The Ragged Edge Of Night Novels & Stories

RAVEN The night air was thick, a heavy stillness hanging over the pack grounds like a secret waiting to be uncovered. I pulled my hood tighter, the fabric rough against my skin, and let my steps guide me toward the rogue quarters. The gravel crunched beneath my boots, each sound unnaturally loud in the silence. I’d made it to the edge of the building when a sharp beam of light sliced through the darkness and hit me square in the face. “Hold it right there.”

I need exits, contingencies, and a map of the shadows before the door locks behind me. The Eastern terrain isn't the jagged peaks of Havenfall, but it’s a graveyard of jagged granite and rusted steel. I scramble over massive boulders and slick rockfaces, my knuckles scraping against the grit. The night is a cold blade, the moon a pale, judgmental eye hanging over the canopy.

[The Mirror’s Edge] The dawn didn't break over the Palisades; it bled. A bruised, violet light seeped through the glass walls of the West Pavilion, illuminating the wreckage of the previous night’s psychological warfare. Ivy watched the dust motes dancing in the cold light, her body still heavy with the phantom weight of Dante’s possessiveness.

A few days later, news hit the pack. That night, on the top floor of Thorn Tavern, something brutal happened. Elena Vance had been torn apart by Liam— shredded, nothing left to bury. The Chief Elder fought, tried to save himself. Didn't matter. Liam ripped his throat out anyway. When Liam came back to himself— when the Rampage faded and he saw what he'd done— the blood, the pieces, the ruin— something inside him broke for good. He stumbled out of the tavern and disappeared into the wilderness.

In Nightfang, I was the girl no one wanted. In Silvercrest, I was the prize no one would let go of. Both felt like a slow death. But as the sun dipped behind the jagged peaks, a sudden, sharp pain flared in my chest. It wasn't physical. It was a psychic vibration, a jagged tear in the fabric of the world. I gasped, clutching the stones of the windowsill. Far to the south, beyond the veil of the forest, the Nightfang territory was screaming. Not with voices, but with intent.

*** Held. *** ### The Edge of Something More But beneath it— Raven felt it again. *** That subtle, quiet pull. *** Not danger. *** Not immediate. *** But inevitable. *** She glanced at Victoria. *** “Whatever happens,” she said quietly, *** “This matters.” *** Victoria nodded. *** “I know.” *** ### The Last Breath Before The light shifted. *** The air stilled. *** The worldroot pulsed once— slow. Deep. Ancient. *** And the ceremony— was about to begin.

The moon was a sickly sliver of bone hanging over the outskirts of the city, providing just enough light for Arthur to see the frost on his own breath. He stood at the edge of a gravel road, checking his watch for the tenth time. It was nearly 2:00 AM. The city lights were a faint, amber smudge on the horizon, and his own house lay miles away in a remote area where the streetlamps were more suggestion than reality. He didn't want to walk; the distance was daunting, and the silence of the countryside felt heavy. He decided to wait, clinging to the hope that a final bus might still be running.

‘I’m being abandoned. Her hands were itching as she closed her eyes and summoned her weapon. A long, double-edged sword with a black blade and silver handle. For a brief moment the clouds cleared up, and light came into the forest again. Ayla would have liked to appreciate its beauty better, but her hands moved on their own to cut the roots that kept her still. “Wait!” She followed the woman who was walking away, but the woman did not stop, and as she faded in the distance, Ayla’s surroundings became cold, frost spreading from her feet to the rest of the forest.

There is mature material involved. The sound of birds singing a joyous tune could be heard across the window, and the sun's reflection sneaked through. I brushed my fingertips across the duvet, relishing the aroma of a new day. I slowly opened my closed eyelashes, and there was a handsome young man sleeping just next to me. Arthur is a handsome young man, and just glancing at him made him appear so sexy. But, then... I quickly grabbed the blanket that was keeping me warm in order to stay alert.

Isla folded her arms across her chest. Caspius frowned. “It was, either I shift, and let out my excessive energy, or I risk an unintentional shift from back up, and rip Lily to shreds.” He twirled one of her curls around his fingers. Caspius admired her features, her peacefulness.