Vesper Novels & Stories

Caroline, a she-wolf who has been considered a monster since she was a child, can she break the tragedy spell and find her MATE?

Selene’s violet glow illuminated the plaza, her spectral form serene, her wisdom a steady guide. Lucas leaned against a stone pillar, his grin wide, his trust an unshakable anchor. Bryan’s glow pulsed brightly, his hope a vibrant thread weaving through the air, binding the village. The weavers’ threads, Sereth, Verath, Vorath, Sylvara, Caleth, Elyra, Aethra, Null, Auris, Veridias, Omnis, Nihil, Eternis, Liora, Verith, Vynia, hummed in the nexus, their voices a soft song: “You are our eternity.” Her mother’s spark within her glowed, its final whisper: “You’ve woven forever, Jessica.” The nexus star’s light pulsed, a call to rest, their mission complete, their love the heart of all creation.

I gasped. Lunar Eclipse was more of a pack of mercenaries. No one knew the real names of the pack members, as they all had some sort of code name. The Alpha of the pack was known as Shadowstrike. Shadowstrike was considered the ultimate warrior, with skills that a normal werewolf didn’t possess. He could strike his opponents down with a single blow, but it wasn’t just because he was strong. There was a rumor that he could expel some sort of energy in his attacks that could knock someone down without ever touching them.

I replied, my lips turning down. "We must avenge their death," I added. "I will make sure to tear Lucifer apart," Camila said, her tone resolute. I nodded in agreement. "We need to get some sleep," I replied, closing my eyes and quickly drifting off. I woke up to a loud buzzing noise and opened my eyes slowly, trying to turn off the alarm. "Come on, Destiny, we don't want to be late," said Camila. I nodded, getting out of bed with her.

Sleepy. She embodies whispers. Sight. Prophecy. Twilight. Stillness. She watches. Waits. When the time is right...The Golden light fades. No one remembers Vesper’s original name. A former oracle from the Veiled Sanctum, she foresaw her own downfall and walked into it willingly—because some endings are necessary. Her gift allows her to glimpse a thousand possible outcomes in a breath, and choose the one that leads to silence. Diana calls her “The Quiet Edge of Fate.” Vesper rarely fights, but when she moves, it is the end.

Normally I’d zone out through the whole thing—mind-numbing bullshit about protocol and posture—but tonight the air was so thick with tension you could choke on it. Madam Vesper stood up front looking like someone had shoved a lemon up her ass and left it there to rot. She tapped her pointer against the lectern like she was personally offended by our existence. “A Luna is the heart of the pack,” she recited in that flat, rehearsed voice, eyes sweeping over us like we were defective merchandise. “She must be above reproach. A symbol of unshakable stability. When whispers of chaos, or gods forbid, unnatural events, start spreading, she is the one who calms the st

Not long after I left Dawson Corporation, Shane Dawson sent me an address and a photo of our wedding venue: a Spanish castle named Castillo de Sol. The picture showed the castle’s facade consisting of ivory limestone walls and a blazing golden dome, luxury carved into every line. Right in the center of the shot stood Tania Collins, her curls tumbling over her shoulders, a crimson gown hugging her figure. My fingers hovered over her radiant smile for two long seconds. The absurdity sank in like ice.

June saw people she knew—old teachers, neighbors and even her sister, Vesper. Vesper’s violet eyes were gone. They were now blue. "Vesper?" June called out. Her voice was cracking with fear. "Can you hear me?" Vesper’s head tilted to the side in a way. "We hear you Sister " Vesper said.. It was not just Vesper’s voice. Thousands of people spoke the words at the same time. The sound was a roar of whispers inside June’s head. "We are the 001. We are the cure for the mess of the world."

Waking up. And from the edge of the roof came a deep, rumbling hum. Vesper had stood up. She spread her wings in the pink light and looked down at me with her old gold eyes. Climb on, little fire, she said. Let us go home.

His dark curls were a charming mess from sleep, and his bright silver-gold eyes sparkled with early morning mischief. Following closely behind him, slithering lazily through the warm air, was Vesper. The cosmic void-dragon had grown into a sleek, eight-foot juvenile beast. Its dark violet scales glinted like dark sapphires in the morning sun, and its wide, semi-translucent wings trailed faint wisps of silver starlight as it hovered three feet above the flagstones. Vesper let out a soft, chirping yawn, opening its jaws to display rows of small, pearlescent teeth before settling its chin comfortably over Silas's small shoulder.