Vengeful Ghosts Novels & Stories

But when I looked at the woman, I saw only sincerity staring back at me over the rim of her teacup. “You’re serious,” I whispered. It had crossed my mind before, but it felt absurd. I’d spent so much of my life thinking ghosts weren’t real… But then again, I found out that necromancy was real recently, so who was I to judge? She nodded. “Oh, yes. This house is very haunted. It’s so old, you know?” She looked around, clutching her teacup in her gnarled hands. “Most of the spirits are good, though. But there are a few with vengeance in their souls. They’re the ones you should be careful of.”

My fist pummeled into hardened balls and my jaws tightened. Taking a moment to collect myself, I pondered on everything I had gotten so far. The Ghost apparently is someone close to me, my aunt's husband-an aunt whom I never even knew existed up until two months ago. Launching various attacks on my men and factories in Russia, he is out for revenge, and he won't stop until he gets his bloody revenge. A slow knock punctured the stillness of my room. A maid timidly walked in, bowing her head slightly.

“I think that you’re talented and driven and with a great deal of potential and it will be a waste to channel it all into hatred and vengeance.” “There is nothing left.” I say, my voice nearly lost on the wind. “I am only vengeance, only rage. That day he killed them in front of me, Alpha Reenan took every good thing out of me and left the shadows. There is no room for anything else. The ghosts of my mother and my father cry to me every night to avenge them. They will only be silenced by blood.”

“Your father made a bad investment deal with dangerous people. He left his flank wide open. I took his empire because he was weak, and I used a sledgehammer to do it, not a needle.” “If I wanted him gone, I wouldn’t waste months playing games. I would have buried him in a week.” His breath brushed my lips. The sheer dominance of his body, the solid wall of muscle caging me in, sent an unwanted shiver down my spine despite my fury. “I am a businessman, Clara. I don’t have time to play with poison.” “Look elsewhere for your ghost.” The words landed with absolute certainty. I stared up at him, my heart racing, and a horrifying realization settled over me.

"They are the spirits of the women your pack threw into the black pools during the raids, and they’ve spent the last twenty years waiting for a Rauvenhollow wolf to come back so they can pull him down into the silt and keep him there forever." "I’m not afraid of ghosts, and I’ve fought worse things than spirits in the tunnels beneath my own home," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt while the entity in my chest let out a low, mocking thrum of agreement. "You should be afraid, because they don't hunt your flesh, they hunt your guilt, and you have enough of that to sink a fleet of ships, boy," she replied, and she turned back to Ilyra with a look of pity. "If you take him there,

Marcel's eyes were full of disgust sensing the vast portion of souls devoured by Gwen's ghost's soul. Gwen didn't dare to go forward anymore, she rather showed her beautiful head, "Don't think I won't hurt you both because of your little energy!"

It had just one room and a living room, but the furniture was exquisite, and it's a spacious place. I kick off my heels and fall onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. My life has taken a turn for the strange. I hate Dante but... he's a little bit human. Not the evil villain I expected. He's just a little stuck-up. Or maybe very stuck-up. But it's not just about my revenge. The lives of so many other people are on the line—so many other girls. Rolling off the bed, I pull the bedside drawer open and pull out an old photo.

The violet light in the courtyard turned a bloody crimson. "Amara, the ghosts," Zuri warned, her hand on my shoulder. They weren't just shadows anymore. They were rage. They could hear Vanessa’s words. They could feel the history repeating itself. The "harvest" wasn't over. It was just being modernized. The ghost of the man with the missing arm let out a roar that shattered the windows of the pack house. "No," I whispered, clutching my head. The Silver Ridge warriors suddenly collapsed, their bodies hitting the stone as the ghosts began to drain their life force to fuel their anger. Mama Sira slumped against the well. Femi dropped Lumi and fell to his knees, his face turning grey.

Everyone knew that all the wolves of the Blackrock pack had type-AB blood, making it impossible for a pup with type-O blood to exist in the pack. Faith stopped crying and exclaimed, "There must be a mistake. Please let me explain, Felix!" "You wretch! How dare you toy with me?" Felix transformed into a wolf and aimed a powerful kick squarely at Faith's chest. I nearly couldn't stop myself from smiling as I looked at Faith's pathetic state. After all, I hated her as much as I hated Felix. I had already planned to make Felix pay for betraying me and for causing Ryan's death. It only made sense that I would also take revenge on Faith since she had been responsible for exiling me from the pack.

The words felt right. Mr Vance sighed, a world of weariness in the sound. "The people who attacked are ghosts. A new power, ambitious and ruthless. They seek to tear down what Damien has built. And they have made it clear that the most effective way to do that is to target what he values most." His eyes held mine, and the unspoken words hung between us: You and Leo. I looked back out the window at the breaking dawn. The fear was still there, a cold knot in my stomach. But it was joined by something else—a fierce, protective fire.