Until Dawn Novels & Stories

Faris I woke up to sun shining on my face. The morning brightness waking me up. I got up and sat on the bed, eyes still closed because of over drinking last night. I felt hung over and my head was aching. I roamed my hand on the night stand to get my mobile, it has always been my habit to check my mail early morning from work and start then start out my day with working out. I couldn't find find my mobile or my nightstand.

Wednesday I woke up all sweaty and warm with my hair almost strangling me. I reached for my phone to check my messages and the time; it was noon already. I’m not a sloth or anything; don’t get me wrong. I usually wake up early for school, but today was different because I’m suspended for talking back to a teacher. I DID wake up early today; it’s just that I have nothing to do but sulk and ended up falling asleep.

The silver sunrise continued spreading across the horizon. Its light touched every corner of the new dream. Every star. Every world. Every possibility. The first dawn had arrived. And somehow, everyone knew. This was the day. The day they had been dreading. The day they had been preparing for. The day the Dreamer would finally say goodbye. No one spoke about it. No one needed to. The truth lingered in every glance. Every silence. Every smile that lasted a little longer than usual.

Even. The grey of early morning was in the window. Not quite light, the sky doing that particular thing it did when night had finished and wasn't admitting it yet. The security light had stopped its arc sometime in the last hour. Real dawn coming in to replace it, flat and colourless, making no promises. Thirty-nine hours. I didn't move.

Morning Light and New Silk Raven woke slowly, the tower room bathed in the soft scarlet haze of dawn filtering through heavy curtains. The violet orbs had dimmed to near-invisibility during the night, leaving only the faint glow of the blue-flame hearth. She lay still for a moment—listening with her body to the quiet rhythm of Victoria’s stillness beside her—then slipped from beneath the crimson sheets.

Rain pelted down in sheets, blinding me as it streamed over my face. Damn it. Was I going to freeze to death out here before Angelo arrived? I lay sprawled in the mud, gasping for air. I fumbled in my pocket until my fingers closed around the phone. The screen lit up, showing it was midnight. Headlights cut through the curtain of rain. A black armored car stopped in front of me. The door opened, and a pair of polished leather shoes stepped into the waterlogged earth. A tall figure slowly stepped toward me beneath the shelter of a black umbrella. I could only make out his jawline and a pair of tightly pressed lips.

They shoved her out the door. Liz woke instantly. Her eyes scanning the dark room. She could hear Elena's soft snores next to her. Liz leaned up on one arm, glancing in the darkness beside Elena for any signs of Kris. Her heart sank as she saw the empty spot on the bed. Elena shifted slightly in her sleep, murmuring something intelligible. Liz settled back down, wrapping one arm around her as she attempted sleep once again pushing the bizarre dream out of her mind. ***

The cloaked ones wanted me to break it. Every choice pulled in a different direction, and none of them cared if I tore in the middle. Asher came in, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re not going to sleep, are you?” “Not until I know what the fourth looks like.” “And if it’s already here?” My hands curled on the bench. “Then we stop talking about it.” --- Dawn — the first sign The alarm came with the first light — three sharp horn blasts from the eastern watch.

Decision & March Dax Dawn broke over the camp like a blade splitting the sky, its pale light cutting through the mist that clung to the eastern pass. The air buzzed with urgency, Kaden’s message, a single line of ink and threat, still burning in my mind: Come if you dare. The camp stirred around me, men shouting orders, horses snorting, the clatter of gear drowning out the morning’s quiet.

Adrian He woke before the sun breached the horizon. The brownstone was enveloped in a stillness that felt almost sacred. Outside, the city seemed to hang in that fleeting, fragile moment between night and day—a time when the world itself hesitated to breathe. Shadows stretched across the ceiling, and the silence felt heavy, like the calm that follows a storm after it has finally burned itself out.