All of a sudden, I thought of the number of the rescue team and dialed it. The line didn't take long to connect. "Weren't there supposed to be more staff on duty today? Where's everyone? "What? Captain Keane took all of them with him?" Hearing the voice on the other end sank my heart. Was my baby doomed today, with zero chance of survival?