Novel & Cerita Whispers Series

But what came out wasn’t words but rather whispers in dozens of voices speaking at once in languages I couldn't identify. The sounds scraped against my ears, making my teeth ache and my wolf snarl inside my chest. "What is it saying?" Liam demanded. The whispers continued, increasing in a volume that sounded like chalk scraping against an old board. “I can’t hear a word,” Cade groaned, and I noticed some of the soldiers slapping their hands over their ears and my patience snapped. I lunged forward, ignoring Liam's warning shout, and grabbed the wraith by what passed for its throat, pulling it close until that void of a face was inches from mine.

Loud laughs and hoots of encouragement rose from the crowd watching, as they found my humiliation very entertaining. She lowered her head close to mine and whispered. “I wish you would cease to exist.”

My heart hammered so hard it felt like it shook the ground. “Zach,” Alana whispered, voice small for the first time. “Is it him?” I didn’t take my eyes off the darkness. But my voice dropped into a place deeper, colder, and more lethal than anything I’d felt in years. “Yes,” I whispered. “Stay behind me.” The footsteps grew louder— one step then another then another— slow, certain, taunting. Not rushing. Not hiding. Approaching. Alana’s fingers curled around the back of my jacket.

The torches flickered wildly. And a whisper slid through the room like someone breathing in my ear. Not human. Not wolf. Something older. Something dark. Clara grabbed her dagger. Ben raised his spear. Jake’s shoulders tensed visibly. I stood slowly, one hand on my belly, the other on Lucas’s chest. “Who is here?” I said quietly into the air. The whisper grew louder. Words formed, chilling the back of my neck. Soon. Clara jerked. “What was that?”

The air was thick, the kind of heavy stillness that pressed on my chest, making it hard to breathe. In the distance, I heard faint whispers—soft at first, like murmurs carried on the wind. But something about them felt... wrong. They grew louder, overlapping, until they became a chaotic cacophony of voices. Each one seemed to be calling to me, vying for my attention. I spun around, trying to locate the source of the whispers. The fog shifted with every movement, obscuring my view. The voices grew sharper, more insistent. “Stephanie!”

Cassie’s nerves trembled in anticipation. His hand slid around her waist. He stepped close behind her. She felt the heat of his body through his clothes. He pressed his lips just behind her ear. "You remember me." It wasn’t a question. Cassie swallowed. "Yes." He said nothing more. He let the silence do its work. Then he guided her to the bed. What followed was not rushed. It wasn’t even loud. It was careful. Precise but dominant. He bound her wrists with silk, not tight, but enough to make her gasp. He whispered no sweet words, made no promises. He let her body speak for itself, and he listened with his hands.

He must decide whether he will continue running from the ghosts of his past. Or stand beside the man who has never stopped believing in him. Because this time, choices won't just cost him his life. It will destroy everything Tom has sworn to protect. Love will be tested, bonds will be broken. Secrets will demand blood. And the whispers... The whispers have just turned into something.......silent! THE MUTE WHISPERER is the gripping second installment of the Whisperer series—a haunting tale of love, guilt, healing, and a darkness that never truly died.

Us getting into his car. My blood turned to ice. Aiden cursed under his breath. “Who the hell…” Marcus. I didn’t need proof. I felt it in my bones. The whispers rose like smoke: “Is that the new instructor?” “She’s sleeping with Blackthorn’s cousin” “She must’ve seduced him…” “No wonder her scholarship got revoked..” “Did you see the way he holds her?” My lungs squeezed. Aiden stepped protectively in front of me again, voice sharp. “Back up.”

she cried, rushing toward her. But Sandra remained rigid, her body frozen as if trapped in an invisible grip. The whispers that once brushed softly against her ears now erupted into agonizing screams, each one slicing through her skull. Her eyes dropped to her hand. She saw the blood smeared across her skin, the crimson burning itself into her vision. The walls seemed to tilt, the world spinning in a grotesque blur. Faces twisted, voices fractured into a chorus of shouts and sobs, all bleeding into one another until everything drowned in red.

Across from us, Richard and Kira arranged their faces into pleasant masks that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “How are you enjoying the evening?” Kira asked, her fingers drumming against her wine glass. “It’s lovely,” I replied. “Such a beautiful hall.” Richard took a long drink, his jaw tight. Kira kept glancing at me like I was a bomb that might explode. “There have been certain whispers, Alpha Richard.” Damon’s voice carried just far enough to make the elders at our table pause their conversations. “About the previous Alpha’s death.” Richard’s glass hit the table harder than necessary. “Whispers are just that—noise made by those with nothing better to do.”