The Eye Of Minds Novels & Stories

The leader, a charcoal-furred Lycan with eyes like molten gold, steps closer, scrutinizing me with a gaze so intense it could sear through metal. My heart is pounding in my chest like a desperate war drum, its rhythm racing with the speed of my spiraling thoughts. How do I get out of this? Am I destined to be a pawn in this age-old war between Lycans and Wolves? Before I can even muster a response, his eyes go blank—a milky white overtaking the gold—as if a cloud has shrouded his sight. He's in a mind-link, and it feels like forever before his eyes clear, and he returns to the present moment.

Inside its palm. there was an eye. Not human. Not animal. An eye made entirely of moving letters. Every symbol inside it continuously rearranged itself into forgotten languages. The moment the eye looked at Adrian... his heartbeat stopped. A voice entered his mind. Not through sound. Through thought. AUTHOR... RETURN WHAT WAS STOLEN. Adrian staggered. "I didn't steal anything." The voice answered immediately. YOU STOLE THE RIGHT TO CHOOSE. The dark Adrian lowered his head. "So..."

But a month here and this was her pack too. Something arctic, dark and deadly rose up inside her. It chilled her. It blocked everything out, Noah-his mind aflame with the most beautiful colors, Ian- a mind like hers, only smaller. Evan- a shadow in the back, lingering light of warm red. Silas-a small beacon. She could only see minds. And from a distance, like an angel above the skyscrapers looking down on the city, she saw the raging battle.

And now, it was waking up. A crack appeared in the sky. Not gold. Not silver. Black. Pure black. The darkness split reality open. Everyone stepped back instinctively. Because something was looking through. A single eye. Massive. Ancient. Impossible. Larger than entire worlds. The eye stared into existence. Watching. Studying. Remembering. Nova's heart stopped. Not literally. But close enough. Because the moment she saw that eye, every memory inside her reacted. Every soul. Every possibility.

I opened my eyes and saw the knife held firmly in a hand just inches from me. Following the line of his arm, I saw the seventeen-year-old Ryan appear in front of me. His abdomen was wrapped in thick bandages. His eyes were bloodshot with fury. He stared at the thirty-year-old Ryan with a gaze that shifted from anger to disbelief and, finally, to utter despair. He gripped the sharp knife tightly. Blood dripped from his hand. It fell into my eyes and blurred into a brilliant poppy flower.

You know when your mind sees something that is so utterly beautiful, so unworldly that it distinctively focuses on the pinnacle of its interest, zeroing in on that magnificent sight, having everything else blur in the background? That's what Nate's eyes did to me. The golden, caramel orbs locked on mine and it was all I could see. His eyes are red rimmed as if the surgery was still taken its toll but his face is bare and so responsive. The butterflies, the ones that have become paralyzed a few weeks back, twitch and flutter when Nate's pupils dilate and his clear, breathtaking eyes roam around my face before dropping down my body.

"In a terrible, final way." "Don't look at it, Elara!" Kazimir’s voice was a ragged bark of command. He stepped back until his tank pressed against hers, their helmets clinking in the dark. He didn't turn around, his focus entirely on the shadows creeping toward the Altar. "The eye... it's a Cognitive Hazard (an image or sound that can damage the human mind). It’s trying to rewrite your logic. Plug it in. Now!" Elara turned to the Altar. The Key-Socket was a hollow in the obsidian, pulsing with a faint, dying silver light. As she brought the Origin Key closer, the air—or what passed for air in the fluid—began to scream.

"Then you must accept the Outlaw’s Burden. You are no longer protected by the 'Plot.' Anything can happen to you now. There are no guaranteed endings." Mina looked up at the giant eye. She wasn't afraid. She reached out and touched the frozen snout of the nearest Hound. "If the ending isn't guaranteed," Mina said, her voice sounding like a Queen’s, "then we get to write it ourselves, don't we?" The Eye blinked. The red line through our names flickered. "A bold claim for a variable," the Eye replied. The "Perspective" vanished. The world slammed back into motion. But the Hounds didn't attack. They sat back on their paper haunches, their red eyes turning a curious, ink blue.

Masato, all of a sudden, laughed and whispered at Rye. "Khali manipulates this one. I think you were caught red-handed, cousin." Masato laughed. Rye frowned. "What do you mean manipulated? How did you know that?" Masato smiled. "Because Khali and I are no different. We can read minds. She's just more advanced because she can do it, mind manipulation." "So you mean it's Khali and not Brent?" asked Rye again.

[I am convinced that is the Magnus Eye. Monami whispered under her breath as she watched the disturbed eye dart its iris from one direction to another in a sporadic interval so much more that it was akin to a sentient being capable of perceiving things on its own; not even once did its line of sight stayed glued in one specific direction. Its dilated pupil was constantly moving as if yearning to search for something. Niccoli, on the other hand, responded to his pet through their mental link. ‘If the Grae were not so keen to cooperate with us, then we need to get our hands on that rare artifact by hook or by crook. After all, that is all we needed by coming down here.’