Whispers Of The Heart Book Novels & Stories

My heart skipped a beat, my tears moist right then. I dropped to a crouch and held him, pressing my ear against his chest again. I could hear his heartbeat, thumping powerfully through his thin shirt. It was such a familiar sensation. It was Stan's heartbeat. As I closed my eyes, my tears flowed ever so quietly. We stayed like that for a while, and as I wiped my tears, I held Nathan firmly in my arms once more. "Please live a good life with Stan's heart." - Nathan walked with me to the gates of the orphanage, but I never once turned to look at him again.

Spencer, tell him I'm not here. My hands, which were still on his neck, could feel his skin suddenly burning up. I could see the veins that were running down his neck popping, while his Adam's apple bobbed vigorously. Even his heartbeat was racing. I tilted my head upward to look at him while he lowered his eyes to look at me. Deep within the recesses of his eyes, a hint of desire was swirling. "No, I've been here the whole time. "She's not here. Yup, you should ask someone else."

Susan 's POV: Startled by the vivid dream, I'm abruptly jolted awake. The dampness between my legs serves as a tangible reminder of how my body responds to these forbidden fantasies. I can't shake his face from my mind—those captivating eyes, those lips that brought both pleasures and torment to my senses. "This is sheer madness," I whisper in despair, seeking solace in reciting the Lord's prayer. Waking up repeatedly due to these haunting dreams has become exhausting, and I long for a reprieve.

She kept her tone light, but her gut was doing flips. Christina didn’t answer right away. Instead, she pulled a small object from the folds of her blanket and set it on the table with the kind of care usually reserved for live grenades. It was a book, small and battered, the kind of thing that might get lost in a flea market bargain bin—if you didn’t look too closely at the cover. Leila leaned in. The leather was cracked, the pages yellowed like they’d been left out in the sun for a century too long. Stamped into the cover was a symbol: an eye inside a triangle, surrounded by curling, intricate lines that almost seemed alive.

His face had drained of all color, turning a waxy, translucent white. When he looked at me, his eyes weren't focused. They were rolling back into his head, the pupils dilating until they swallowed the iris. ​"It’s… it’s the feedback," he gasped, the words barely escaping his throat. "The tower… the bridge… my heart wasn't meant to handle the surge. It’s failing, Clara." ​I ripped open his jacket, pressing my ear against his chest. His heart wasn't beating; it was fluttering, a frantic, irregular rhythm that sounded like a trapped bird beating its wings against a cage.

“Alania, where did you go? I can’t find you in your ward.” Joy caressed her stomach with a loving expression as she sat in the ward. She gave off a motherly air, as if she wanted the whole world to know that she was pregnant. I stood outside the door and watched her quietly while I clenched my fists. My nails tore through the skin of my palms, and the pain gradually made me regain my rationality. She wanted to test the waters, right? I would give her the chance.

"That's strange. I'm already talking so loudly. Can she still not hear me?" I was stunned. Did I gain the ability to test Ava's powers since I was reborn? I suppressed the excitement in me. I grabbed a children's book and started reading to them. "Babies, let me read to you." Right at that moment, my husband, Michael Kent, returned home. He opened the door and greeted me. "Wendy, I'm home! How do you feel today? Were the babies good?" I placed the book down and flashed him a thrilled-to-be-a-mother smile.

My heart raced as he leaned down, past my cheek to my ear and whispered, “Just remember. I don’t mind hard work. Anything worth having is worth working hard and fighting for. I also don’t like to lose so I look forward to hearing the rest of your story.” As soon as he whispered that, he planted the smallest ghost of a whisper of a kiss on my cheek as my breath hitched in my throat and I closed my eyes to savor the sensation. When I opened them again, he was walking away and I was trembling like a leaf. All plans to avoid him had vanished into thin air.

“What I feel for you is new to me Cassie. Terrifying yes, but it’s real.” The words stole her breath again. She placed her hand in his, fingers curling tight. Relief and hurt still tangled, but the hurt was quieter now. “I’m not running,” she whispered. “But I need time to believe I’m not just the newest chapter.” “You’re not.” He lifted her hand, pressed his lips to her knuckles. “You’re the whole damn book.” She let out a shaky laugh through tears. He drew her forward until their foreheads touched, breathing each other in while the lake glittered beyond the glass and the villa held them close. The coffee had cooled and tea forgotten, but the storm inside had finally cooled.