Whispers Of You Catherine Cowles Novels & Stories

I stood in the middle of the temple ruins, panting, my snowy fur glowing brightly under the moonlight. And I was… changed. My wolf stepped back, allowing me to shift again. I collapsed to my knees, naked, cold, and trembling, but alive. Mom ran to me with a blanket. Rhett followed, dropping to his knees and gathering me into his arms. “I saw her,” I whispered. “My wolf.” “She’s beautiful,” he said softly, brushing the hair from my face. “Just like you.” Then I blacked out.

Even speaking and raising the dead had lost its luster long ago. She experimented with powerful psychedelics, along with the blood and powders of her craft. That was when the madness grabbed hold. That was when she made contact. Six months before Katrina would devastate the region, she’d heard the whispers from the bayou. A voice had called to her, pleaded with her. Tempted her. You are closer to me than any of your predecessors. Just a little further. I need your help, my child. I need your love. That was the Voice, as Cassandra had come to call it. Gentle, like a lover’s caress. Firm, like a lover’s hand. The Voice had become her constant companion.

But with each passing day, these whispers became louder, more persistent, making it harder for her to ignore them. Jane's silent love for Mike was a ticking time bomb, a storm brewing beneath the calm surface. Each laugh, each conversation, and each shared moment added to the intensity of her feelings, pushing her closer to the edge. As she stood on the brink of this emotional turmoil, Jane was about to embark on an extraordinary journey - a journey of love, of unspoken confessions, and of silent whispers of longing. Her story was just beginning. This was her story - the story of a girl who loved her best friend in silence, the story of silent whispers of love.

A time, when Clarissa knew who Whisper was. ‘I don’t remember much, of my life, as Clarissa. But I do remember our coven had a familiar. I had no idea, until I walked in here and found myself alone with you… Last night… you called to me while I slept, didn’t you? You wanted me to remember you. Don’t even bother denying it. I saw you, Whisper.' Faye sat down next her basket, crossing her legs. She reached out and gently stroked behind Whisper’s ears, who in turn, closed her eyes at the gentle touch.

"But it happened because of you." Catherine smiled slowly. "Perhaps." My jaw tightened. I could feel something moving inside my own head, faint at first, just a whisper. Then another. Then hundreds all at once. Kill. My eyes flickered. Kill. I swallowed hard. Kill. Kill. Kill. The whispers grew louder, pressing against the inside of my skull. I pressed my fingers against my temple. Catherine noticed immediately. "What is it?" I looked at her. "Nothing." The voice screamed again inside me.

"On the mountaintop." "What are you doing on the mountaintop?" "Watching the stars." "Wait for me, I'll come right now…" Suddenly, there was a loud noise on the other end of the line. It sounded like a woman was speaking. Samuel snapped something in a low voice. The woman seemed persistent, and Samuel didn't say anything for a long while. Then, Isabella heard what seemed to be the sound of a kiss. Isabella sneered. "Samuel, are you still coming?"

I was too nervous to see what was the result that I even got out from the restroom without looking at it and closing my eyes. I handed it to Belinda and let her see it. I was sweating all over because I couldn't heard any word from her when she suddenly spoke in a whisper. I was about to open my eyes to look at it when she suddenly screamed that I even covered both of my hear because of her voice. "Oh my god!" Sigaw niya.

The alleyway was suffocating in its stillness. Sophia staggered forward, her legs weak, her breaths shallow as panic surged through her veins. The dense fog of the smoke still clung to her clothes and hair, the acrid smell filling her lungs with every breath. She could barely think—barely process what had just happened. *Ethan… Where is he?* She scanned the alley desperately, but all she could see were shadows—no signs of Ethan, no sign of anyone who could help. Whoever had pulled her from the warehouse had vanished into the night as quickly as they’d appeared, leaving her alone to face the terrifying reality that Ethan had been taken.

The following day, I ventured out again, determined to reconnect with Brodie. This time, I pushed past the familiar two-mile marker. When I finally made the connection, it came too easily—almost alarmingly so. I refrained from speaking, choosing instead to simply sit in the silence and listen. But the quiet was unnerving. All I could hear was the relentless whisper of the wind, swirling around me like a ghost in a desolate landscape. It felt eerily still wherever Brodie was. I concentrated harder, pushing deeper into our connection, striving to see the world through his eyes.

“What do you mean I can’t leave?” “After the third night, you’ll be one of them. Your voice... will be the next whisper in the walls.” My mouth falls open. But no words come out. And then Ethan says something that makes my blood run cold. “The first woman who ever heard the whispers… was your mother.”