Veil Of Night Novels & Stories

Their faces remained terrifyingly blank. “No more fire,” David said. The flames disappeared as if a giant had blown out his birthday candles. “What the—?” said Ed behind them. The shower of water abruptly shut off. Mrs. Schneider stared at David like she’d never seen him before. “You’re one of them,” she spat. “One of the witches.” “Go home,” David said. Alex noticed then there seemed to be a kind of halo all around David’s body, like he was giving off a faint bioluminescent glow.

She said and came to me, offering me a bottle of water from the corner of my room. "Thank you," I said and took the cup from her, emptying the contents of the bottle before drawing in a bout of fresh air. "You are welcome. We are more alike than you think. I think you will come to like me very much" she said and looked around the room cautiously. Suddenly the room darkened and black smoke emanated from behind her. That could only mean one thing. Vannila was a black witch using the disguise spell. She had masked her true nature and somehow, that was how she was able to get everyone to like her.

His intention seemed clear – to intimidate her once more and drive her away. “Miss Rose, I don't see any reason why you still want to know my name but okay, I will indulge you one last time. I might as well introduce myself before we part,” he stated a sense of granting her parting favor evident in his tone. “Caleb Nightshade,” he added. “Caleb Nightshade,” she echoed under her breath. “It's late,” he then sighed. Reluctantly, Rose opened the door, casting one last glance at him before stepping out of the car. After shutting the door, an abrupt impulse seized her, prompting her to circle back and tap on the driver’s side window.

Her tearful acceptance fills me with elation, but just as quickly, a shadow descends, enveloping me in darkness. I hear Valentina’s desperate cry as she reaches out for me, but I’m powerless to escape the suffocating grip of the void. It swallows me whole, tearing me away from her. I jolt awake, my heart pounding furiously against my chest. Sweat coats my brow, and my breath comes in ragged gasps. It takes me a moment to orient myself. In the dimness of my room, I sit up, running a trembling hand through my dishevelled hair as I flick on the bedside lamp. It’s the same dream, the same vivid scenes playing out before my eyes, tormenting me relentlessly every single night.

She just stood there, like she couldn’t move. Then the ground broke open, and a strong force rushed through it. I stumbled back from the force, but Seraphina stayed where she was. She stayed where she was calm and steady like she had expected this all along. Something started to rise from the crack in the ground. It was a symbol, carved into stone, glowing with a weird light. They called it the Veil. And now, it was no longer hidden.. My breath became trapped in my chest. This was no ordinary magic. The thing was older than anything I had ever come across before. Almost.

Magic hung thick, ancient and raw, like smoke that never cleared. On the third day, the trail vanished. No more markings. No more path. Only a wall of fog at the mountain's base. "We've arrived," Ava said softly. Brielle studied the fog. "This is a veiling enchantment. It doesn't just hide—it repels." "Not from me," Ava murmured. She stepped forward, the ley pendant glowing faintly. The mist parted like curtains drawn back by invisible hands. Kellan exhaled low. "Well. That's not ominous at all."

"Elara… look." I did. Across the horizon, the Veil wasn’t just pulsing now—it was tearing. Thin cracks of black light crawled down from the sky, splitting the clouds open. Through them, I saw movement—colossal, slow, and deliberate. Shapes. Too vast to be named. The kind of things the gods buried when they still feared the dark. Julian’s voice was almost a whisper. "It’s waking up." I turned to him. "What is it?" He looked at me—terrified, reverent. "The thing beneath the Veil. The first one. The reason it was sealed."

But this was no whisper. This was a scream. The vision had not been a gentle unfolding of possibility, no drifting veil of futures yet to be. It was a brutal unveiling, a tearing away of all that was safe. The Veil—shimmering, invisible, ever-present—was not merely thinning. It was tearing.

Victoria led Raven through the aisles hand in hand, fingers laced tight, the obsidian raven pendant at Raven’s throat catching flickers of light with every step. They moved in comfortable silence until Raven stopped before a shelf labeled in silver script: *Veilcraft – Intermediate Bindings*. Her sharp blue eyes scanned the spines—leather cracked with age, titles etched in languages half-forgotten. One volume called to her like a whisper against bone: *The Greater Veil: Finer Threads of Dominion*