Novel & Cerita The Edge Of Sleep

The door swung open. Julian Langford stood in the doorway with red marks on his neck. "Back to see your wife again?" The smirk on his face was unbearable. Rage shot through me. I punched him in the face. The next moment, Wendy Sinclair rushed out of the bedroom. "Zane Lewis, why are you making a scene in the middle of the night?" "And you think it's fine to spend the night in another man's bed?" I scoffed. The first time she ended up in Julian's bed was an accident. But the second time? She was wearing his shirt, and there were still faint marks lingering on her neck.

Memory is not always a gift. Sometimes it behaves like a wound. It opens at random. Bleeds without warning. And refuses to close. NIGHT__ Eli woke up before dawn. Not because he wanted to. Because something pulled him awake. A sharp sensation behind his eyes. Like pressure building inside his skull. He sat up quickly, breathing uneven. “…Again…” This was the third time. Fragments. Pieces. Not dreams. Not fully. Something in between. He pressed his fingers to his temple.

he cut in, his voice rough, “I’m tired of studying.” He didn’t sit back down. Instead, he closed the last bit of distance between us in one slow step, his body heat hitting me like a wave. My back bumped lightly against the edge of the desk. There was nowhere to go. “Ethan…” I started, but it came out more like a warning than a protest. He didn’t say anything right away. He lifted one hand, slow enough that I could’ve stopped him if I really wanted to. His fingertips brushed the bare skin of my collarbone—right over the spot he’d marked last night—and I sucked in a sharp breath.

Why did she forget that Alexander chose to sleep beside her last night? It probably slipped her mind because she was focused on being late for work. Nicole stopped moving for a moment to look at the handsome CEO who was fast asleep beside her. His forehead was slightly furrowed, but you couldn’t deny the perfect features of his face. Thick eyebrows, rosy lips, and a jawline that looked like it was carved by a very skilled sculptor. Unconsciously, Nicole raised her hands to touch the CEO’s rose-like lips, her CEO’s, only to stop at the last moment for fear of waking him up and disturbing his sleep.

Dorian Grimaldi. As I pushed open the door to my dimly lit room, the familiar sight of Eden lying peacefully on the bed greeted me. The soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminated the room, casting a warm and comforting aura. Her red hair was splayed across the pillow in loose tendrils, framing her delicate features like a halo. The gentle rise and fall of her chest indicated she was deep in sleep, breathing in rhythmic patterns.

As the morning sun brightens the room, Charlotte opens her eyes. Unlike her regular mornings, today she is a little surprised. Her leg is on his belly, her head on his shoulder; she is embracing him like a koala bear. Stunned by her posture, she looks at Edward, who is sleeping. His face is so close to hers that she can feel his soft breath hitting her head. The light on his face makes him even more charming, like a dream guy in every girl's dreams.

At the edge of the large rectangle, an iron pole is set and a blinking light is on it showing a particular direction on the smaller iron plates. Under this ground, a man in his thirties is sleeping on a wooden bed with a bedsheet laying on it, he is breathing silently but a minute later, his breathing accelerates as if he is unable to catch his breath. His bare muscled chest keeps rising and he shakes his long neck hurriedly, his brows are in knots and his mouth is open wide. His body is shaking vigorously, his limps are clenched in a fist and his knees keep rising and down one after the other.

She hoped he was having pleasant dreams despite the strange way he slept. She lay back on her pillow and stared up at the ceiling. Although tired, she fought sleep. She feared submitting to the desire to sleep would drag her back to the realm of terror. As she lay in silence, she noticed a glow emanating from downstairs, and then she heard the sound of a page being turned. Is someone awake? she asked herself as she slid from the bed and tip-toed down the staircase. At the base of the steps, she came to a stop, seeing that Duskin sat on his bed with several books laying around him. His gaze transferred from the book by his knee and the notebook as he wrote in the notebook.

I clear my throat and distract myself by asking, “What is Edge?” “Edge is an herbal concoction laced with copper. It was created about two decades ago by a werewolf who believed ingesting small doses of copper mixed with healing herbs would gradually help werecreatures gain immunity to its lethal effects. It has since become a recreational drink served at most supernatural bars and nightclubs.” “Does it work?” “I wouldn’t know, because I’m not stupid enough to ingest anything that might get me sick or possibly kill me.” Touché. Considering most werecreatures couldn’t touch copper without it searing the skin off our fingers, I will accept Phantom’s viewpoint and refrain from ever taking Edge

The shrill sound of the alarm pierced through the steely silence of the room. That woke her from her dreamless sleep. Hitting the snooze button, Clarissa crawled away from her bed. Sunlight streamed into the room through the window. Apart from the occasional sound of vehicles driving by, the neighborhood was relatively quiet.