Whispers Series Novels & Stories

I asked. "Are you joking? You know me," Ethan battered, but quickly turned serious again at the look on my face. "Of course I did. I wanted to confirm the information." "And did you?" "Well, with the rest of the warriors dead it was hard to confirm, but I did find something else of interest," he said. "When inspecting her room, I came across a bottle labeled with the name of that poison you told me about: Whisperbloom." My mind clicked as everything seemed to fall into place. If everything that Ethan found out was true it would appear that my own illness and the attacks on this pack were all connected, and all linked back to the same person.

One devastatingly sorrowful howl. It sounded like whoever made the noise was mortally wounded, heartbroken even. I hoped beyond hope that it wasn't a sign of Pip's demise and was almost relieved when I heard another second howl, the sound completely different from the first. It went on like that, another and another joining until there were so many I could no longer distinguish between them. The sound sent chills down my spine and filled my heart with sorrow. I knew what it meant. I could feel their pain in the wind. One of them was dead, and they were mourning the loss. I didn't know what to think. All I could do was pray that I could sense Pip, but there was still nothing. The nothingness

A figure who appeared in their dreams, who spoke to them in the shadows, who promised them power and purpose. "The Whisper," my mother says. "I have heard that name before." "Where?" "In the ancient texts. The Whisper was a servant of the Dark Wolf. A wolf who could enter the minds of others, plant thoughts, twist desires." "So the disciples were not acting on their own. They were controlled." "Yes. And if the Whisper is still alive, they are still controlling." We need to find the Whisper. But they are invisible, untouchable, a ghost in the shadows. We do not know who they are, what they look like, where they hide.

They were like shadows but not empty ones. They moved and twisted, Their shapes unnatural. Their presence was Oppressive and cold My smile faded. The white spirits stilled and the clearing went silent. And then— I heard whispers at first, I couldn’t make out the words. Just the tone growing louder every minute. The dark figures stepped closer. The white ones didn’t move or protect me again, they didn’t try to stop them. My chest tightened. “What’s happening…?” I whispered. No answer. The whispers grew louder and more clearer till I could make out the words And then I heard it.

Clean, verified, undeniable. Whisper Team’s past operations—sanitized, anonymized—were laid bare for anyone who knew how to read between the lines. “You’re burning the shadows,” Mira whispered. “No,” Ethan corrected. “I’m turning on the lights.” The encrypted channel flared with static. “This isn’t over,” the voice snapped. “You’ve drawn a line.” Ethan’s reply was calm, almost gentle. “You drew it when you came for the city.” The channel cut. For several long seconds, no one spoke.

The whisper campaign ran for two weeks. Then it stopped. Not because anyone silenced it. Because it ran out of ground to run on. The contacts in Ashrock and Thornwall and Whitevale had spoken. Their accounts were specific. Grounded in lived experience. The kind of testimony that a vague narrative about power consolidation could not survive contact with. Brin had written about fourteen years with her caution pointed in the wrong direction. About what it felt like to redirect it. About what Ashrock looked like before and what it was becoming.

He didn't even have the mindspace to work. I had chosen to leave and had taken great care to wipe all traces of me in the system. As a result, William couldn't find out where I had gone. … Days passed William by like they always did. It was dull, monotonous, and filled with work. He came home groggy and dazed, but then a familiar scent hit him. His heart skipped a beat, and he immediately charged into the dining room. He was so desperate that he didn't even change into his indoor shoes.

The bone hall ruins loomed in the distance, black against the white. The Whisper's army was camped in the valley below. Hundreds of wolves. More than the messenger said. "We're outnumbered," Farrah said. "We're not fighting his army. We're rescuing Kaelen." --- I reached through the bond. Dax. Can you feel Kaelen? No. The Whisper is blocking him. Then we go in blind. That's never stopped us before. We crept through the snow. The Whisper's guards were alert but not alert enough. Farrah took out the first. Lyssa the second. Dax and I slipped through the gap.

Something wasn’t right. Before I could change my mind again, I found myself standing right at the door, leaning against it. Eavesdropping. Not something I was proud of, but I needed to know. Her voice had been loud moments ago, almost like she was arguing—or panicking. But now… it was low. Almost like a whisper. Why the sudden change? I pressed my ear more firmly against the door, hoping to catch even a word. And then… I heard it. Just one word. Just one sentence.

Suzie responded as she gently changed into a new pair of shoes. “She could hear the voices of the damned. Maybe because she is part of the damned,” “What is she talking about?” I was curious to know. The look on the priestess face made it scarier to want to know. “Only few people are allowed to hear the other side, listen to what they say, the story they have to say. We call them Whisperers,” The priestess explained as she took a seat next to the fireplace. Her old raggy clothes couldn't hide the fear she felt.