The Wraith Cast Novels & Stories

The pack gasped, their weapons raised, but fear flickered in their eyes, even the Ironclaw allies, who’d seen my power break their curse. ‎ ‎“What are they?” I whispered, my voice trembling but steady, my wolf ready, the warmth blazing hot. ‎ ‎Rex’s growl was fierce, his body tensing. “Wraiths,” he said, his voice low, grim. “The curse’s final defenders. Your blood woke them, Talia. They’re here for you.” ‎

“The Wraith... it's in pieces!” Thorne's golden eyes sparkled. "The pieces..." Everything... It is falling apart because of how strong she is!"" I looked into Draven's dark blue eyes. The Wraith will try one last trick, even though you are bound to the moon. It will attack you physically and test your heart, soul, and everything you hold dear.

“The one hidden behind the Benedetti sigil. It says a willing heir must choose death for the line to break.” I stepped forward. “You’re not dying for anyone.” “But what if I’m the lock and the price?” “No,” I growled. “I’ve bled too much. Burned too long. No one else dies for my war.” Her folded her arms. “It’s not just about you anymore.” She stared hard at me. ~~~~~~~~~~ By dawn, the strike team had arrived—silent shadows from a past most men had forgotten. They were the invisible Wraiths. Once called ghosts. Now summoned back to erase history’s mistake.

A Wraith is a predator that has already lost everything, which means it has no fear of the dark. I stood in the center of the melting Vault, my heart hammering a frantic, uneven rhythm against my ribs. The scent of Elena’s "Anti-Matter" blade was a sharp, metallic sting in the air, but the smell coming from Dante—the raw, ozone-heavy scent of the Void-Titan—was overwhelming. The "Shadow-Heir" in his arms let out another cry, a sound that vibrated through the floorboards and made the obsidian walls bleed liquid shadow. Dante didn't pull away from the dagger Elena had buried in his chest. Instead, he leaned into it. He stepped forward, forcing the hilt against his own ribs, his eyes locked on

“They’re approaching.” The wraiths moved in a strange, jerking rhythm, their paws barely grazing the ground. They weren’t alive, but they weren’t entirely dead either. Pale mist seeped from their mouths as they encircled the camp. Luna stepped forward. The Mark on her wrist pulsed again — not painfully this time, but as if it recognized them. As if it desired to assist them. She swallowed hard. “They’re trapped souls… forced into these forms by the corrupted moonlight.”

Malachi, pointing at the dark figure, countered, "But first, we need to understand who or what that is. It's unlike any being we've encountered." The figure, sensing their confusion, chuckled, its voice deep and echoing, "I am the Nexus Wraith, the embodiment of discarded and forgotten realms. You've given me an opening, and I intend to claim it." Elysia, ever the warrior, stepped forward, challenging, "We won't let you destabilize the balance we've fought so hard to maintain." The Wraith, amused, retorted, "Balance? By restoring one, you've beckoned many. Your intentions, noble as they may be, have consequences."

The mere idea that the eerie presence tailing me wasn't just some figment of imagination, but a malevolent entity—a wraith—sent chills down my spine. "Wraiths aren't just any shadows, they're much more than that." His voice, grave and weighted with concern, narrated the sinister nature of this creature. "They are born from the anguish of tortured souls, driven by an insatiable thirst for retribution against those who had wronged it. Since souls, for a better lack for words, can't hold memories…wraiths wait around dark alleys and areas shrouded by darkness, to feed upon the souls of those they deem as threats. In this case, the wraiths have decided to target you for some reason."

“So, she is part demon? One of Dante’s sprogs that slipped through the net?” “No,” Lucas leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as a weary sigh escaped him. “Atlas and Amos don’t have wolf spirits remember? Chloe does; Hecate.” “Hecate? What kind of name is that?” “It’s the name of a Greek goddess. As far as we can tell, only the Wolfe line has a wolven spirit with a Greek name. Even Sierra and Alvaro don’t have them. So, how come she has one?” Lucas raised an eyebrow, hazel eyes darkening as the questions piled up. “I think we need to make a call.”

But the end of what was unclear. I searched the abyss and found nothing. Fear overwhelmed me; images started to appear one by one. Cleo, Prue, work, mum, and the last was Damian. Each disappeared as if they were smoke. Whisps filled the air and dissipated one at a time until there was only one left. The whisp from Damian floated across to me. It morphed into a guiding light as the ticking became faster. Something deep inside felt the pull; I needed to follow it. Step by step, one foot in front of another, I followed his light. It led me to a door in the middle of the abyss. The door stood solid in front of me as the whisp passed through it and disappeared.

Rage surges, my wolf clawing for release, but Talis’s hand steadies me, the bond anchoring. “He used them,” I growl, my voice breaking. “To make that thing.” Talis’s eyes meet mine, fierce. “Then we end it. For them, for my parents, for us.” Before I can respond, the first wraith bursts from the trees, slamming into the truck’s side, metal screeching as we swerve. I fight the wheel, tires skidding, but the second wraith emerges ahead, its eyes crimson flames, blocking the road. “Hold on!” I shout, slamming the brakes, the truck fishtailing. Luka’s vehicle swerves behind, headlights flashing.