The Whisperer Bl Novels & Stories

He whispered against my ear. A shiver of excitement ran through me which immediately released my hold on him. “Good girl.” He whispered before kissing my neck. I drifted off to sleep before Damian returned. Small waves lapped against the sand as I stood watching them. The sound of wildlife around me filled my ears. The waves swooshed louder and became bigger. Quickly swishing passed my ankles and sent ice cold waves through me. I tried to back away but I was held in place. The sand was swallowing up my feet and holding me in place. I tried to thrash and pull my way out, but I couldn’t move. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. As soon as my eyes closed, the sand released me and the crash

He must decide whether he will continue running from the ghosts of his past. Or stand beside the man who has never stopped believing in him. Because this time, choices won't just cost him his life. It will destroy everything Tom has sworn to protect. Love will be tested, bonds will be broken. Secrets will demand blood. And the whispers... The whispers have just turned into something.......silent! THE MUTE WHISPERER is the gripping second installment of the Whisperer series—a haunting tale of love, guilt, healing, and a darkness that never truly died.

“Yes.” But her hands didn’t move. Instead, she leaned her head on his shoulder, letting silence settle between them. After a long while, she whispered, “Why me?” He didn’t have an answer. But deep down, he knew: Because you survived. And they couldn’t let that go. --- The snow began to fall again. But this time, it felt different. Not a cage. A cover. And beneath it, two souls waited. For morning. For justice. For the truth to finally rise.

he repeated slowly. Lyra stared at him, then back at the cobblestone street. “Whisperthon,” she said, testing the word. “That sounds like a password to an OnlyFans account.” “It’s named after the first Duchess of the province.” “Where the hell is Whisperthon Lane?” Lyra asked. Her arms flailed as she looked up and down the cobbled street as if G****e Maps would materialize in the air and explain the mix-up.

I stayed with Justin throughout the morning. Luckily for him the wraiths had improved. They were faster and more precise and could even doge slightly. For being soul spirits of the deceased they had improved greatly. At around midday Justin waved the wraiths off. “They are doing better.” I spoke carefully watching him dunk a bucket of water over his head. “Not good enough. They need to not hesitate. Kill faster and more cleaner.” Justin paused “If they are not ready by Summer Solstice, Eric will not let it go lightly.”

Once Wes and Willow were out of the market, they found themselves near the edge of a cliff. The wind picked up speed, and Willow wrapped her arms around her body. A man dressed in long black robes, a leather belt around his waist, and black boots with a thick maroon scarf draped around his neck and shoulders appeared to be waiting for them nearby. His hair was black, with gray patches on either side above the ears. “I am Byron, and I will be guiding you to the priest. Please follow me.”

They walked towards another door, a red one this time. This was smaller than the other but activities were still as intense. Cassie watched in awe, her mouth open like a dog in a slaughter house. In the center, a raised platform served as the focal point. Spotlights bathed it in harsh white light, illuminating a scene that made Cassie's breath catch. A muscular man, his face obscured by a wolf mask with glowing amber eyes, stood over a bound submissive. She was strapped to a St. Andrew's cross, her limbs spread wide, chains rattling softly with each tremble. Her mask was a delicate butterfly design, iridescent wings framing her flushed cheeks. The dominant cracked a bullwhip in the air, the

He must have noticed the look on my face because he whispered, “I’ll explain later. It’s complicated.” “Hmm.” I hummed, not the time. “But for now, let’s take care of our problem.” Liam dropped a smoke bomb, and a dark grin spread across my face. Perfect. Time to show them that surrounding us was the worst mistake of their miserable lives. The smoke swallowed the corridor. Shadows moved. Footsteps rushed. A punch sliced through the thick fog toward me—heavy, uncoordinated—he couldn’t see shit. Too bad for him. I twisted his arm until I heard the satisfying crack, then slashed my dagger clean across his throat. Hot blood sprayed upward, splattering across my face and vest. I cringed. Disgusti

Amidst the radiance of the laughter ringing out from behind the shadows, the gentleness of her voice when she was not taut. The hollow in her eyes. He got a glass of water and glared at the wall between them. And didn't move. There was a noise. Whispery. Muffled. A scream. He pressed his ear against the wall. A scream—a long gasp for breath. But unmistakably Sienna's. His heart skipped a beat. Not going to be swayed, he pulled on his hoodie, hauling it down over his head, and moved stealthily out into the corridor.

It wouldn’t surprise me, after what they did to you. Faye stared off into the distance. Her gut told her, Whisper was an ally. During those brief moments when their eyes locked, she wasn’t seeing her as Faye. She was seeing her as Clarissa. She felt no trepidation in her presence. Had Whisper, played a role in the lives of Mathilda and all the others? ‘Definitely not,’ Faye answered. ‘Whisper appears to be a keeper of secrets, Syb. And I plan to find out what she knows.’