The Crow Road Book Novels & Stories

About getting into my car and driving too fast with too many things crashing through my head. About the accident. About waking up in a place that was not the road. A dead world with a bruised sky and cracked earth and air that tasted like something burnt. About crows that talked. One named Bob. A female one that pitied me. Both of them dissolving into shadow that slammed into my chest.

Her life, he said quietly, was worth more than any message. They left in four cars, five men to each vehicle. Elena rode with Damien and Marco, her pulse racing as the city blurred past the windows. She focused on keeping her breathing steady, even as her heart slammed against her ribs. The warehouse sat in a mostly abandoned industrial district, its silhouette looming in the darkness. At Marco’s order, the streetlights were cut before they reached it, plunging the area into shadow.

And somewhere far ahead— deep within the darkness— something answered. A light. Tiny. Distant. Faint. But unmistakably real. The entire crew froze. The light flickered once. Then again. Not Mira's lantern. Not the Wayfinder. Something else. Something farther down the forgotten road. The darkness held its breath. The travelers stood together at the bow. Watching. Waiting. Hoping. And for the first time in centuries— the road to Lumora answered back. End of Book One ✨ To Be Continued in Book Two: The City Beyond the Broken Road

I sneered. "Oh, really?" A woman's voice cut in from behind me, edged with anger. The crowd parted immediately, heads bowing as they greeted her. "Ms. Neel!"

I only had a year to find my answers, no distractions was a good way to start. "Venus, honey, are you ready?" My mom called me from the kitchen, as I opened my bedroom door. "Yes, mom be right there." I called back. Walking towards the kitchen, I was singing Famous Last Words out loud. "I am not afraid to keep on living, I am not afraid to walk this world alone, honey if you stay I'll be forgiven, Nothing you can say can stop me going home. Can you see my eyes are shining bright? Cause I'm out here on the other side of a jet black hotel mirror and I'm so weak..."

When I went to take the shake, he turned to me and pointed at the parking lot. “I wonder whose car that is?” he remarked and turned back to the window. I followed his gaze and nearly dropped the chocolate milk all over the table. My car was covered in crows. Crows sat on the roof and hood, some even perched on the wing mirrors. There had to be at least fifty of them. “Is that a flock of crows?” The kid’s mother asked. The little kid shook his head. “It’s not a flock when it’s crows, mama. It’s a murder.” The kid turned to me. “It’s a murder of crows.”

The first thing we do is drop Cas off at the forest so he can run around with the other Howlers. Then Sebastian and I start making our way to the Coven’s mansion, where my family’s apartment is. Our mansion is unique. It’s vast and constantly expanding. It’s also odd with staircases that lead to nowhere, windows that never see light, strange paintings, and doors that open to nothing. Shadows swirl around the walls. The mansion is designed this way to confuse spirits that may make their way to the coven’s realm. It doesn’t happen often, but a few have snuck through before. We have reapers to handle those spirits.

Lukas The library in the palace was a beautiful room, although clearly neglected. There was one lonely werewolf manning the extensive collection of books, and dust covered nearly every surface. The rows of shelves extended back as far as I could see, and up three levels as well. So many books, left to time and inattention. The werewolf paid us no mind when we entered. He didn’t even look up from his newspaper when we walked in, and Dave and I waited to be acknowledged, but after a moment, we realized that would not happen, so we just went on our way.

The council chamber was cavernous, its stone walls adorned with banners bearing the crest of Arindale—a golden falcon soaring against a crimson backdrop. Emilia’s footsteps echoed as she entered, the heavy wooden doors closing behind her. The chamber was already alive with voices, nobles and advisors engaged in animated conversation.

The silence is colder than the grave. --- **The Crow’s Whisper** That night, the scar burns like a brand. I follow the crow’s shadow through the skeletal forest, my breath fogging in the air. It leads me to the Tomb of Whispers, its entrance cracked open like a wound. *“You feel it, don’t you?”* the Shadow’s voice slithers through my mind. *“The prison weakens.”* The crow perches on the tomb’s threshold, its eye glowing brighter. “What do you want?” I demand.