War And Peace On Kindle Novels & Stories

And in that moment, I understood— Peace hadn’t been the absence of war. It had been the space where love could finally be heard.

Taking a sip of my whiskey, I felt the familiar burn as it slid down my throat, praying to whatever deity would listen that it'd numb the pounding headache beginning to overwhelm all my other senses. “Fuck me,” I mumbled under my breath as I opened the book titled, ‘History of the Great War.’ It was the usual stuff, talking about the first days of humans discovering the supernatural world was real, the attacks within our governments and armies, and the billions who had died. God, it had been a cluster fuck, a well-planned cluster fuck that none of us had seen coming. The war had been going on for a little over seventy years by the time I was born, just in time for me to participate in the la

A new message from an unknown number. "Congratulations on the wedding. The real war starts now." I showed the message to Ivan and Nikolai, their expressions hardening as they read the words. Our moment of peace was over. The real war was just beginning.

The contact was light, almost cautious, yet it sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with fear. “I would keep it,” he said. I looked at his hand, at the way his fingers hovered as though he would withdraw the moment I asked. “You cannot,” I whispered. “Your world and mine are already at war.” “Wars begin because people refuse to see one another,” he replied. “They end when someone dares to.” I searched his face for deception, for hunger, for the dark cunning the council insisted lived in his kind. I found none of it. Only a quiet gravity. Only a man who carried loss like an old scar.

She screamed, still looking up. "Ahhhhhhh!" She screamed, like never before... War has started. This is survival of the fittest, Who will survive and who won't?

I can't answer that now, I just don't know what to expect anymore. "Here," Abel announces and comes over the couch that I am sitting with a book in his hands. He hands me the book and opens it to a page. I take a moment to read what it is that he is pointing to and can immediately feel his magnetic pull on me as he sits beside me. I want to look into his eyes, try to see what he is feeling, but I know that he wants me to read this passage, so I focus on the words and read. "In times of great turmoil, when the brink of war is on the horizon. Two wolves from two packs will be born, who will one day unite the packs and bring peace. One a broken-hearted male and one a she-wolf, a slave to a syst

he said proudly. “I can tell.” “Insults before tasting?” “Self-preservation.” He poured two cups anyway. It was as bad as expected—bitter, smoky, oddly comforting. We went through reports together: harvest tallies, rebuilding schedules, letters from villages debating whose goats belonged to whom. “Peace,” Warren said, signing one, “comes with more paperwork than war.” “Fewer funerals, though.” “I’ll take the trade.” He paused, pen hovering. “Do you think we’ll ever stop waiting for the next disaster?”

"We all die, Elizabella. The gods of this world can be merciful, but when your time comes, you must accept that fact. The greatest death a man can know is while in battle, fighting for his country." "But I don't understand," she whispers to me, clutching my hands in hers. I look away from her face as she draws herself closer. She will never understand the ways of war, but never will anyone. "Why not just make peace with one another?" This statement draws my eyes back to her face. "Peace? I have never known peace. The only peace I have is when I am with you. If it's war they want, it's war they'll get." BELLA'S POV

he murmured. “Then I’ll watch again,” I said. “Better rituals deserve witnesses.” He kissed the top of my head. “You're mine, Ava,” he said again, not because he doubted, but because he likes the word when it’s answered. “Always,” I told him. We went back inside when a low breeze pressed cold fingers against our ankles. Damian took out the memoir I’d mentioned the night before—the woman with the hats and the revolutions—and he’d dog-eared a page where she said something that sounds like us: Peace is not the absence of wolves. It’s their choosing to sleep beside your heartbeat. He read it aloud, and we both sat in the quiet that follows when a sentence lands exactly where it was meant to.

He thought his money would buy my comfort, but he actually funded my education. He looked at the heavy books on the coffee table one last time. "You are preparing for a war," Kade whispered, realizing the dangerous path I just started walking. "No," I answered, picking up the heavy book on digital encryption. I held the heavy textbook against my chest and gave him a chilling, empty look. "The war already started, Kade. I am just learning how to fight back."