The House Of Long Shadows Book Novels & Stories

Which left me as the only sole shadow in the Crane House. Two, the Black family do not have any shadow descendants. That is, no one from the Black family has ever inherited shadow powers. As a matter of fact, their existence in the Order -apart from Raj's law- was because my great-grandfather Shane had to take his best friend Carl along for the ride when he fought the white light. Therefore, the only thing they did in The Order was keep records of each and every single family in the Order. They were one of six Houses in the world dedicated to just that. So technically speaking, they weren't really a House, more an honorary one.

It was quiet for a few minutes and he finally said, “Tilly and I have absolutely no secrets. People like you and me … we can’t be with just anyone. It’s either one night stands, fake short term relationships or nothing. You don’t just find a Tilly on every corner. A woman that will accept you, that if you are totally honest with her … won’t be afraid of you. I never had someone to … to help me. To direct me, and it damn near killed me. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I call it my dark shadow … it’s a part of me, but it’s a part of me I can mostly keep hidden, that I can control.

He pointed his gun at my father, and a loud bang filled the room. My father's body jerked once, before going still. I couldn't scream, neither could I cry, and I could feel the darkness enveloping me in an agonizing pain. The last words I heard... "Burn the house down." …before everything went dark

I contemplated it—reminding myself that I'm a man—but in the end, I decided to stay right where I was, trying my best to understand while feeling a little frightened as I hid, waiting for it all to be over. My family is good at fighting, but the Shadowfang are even more so. This is the main family, and I don't think they have many cars in collaboration with them in order to stand up to their enemies in such a battle. I feel guilty for living like this. I might have lost someone—I might have lost, at least, my dear sister. For all I know, once I get back, I'll see her dead body on the ground, with blood pooling around her. I hide as a small voice inside tells me that it might be even better f

As she sealed the last box, a smash of glass from downstairs. Faint, but in the dead quiet, it was deafening. Crash— Someone was in the house. Elara’s muscles went rigid. She remembered this time in her last life. A break-in. Priceless heirlooms gone. Her artwork, destroyed. Lights out. She fired off an emergency text, grabbed the pepper spray and a utility knife from the table, and went barefoot for the stairs. Two shadows were rummaging in the living room, flashlight beams cutting through the dark.

On a floating obsidian desk lay a journal, its cover bound in the scales of a Void-Warm. ​Caleb stayed near the entrance, his palm still throbbing from the blood-tithe. He didn't touch the artifacts; he was too busy watching the shadows. Because his blood was now the "key" to the house, he perceived the library not as a collection of rooms, but as a living creature. He saw "Shadows" flickering, semi-corporeal silhouettes that stood in the corners, watching them with eyes like cold stars. They were the echoes of Rowena’s past, and they looked at the Thorne brothers with a hunger that made Caleb’s hand drift toward his daggers.

Shadows began appearing along the horizon, and the whispers increased. The smell of fresh flowers but none within sight, only grass. I followed the smell to an old oak tree. The bark was tough and rough as I held my hand against the trunk. It creaked and groaned as a door appeared in front of me in the trunk. Stepping through brought me home. But it didn't feel like home. It was cold, empty, with grayness overcast through it. Breath was visible in front of me as I took deep breaths. All light and love had sucked out of it. This time I heard his voice. Damian!

Take it down now! However, he did not wait for an answer. I calmly stepped out from the shadows of the room and announced, "I did."

And Eva knew, with the certainty of fire and shadow intertwined, that the true trials, the hidden enemies, and the ultimate reckoning were only just beginning. Eva’s breathing came in sharp, uneven bursts, the lingering heat of her power still coursing through her veins. Every corner of the library seemed alive now, the shadows shifting with quiet intent, like predators sizing up prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike again. Her gaze darted to the darkened windows, the moonlight spilling pale silver across the floor, highlighting the fissures in the walls, and she felt the oppressive weight of unseen eyes pressing in from every angle. She realized then that this was no ordinary threa