The Poet X Audiobook Novels & Stories

Prince Xander rubbed his eyes. The sword in his hand was tightly gripped. The voice kept calling out to him. He walked slowly looking for the origin of the voice. The sound of a night bird in the tree, just above his head, surprised him. He paused for a moment, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He took another step carefully. The sound of the dry leaves being trampled on made him hold his breath. He tried to avoid even the smallest dry branches. The light of the full moon helped him see quite well. "Prince Xander Reenan! Prince Xander Reenan!" The voice echoed through the middle of a very silent forest. Instantly, the hair on his neck got goose bumps. The voice drew closer. When he paus

Henry*** Pain. Cold. Silence. The darkness was absolute—an abyss without end, a chilling maw that consumed every shred of light, every trace of self. Cold seeped into my marrow, and silence pressed against my ears with suffocating weight. Yet, through that oppressive void, a voice—jagged with desperation and laced with dread—fought to reach me, trembling on the edge of oblivion, a lifeline fraying but unbroken. "Henry... Don’t leave me..." Xavier’s voice cracked with anguish, each word trembling with raw fear and unbearable loss, as if his very soul bled through the plea.

Not one, but two pairs of them. “Isn’t this a pretty picture?” Emily’s voice sliced through the stillness, laced with mockery. I pressed my eyes shut, and for a quick second, all I wanted was to merge with the bench I was currently sitting on, but I knew it was next to impossible. “The great Lyra, hiding among the flowers. Almost poetic, don’t you think, Xander?” “Poetic, yes.”Xander’s laugh was low and cold, it sent shivers down my spine. “Pathetic, more like.”

It was Xavier’s voice, low and intimately rough, closer and more present than he had been to me in an entire, agonizing week. “Yes, please… don’t stop. I want more of you.” The doorknob slid from my fingers, the cold brass a final betrayal. And the world, with agonizing slowness, collapsed entirely into absolute darkness.

“If something happens to me, I want you to continue what I've started. If it doesn't work out, then do what you think is best.” The sorrow in Xander's gaze stirred a profound empathy within me, prompting me to wrap my arms around his frame, my head finding solace on his shoulder. "You're destined for a long life, Xander. Don't dwell in sadness," I murmured, feeling the weight of his thoughts. Xander gently rested his head atop mine, his voice soft yet laden with emotion. "You truly are a good soul, aren't you?" "I am not," I whispered back. Xander possessed a gentle spirit, and sitting beside him, I was enveloped in a sense of peace and serenity, a rare tranquility in our tumultuous world.

she narrowed her eyes and the man carried on. "It's about a man who lost everything in life and his journey of finding himself again." "That's my book, Xander! You read that?" She is now turning crimson because of embarrassment. It happened that her first-ever published book when she was first-year college was read by him, thrice! "I actually liked that book so much." "Xander no! You're fooling me, there's no way you would-," even before she continued, Xander cut in. "It's on my shelf and it's old enough for you to tell I bought it just now. Believe me, I actually read that and even stalked you."

Xander sat alone in his dimly lit apartment after the conversation with Dr. Lawrence, his hands trembling as he wheeled himself closer to the window. The city lights twinkled below like fragments of hope scattered across the dark. For years, he had drowned himself in alcohol and anger, convincing himself that he had been betrayed by life itself. But the doctor’s words echoed in his ears like an unrelenting bell: “If they come back, do you want them to return to a wreck of a man?”

“I don’t want this…” “Shhh! Listen! Listen to those screams. Isn’t it the sweetest melody you have ever heard, Xanthea? One of those screams could be of the person who burned your books. Doesn’t that excite you? HUH! Tell me how good this makes you feel. To see them burn! To see the people who burned down your mother, your mother’s last memories! You are enjoying it, aren’t you, little toy! AHAHAHAHA!”

I growled, crouching low, "I'll rip that book out of your hands and burn it with you." "You can't even touch me, Alpha." Xander opened the Ledger. The pages began to turn on their own, a blurred storm of parchment and ink, "You see, in the new history I’m writing, you never made it to this mill. You never even left the pack house. You never even fell in love with Darius.” He slammed the book shut. Suddenly, the world around me began to blur. The sound of the saws faded into a dull hum, and the honey-coloured wood of the mill started to grey and rot before my eyes. The heat vanished, replaced by a biting, supernatural cold.

I stayed curled up in my room, heart thudding against my ribs like a warning drum. Two days passed in silence. Then, one lazy afternoon, I made my way to Xareth’s office. I knocked once before stepping in. The room smelled of ink and cold metal. My eyes flicked to the glass cabinet behind him, and there it was. The living book. Just sitting there, in a cage. “What is it?” Xareth asked, his tone clipped. “I’ve finished all the books in my room,” I said with practiced calm. “I was wondering if I could get more.”