Veil Of Night Novels & Stories

I open my eyes and take the card out of the blinding glow, and as my brain registers the card it looks blank, but I do as tradition states, spin around and hold it in the air for all to see. The gasps and the yelling starts, and I don’t understand why, so I bring the card down to my eye level and watch it. The card is black with what looks like six white silhouettes on it. There are colors beginning to swirl within each of the white silhouettes. Glancing up I see six figures walking toward me, but I can’t make out who they are. “Mistress to the Veil! The whore and her men must be sacrificed! You know the law! Kill the betrayers!”

“I can hold it open for you… but only for a moment.” Saraphina stepped closer. “You’ll burn yourself out if you try.” Astra smiled faintly. “Maybe that’s what I was born for.” Before Saraphina could protest, Astra pressed her hands to the runes. Light burst outward, cascading through the hall in blinding waves. The heavy doors shuddered, then split open with a groan that sounded almost alive. Inside, the chamber pulsed like the heart of the world. The Veil shimmered at its center—a vast, translucent barrier of liquid light, its surface crawling with dark veins. And behind it, coiled in shadow and smoke, was the Sleepless One.

The room seemed to shrink. This wasn’t just about Noah. This wasn’t even about the kiss-that-almost-was. It was what she’d unleashed in the moment she snapped. Hiraya paced once, then turned back, eyes wide and shimmering with a clairvoyance she didn’t want. “They felt you,” she said. “All of them. Everything that waits on the other side of the veil for a Sombra to slip.” Her voice trembled. “You didn’t send a call. But you leaked it. And now the dark knows where you are.”

“That sound—” A ripple of violet light cut through the night sky. It wasn’t lightning. It was a tear—a vertical wound splitting through the air, glowing faintly as it expanded. Lila’s breath caught. The Veil. Through the tear, she could see flashes—fragments of another place: a barren wasteland of broken glass, fire, and floating structures that defied gravity. In the distance, a figure walked toward her. Adrian. Her heart stopped. He looked the same, but his eyes glowed bright violet, and black veins spidered from his temples down to his neck.

Rian’s did the same. My own fingers pressed over my mark. Something invisible in the room snapped taut. It felt like being back in the ritual circle for a second—magic humming under my skin, leashed and restless. But this time, instead of the weight of a single relic, there were three distinct pulls. Mooncrest. Nightveil 1. Nightveil 2. The seer’s blind eyes turned slightly up, as if listening to something above us. “Loud,” she murmured. “No wonder you’ve all been sleepless.”

The light illuminated the space, full of old objects and stacked boxes. As she walked, a loose floorboard creaked beneath her feet. She bent down to see what it was and, with some effort, lifted the board. She found an old book, covered in dust, with a leather cover filled with drawings of supernatural creatures. Scarlett’s heart began to race; something about the book drew her in, as if it held secrets waiting to be discovered.

Beautiful. I opened my eyes and looked at the Veil tear hovering before us. It was worse than I expected. The wound stretched twenty feet across, edges ragged and bleeding darkness into reality. Through it, I could see... nothing. Not blackness, not emptiness, but the absence of everything. A void where existence simply stopped. "Ancestors," Astrid breathed.

He stood on the balcony in the cold wind all night. When he returned to the bedroom, he found that my mother had jumped out of the window. That night, it poured. The rain washed away the blood from my mother's corpse. Cade rushed over and held me tight, letting me punch him repeatedly. He kept saying, "It's okay, it's okay…" But he chose Summer as his new fling. As Mrs. Finley, what dignity do I have left? That night, Cade did not come home. The trending topic I arranged was buried deep by him.

He slides in first, leaving the door open. I climb in. Blue stays outside, leaning against the hood, her arms crossed. Torres doesn't waste time. He pulls a slim folder from the seat beside him and sets it on his knee. "The veil," he begins, "is the barrier between the living realm and the Underworld. It's not solid. It's more like a membrane. For centuries it's been thinning in places, letting spirits slip through. Possessions, hauntings, and power leaks. Your husband is one of the worst leaks."

A symbol she had never seen. A symbol that had never been there before. As she watched, it flickered once and vanished, leaving only a faint warmth behind. The whisper returned. “…find the Veil…” Lyra stumbled backward, her breath trembling. The crack in the sky dimmed slowly, shrinking until it became a thin line once more. Then—with a sound like shattering glass—it sealed shut. The night returned. Crickets resumed their song. The wind stirred again, as if waking from sleep. Everything looked normal.